339A
Well Known Member
Words of Encouragement for the Reluctant Flyer
The following piece is one that my wife, Debra, wrote a while ago. It was originally slotted to be published in Sport Aviation but with the magazine changes, it was put on hold. While it's not a travel story per se, it relates Deb's travel experiences in 339A up till now.
With Oshkosh less than a week away, we thought it might be an appropriate time to post it. It's written from the point of view of a passenger who had no idea what she was getting herself into with this flying business. The intent being that we might help other would-be spouses/significant others to take the next step.
Regards,
Scott Mills
Words of Encouragement for the Reluctant Flyer
The Fear Factor: It's All Relative
by Debra Mills (with Scott's tips for pilots)
Wife of RVator Scott Mills
There are women who share the love of aviation with the men in their lives. There are women whose passion for flight prompts them to become pilots. There are even women who build their own airplanes. Then there are the rest of us?women who never imagined they would one day be traveling in a single-engine aircraft that was built in their garage; women who are a wee bit apprehensive about climbing in and taking off into the blue.
When my husband began seriously entertaining the idea of building an airplane, I asked the usual questions: Are you kidding?! How safe is it? How much will it cost? How long will it take? Is there really enough room in our garage to build an airplane?
I had my doubts as to whether or not the project would come to completion, but as a committed friend of my husband?s excitement, I became an enthusiastic supporter. I was a willing participant in many a discussion about whether ?this or that? might be the best course of action. As Scott geared up to begin the project, we took a family camping vacation that involved driving 36 hours and 2,400 miles round-trip to attend a builders? seminar and shop the seemingly endless hangars and tents of aviation ?stuff? at AirVenture.
Once Scott had made the decision as to which aircraft he was going to build, Mr. Brown began delivering those large wooden crates. As we set about the task of unpacking and inventorying parts, I remember thinking that the project was going to take f-o-r-e-v-e-r. I just could not envision the countless bits and bobs being transformed into an airworthy flying machine for two.
Once construction commenced, I served more than a few hours as devoted building assistant?dimpling, inserting clecos, riveting, or simply providing companionship and snacks. But the idea of actually traveling anywhere in the finished product seemed more like a pipe dream than a probability.
Knowing my husband as I do, I should not have been surprised by his self-driven motivation; but I was. During the four years that it took to finish the RV9A, I became a builder?s widow. When not traveling for business, which he does quite frequently, Scott spent every spare moment in the garage. On the rare (wink, wink) occasion that I became snarky about the time, attention, and money that was being lavished on ?the aluminum mistress,? he bucked me up with talk of all the fun we?d have traveling together once the plane was airborne. But, as I was quick to remind him, flying was his thing?not mine.
Prior to building, my involvement in Scott?s flying activities was minimal. Between the time he earned his wings in July of 1997 and my first stint in the passenger seat of the RV in 2006, I had flown with him on just three occasions. While I?m sure he would have welcomed more participation on my part, my lack of interest wasn?t of major significance.
When talk of building began, however, it became clear that Scott?s mission had changed: He intended to put some serious miles on the RV, and yours truly was to be his flying buddy! It was easy enough to muster enthusiasm at the prospect of flitting about in a home-built airplane while it lay in pieces in the garage, but the time would eventually come when I?d have to follow through. Fast forward four years ?
Once friend and test pilot Dave Petri had put N339A through her paces, and Scott had gotten up-to-snuff with his aviating skills (following a seven-year hiatus and a significant change in topography), the long-awaited day finally arrived when I buckled into the passenger seat of the airplane I had helped to build.
Enjoying Life at Altitude in 2010
At some point during the building phase, Scott began telling me about a group of folks who had traveled to the islands in their RVs. This was all quite interesting, of course, but not something I had a strong desire to do. As rumors of a return trip to the Turks & Caicos began surfacing, Scott pulled out all the stops in getting me onboard with the idea.
Although I had about 30 passenger hours under my belt by the time we journeyed to the British West Indies, I was still a relative newbie. The list of things I had yet to experience at this point included a leg longer than 1.25 hours in duration, more than 2.5 hours of total flight time on any given day, flying with a group, flying amongst the clouds, flying across the water, flying in the rain, and flying through the dreaded wake turbulence. The majority of my flight time had been of the $100-hamburger variety.
It?s important to note that while 30 hours were relatively few before embarking on a 5,100-mile voyage, it was a solid foundation upon which to build. To my pilot?s credit, he?d had the good sense to take things slow and steady up to that point. Had he not been insightful enough from the get-go to appreciate the importance of his flying buddy?s state of mind, my first ride in the RV might well have been my last. Scott?s calm, cool, and collected behavior was instrumental in easing my anxieties on the Turks trip?the last thing a nervous passenger needs is a nervous pilot! While Scott may well have been anxious on the inside, he never let me see it.
