People and Places
I don’t know about you, but for me, flying in space has always been the ultimate goal.
On a cool, crisp and calm October morning, I finally took my first solo flight. It was amazing! My journey to this point started almost three years before, in early 2007. ...
At age 34, I added a flying trip to my dream list. It was a fly-in of 20 planes to Providenciales (nicknamed “Provo”) in the Turks and Caicos, an archipelago of nearly 49 islands and desert cays just 35 miles southeast of the Bahamas.
With a tough year behind us and the bright hope of a better economic year ahead, I remembered our recent “Buy Your First Plane” issue and thought about first-time LSA owners.
There exist very few things that I would wake up at 4 a.m. for. An airplane in the lens of my camera happens to be one of them.
For better or worse, I learned to fly in the days when there were still A-N ranges up and running, not many, but a few.
I can tell you that for one lap prior, the plane never ran so well.
Shortly after getting my pilot’s license in 1992, I took all of my family members up, one at a time, for an aerial tour of Jacksonville, Fla. ...
This time of year, we winter-bound types shiver our timbers and wistfully harken back to the glory days of summer.
Ron Mohrhoff speaks about his Bonanza the way most people might speak about their children. “Wow!” he proudly beams on each flight. “This airplane is the best!” ...
I’ve been an accidental student of ornithology for as long as I’ve been alive—and that’s a long time.
Being a professional aerobatic and race pilot for the past several years has given me the opportunity to meet many civilian, military, helicopter, fixed-wing, professional and recreational pilots.
It was discovered last September that my open-cockpit biplane, a Starduster Too, needed an engine overhaul.
Ensuring that there’s a safety margin in everything we do is fundamental to aviation accident avoidance.
Writing for a major aviation publication like Plane & Pilot feels sometimes like being a time traveller.
It has been a long day on a long cross-country flight. The weather forecasts have not been very accurate—you’re reminded of a quote from an anonymous wag: "Weather forecasts are horoscopes with numbers."
When the space shuttle reenters the earth’s atmosphere, it becomes nothing more than a huge glider—with a pretty awful glide ratio—and the shuttle commander gets just one chance to land.
It’s probably the most common question I hear at air shows and conventions such as Sun ’n Fun, AirVenture, AOPA, NBAA and Reno.
I’m one fortunate aviator. My professional career has coincided with the 30-year flight history of the Space Shuttle program.
I always seem to be in the wrong time warp. I was born too late to fly fighters in WWII and too late for the space program.
It started at Disneyland, holding my daughter Elena’s hand, when my cell phone rang.
You might think that FAA airworthiness, inspection and record-keeping requirements virtually guarantee that any airplane you buy is going to be in superb condition. ...
Behold the home of the $100 hamburger, the remnants of a life gone by, when linen-covered, nitrate-doped biplanes landed in potato fields and took small-town kids for rides on balmy summer days.
It seems we all have a story, some event in our lives that brought us into the aviation trade.
I’ve always admired—and envied—bush pilots.
Okay, right up front, in an attempt to stop short any angry letters from Swift owners, I loved my little Swift.
What’s the next big leap in aviation? I think about this stuff all the time.
After earning my private pilot’s license in Alaska in 1980, I wasn’t sure what was next. I loved to fly.
In 2007 I had been going to Moab, Utah, for four years—hiking, running and sightseeing—and I was 20 years a pilot with my own Cherokee 140.
One of the truly wondrous things about general aviation is the ease with which you can reach vacation sites that would be a hassle via road, ferry or airline transportation.