It’s been over a year since I sold my Citation Mustang. I’ve been moping ever since. I started swearing at the cat, only to find out we don’t own a cat. I argued with Patty over the most trivial matters like the Supreme Court or the future of our Republic. I dug a moat around our house.
It was simply time to get back into the left seat. But first, I had to deal with some realities.
I don’t need and can’t afford a turbine-powered airplane.
Two engines have always been my preference.
At the age of seventy-three, this will likely be my last ride.
It appears to me I buy airplanes so that I will have stories to write about in T &T.
Why not end my ownership career the way it began?
With a Beechcraft Baron. But which one?
My first owned airplane was a B55, the “Baby Baron.” I set off to find one.
I traveled to Nashville, Tennessee, to visit Stephen Hammers, owner of probably the nicest B55 in the world. Winner of a restoration award from the American Bonanza Society, this beauty had everything. Steve was kind enough to take me for a flight after picking me up in his fully restored 1965 Mustang convertible. We spent the day talking airplanes, selling businesses, and life in general. But alas, I realized that after flying for forty years in air-conditioned comfort, Patty and I needed to be slightly more pampered.
While in Wichita for Baron training in FlightSafety’s simulator, I found a beautiful 1979 model 58. Fantastic interior, excellent paint and new Garmin avionics. “What do you mean it’s not pressurized,” Patty questioned.
I caught a Southwest flight to Chicago and met Dan Krause, owner of a well-restored, pressurized Baron. Dan was the consummate host, even preparing lunch for us as we flew to Indianapolis. He included an apple and an orange in the Tupperware container.
What I realized is that you meet some of the nicest people while looking for an airplane. Especially ones built over forty years ago. Each one has a unique story. The logbooks are written like a historical novel. Handwriting analysis was necessary. Ever had an uncle “disappear” for ten years and then show up at a family dinner? One of the Barons I flew seemingly disappeared for ten years, then showed up with eleven additional hours in the logs. I had a blast educating myself.
Then, by chance, I noticed a “project” pressurized Baron in Reno, Nevada.
“Yes, that’s exactly what you need,” said Patty. Another project.”
Next month, meet my project.
Fly safe.
Thank you for the kind words on my B58 in Wichita.