Now that the wedding is behind us and house projects have slowed, Brian and I have more time to focus on what matters most—airplanes. Last October we swapped the Hickman family Cessna 140 for Brian’s older brother Jeffrey’s Glasair Sportsman and have been taking advantage of it, even if our mission is just to fly to Salem for a bite to eat. The C-140 needed an annual and thankfully Jeffrey got his A&P last year so scheduling maintenance has gotten easier.
Brian and I flew the C-140 from our home in Canby, Oregon, to Frontier Airpark in Lake Stevens, Washington, where Jeffrey lives. Unfortunately Brian and I didn’t get to fly the Cessna much during the summer but were quickly reminded it’s 77 years old—our squawk list grew the farther we got from home.
Most of the notes pertained to lil ol’ me. For one, the baro knob was too tight—I couldn’t twist it without gripping the dash and really leaning into it. Jeffrey scoffed at my complaints, but a week later he called to say it was time to re-cover the wings—guess my requests are drops in the bucket compared to the larger task at hand. The good news is we’ll have his Sportsman until further notice. (Don’t all good shops provide a loaner vehicle?)
We put off having ADS-B installed in the 140 because it had never been necessary for our short, local flights, but now that Jeffrey’s a mechanic we agreed it was time to get everything up to date during this year’s annual, new transponder and all. The day before our trip to Washington, Brian and I submitted an ADS-B waiver using the ADS-B Deviation Authorization Preflight Tool (ADAPT) on the FAA’s website so we could enter Sea-Tac’s Mode C veil. We agreed it would also be wise to pick up flight following since we knew we wouldn’t show up to other aircraft.
We started receiving steady traffic alerts from Approach just south of Puyallup, Washington. Anyone who’s flown in the Seattle area knows how busy it can get. I did all of my training at Renton Airport, so avoiding other aircraft beneath the upside-down wedding cake is all too familiar to me—it’s just a little harder when you don’t have a fish finder. Once we got to Jeffrey’s we checked Garmin Pilot and found our groundspeed averaged about 88 knots. It’s safe to say we have no desire to fly the C-140 from Canby to Oshkosh.
The flight home in Jeffery’s Sportsman was much more luxe, of course, and far more familiar to me. I have over 50 hours in Alan Negrin’s Sportsman so I’m a lot more comfortable flying it than the squirrelly Cessna. I found myself taking charge during the preflight and run-up before departing Frontier. I was filled with excitement as the throttle opened, the tail lifted and we gently pressed into our seats.
As we reached altitude, I felt at peace. I’d forgotten how quiet the Sportsman is. “Maybe I don’t have to have an RV,” I told Brian, who offered no reaction. They’re so tinny in comparison.
The Sportsman’s 145-knot cruise speed and autopilot don’t suck either. I was curious how the Sportsman compares to the RV-15 prototype, which is what Brian’s been flying lately, and he said it’s “so different, yet so similar.” After all, they have the same engine and propeller and will surely be cross-shopped by prospective buyers.
Going, Going, Gone!
Meeting up with my aviation friends always fills my cup and I’m grateful I have more time to spend with them. Every year our EAA Chapter 105 throws a pie auction to raise money for the general fund. Our chapter president Rion Bourgeois plays auctioneer and my sister-in-law Kelsey Hickman presents the desserts—Vanna White style—a task she’s upheld since she was a kid. This year I was in charge of keeping track of who bought what and at what price—and in so doing noted lots of new faces at Twin Oaks Airpark, where 105 gathers.
How Rion comes up with the starting price I do not know. Nor is the bidding process super clear. If you scratch your head, that’s a bid. If you make a lewd comment, that’s a bid. Knowing this, we keep our limbs at our sides until we see a sweet treat we like. The most popular item is always Judy VanGrunsven’s pineapple upside-down cake. “Is there rum in this?” Rion asks—a playful jab he’s made since before my time. Laughter ensues, the saga continues. And still no answer on the rum content.
This year Kelsey made “FAA-approved brownies,” her Dad, Rob, made a cake with Rion’s face on it and I brought a cake made by a nice man at the supermarket. Typically, once all the desserts have been procured—with money we could’ve put toward avgas—a handful of people volunteer their pies as casualties, giving us a chance to eat, chat and marvel at the pretty epoxy-coated hangar floor. We left the auction with three desserts, one of them being the cake Rob made.
“Wait a minute, Brian bought Dad’s cake,” Kelsey said. “So we basically purchased it twice and took it for a night out on the town…”
Community really is important and while these might not be the most glamorous events, I’d encourage every pilot and aviation enthusiast to join their local EAA chapter because it gives you a chance to catch up with friends, new and old, old and young. It also gets you out of the house—something I appreciate since I work from home. It’s always fun to convene in someone else’s hangar for a little while.