More to follow ...
The following piece is one that my wife, Debra, wrote a while ago. It was originally slotted to be published in Sport Aviation but with the magazine changes, it was put on hold. While it's not a travel story per se, it relates Deb's travel experiences in 339A up till now.
With Oshkosh less than a week away, we thought it might be an appropriate time to post it. It's written from the point of view of a passenger who had no idea what she was getting herself into with this flying business. The intent being that we might help other would-be spouses/significant others to take the next step.
Regards,
Scott Mills
Words of Encouragement for the Reluctant Flyer
The Fear Factor: It's All Relative
by Debra Mills (with Scott's tips for pilots)
Wife of RVator Scott Mills
There are women who share the love of aviation with the men in their lives. There are women whose passion for flight prompts them to become pilots. There are even women who build their own airplanes. Then there are the rest of us?women who never imagined they would one day be traveling in a single-engine aircraft that was built in their garage; women who are a wee bit apprehensive about climbing in and taking off into the blue.
When my husband began seriously entertaining the idea of building an airplane, I asked the usual questions: Are you kidding?! How safe is it? How much will it cost? How long will it take? Is there really enough room in our garage to build an airplane?
I had my doubts as to whether or not the project would come to completion, but as a committed friend of my husband?s excitement, I became an enthusiastic supporter. I was a willing participant in many a discussion about whether ?this or that? might be the best course of action. As Scott geared up to begin the project, we took a family camping vacation that involved driving 36 hours and 2,400 miles round-trip to attend a builders? seminar and shop the seemingly endless hangars and tents of aviation ?stuff? at AirVenture.
Once Scott had made the decision as to which aircraft he was going to build, Mr. Brown began delivering those large wooden crates. As we set about the task of unpacking and inventorying parts, I remember thinking that the project was going to take f-o-r-e-v-e-r. I just could not envision the countless bits and bobs being transformed into an airworthy flying machine for two.
Once construction commenced, I served more than a few hours as devoted building assistant?dimpling, inserting clecos, riveting, or simply providing companionship and snacks. But the idea of actually traveling anywhere in the finished product seemed more like a pipe dream than a probability.
Knowing my husband as I do, I should not have been surprised by his self-driven motivation; but I was. During the four years that it took to finish the RV9A, I became a builder?s widow. When not traveling for business, which he does quite frequently, Scott spent every spare moment in the garage. On the rare (wink, wink) occasion that I became snarky about the time, attention, and money that was being lavished on ?the aluminum mistress,? he bucked me up with talk of all the fun we?d have traveling together once the plane was airborne. But, as I was quick to remind him, flying was his thing?not mine.
Prior to building, my involvement in Scott?s flying activities was minimal. Between the time he earned his wings in July of 1997 and my first stint in the passenger seat of the RV in 2006, I had flown with him on just three occasions. While I?m sure he would have welcomed more participation on my part, my lack of interest wasn?t of major significance.
When talk of building began, however, it became clear that Scott?s mission had changed: He intended to put some serious miles on the RV, and yours truly was to be his flying buddy! It was easy enough to muster enthusiasm at the prospect of flitting about in a home-built airplane while it lay in pieces in the garage, but the time would eventually come when I?d have to follow through. Fast forward four years ?
Once friend and test pilot Dave Petri had put N339A through her paces, and Scott had gotten up-to-snuff with his aviating skills (following a seven-year hiatus and a significant change in topography), the long-awaited day finally arrived when I buckled into the passenger seat of the airplane I had helped to build.
Enjoying Life at Altitude in 2010
At some point during the building phase, Scott began telling me about a group of folks who had traveled to the islands in their RVs. This was all quite interesting, of course, but not something I had a strong desire to do. As rumors of a return trip to the Turks & Caicos began surfacing, Scott pulled out all the stops in getting me onboard with the idea.
Although I had about 30 passenger hours under my belt by the time we journeyed to the British West Indies, I was still a relative newbie. The list of things I had yet to experience at this point included a leg longer than 1.25 hours in duration, more than 2.5 hours of total flight time on any given day, flying with a group, flying amongst the clouds, flying across the water, flying in the rain, and flying through the dreaded wake turbulence. The majority of my flight time had been of the $100-hamburger variety.
It?s important to note that while 30 hours were relatively few before embarking on a 5,100-mile voyage, it was a solid foundation upon which to build. To my pilot?s credit, he?d had the good sense to take things slow and steady up to that point. Had he not been insightful enough from the get-go to appreciate the importance of his flying buddy?s state of mind, my first ride in the RV might well have been my last. Scott?s calm, cool, and collected behavior was instrumental in easing my anxieties on the Turks trip?the last thing a nervous passenger needs is a nervous pilot! While Scott may well have been anxious on the inside, he never let me see it.
More to follow ...
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