I'll Stick With Commercial Flights

When I left the introductory flight lesson, I was all in.

I'm gonna be a pilot!

Hell yeah!

I knew which airplane I would buy (Piper PA-32 Cherokee Six), what color I'd paint it, and that I wanted the interior redone in vintage tweed.

For the next week, I plotted multi-day trips across the country and daydreamed about global circumnavigation (that'll prove it to those damn flat-earthers!).

Then I decided the Piper was no good. Why settle for fixed landing gear when the Beechcraft Bonanza seats six AND has retractable gear?

Yeah, that's what I need.

Retractable is a lot cooler.

But I'm still going with a burnt orange and ivory color scheme with a caramel tweed interior.

Badass!

So I added up the costs.

Damn, flying is expensive.

The plane itself would cost between $300,000 and $400,000, depending on the year model and configuration I like.

Then I have to store it.

Maintain it.

There are annual certifications, fuel, and other operating costs.

Ultimately, it would cost me somewhere near $1M to own and operate an airplane of my own for a decade of the kind of trips I'd want to take.

And I'm OK with that.

If I commit, I can pull off the money aspect.

But then there's the time.

I'm not talking about the time it takes to get the license; that's manageable.

I'm talking about the time it takes to fly yourself.

Before that lesson, I had visions of taking an Uber to the airport, getting dropped off beside my plane, and being in the air five minutes later.

That's not how it works.

To putter around Monroe at 5,000 feet for 30 minutes took about 2 hours from start to finish.

You have to do all this pre-flight safety nonsense, wait on the tower to let you take off, land, put the airplane up - there's a lot to it.

And not one damn cocktail is served!

The more I thought about it, the more it wasn't adding up.

I went back to my North Star, which is Ten-Ten-Ten.

How does getting my pilot's license fit into that plan?

It doesn't.

I only have 3,209 days left before the ten-year clock runs out, and I have a long way to go before I reach that goal.

A pilot's license is cool.

An orange-and-creme Beechcraft Bonanza with caramel tweed interior is even cooler.

But these things are also a distraction.

A shiny object.

An interference.

So, I'm out.

I plan to visit a lot of places between now and January 2033.

But I'll get there on a commercial flight.