Beginning the trip – Lubbock, Texas
“…the real value of a plane for me is in the personal emotional value that private aviation returns.
I am often asked if owning a plane is worth the money. The answer is complicated because an airplane is expensive and, in my opinion, never really pays for itself if you are calculating “worth” in terms of dollars made because of access to private aviation. The common argument is that business aviation saves time and makes money for the user because the businessperson can visit multiple locations in a short period of time, access clients, and make a deal that could not have been made over the phone or by using traditional travel. All of this may be true (or maybe just a justification), but the real value of a plane for me is in the personal emotional value that private aviation returns.
In the car business, we define employees as “productive” and “nonproductive”. These labels do not mean that the non-productive employee is worthless. Instead, it means that the employee’s direct monetary contribution to the bottom line is harder to track. My role as President qualifies as a non-productive employee because I do not sell a particular item or service that can be directly traced to gross profit like a salesperson or technician. I analyze the plane the same way I do nonproductive employees. It provides a service that cannot be precisely measured but certainly contributes to the betterment of the organization. In the end, the question comes down to “is the expense worth it?” For me, and my business, the answer is a definite yes. I’m able to go to regional manufacturer meetings, board meetings, and visit other business locations fast and efficiently.
But what about the flip side? Most of us also use our plane for personal reasons. What is the productive use of your airplane when flying yourself to go fishing or taking the family for spring break? Is owning the plane “worth” the cost of flying it? If you measure the “worth” in terms of dollars and cents, then it may be hard to justify the personal use of a plane. It is certainly more expensive than driving. If, instead, the measurement is emotional reward, most pilots would agree that the benefit outweighs the cost. Pilots love to fly regardless of the mission. When we are grounded for maintenance or severe weather, we constantly look skyward and measure the car trip against the time it would have taken in the air. There is just something about flying that is better than just about everything else. Flying for work is fun, but flying with your family is even better.
When I first started flying, my wife refused to fly with me and precluded my kids from tagging along. Her stance on family flying ended the next summer when it was time for the kids to go to camp in Arkansas and North Carolina. Suddenly, packing the kids in the plane seemed a better option than several hours in the car. Flying eliminated the long drives and several days away from work for the round-trip to camp. Then, two or three weeks later, we had to do the trip again for the pickup. As I look back over those years, the emotional bonding with my kids in the plane cannot be measured. As youngsters, they loved the introduction to flying, seeing the ground from up high and asking questions along the flight. But of all the trips I’ve made with my kids, their college tours have always been my favorite. These excursions were a sort of last hurrah before they became adults and started making their own decisions far away from the safety of our house and watchful eye. Within a year of our college exploratory tour, the kids would be gone, and our relationship with each other would transform from parent-child to adult peers. Time had passed us by. As parents, my wife and I mourned their leaving, while the kids jumped at the opportunity for independence. For the older two, when we finally dropped them at college, I felt as though we aged while they matured. We were left with one at home, and he would soon be following in their same footsteps.
For each of the pilgrimages, we planned a multi-day, multi-college visit trying to see as many university campuses as possible in the shortest window of time. March 2026 was the last of these tours as my now
eighteen-year-old son and I finished his five-state journey. In April 2016 and again in January 2019, I planned similar trips with our older daughters. For all three children, we visited different regions of the country and vastly diverse schools.
With our oldest daughter, she had a friend graduating in the same class who was interested in the same schools. His dad and I are close friends, so it made for an excellent opportunity to partner up and split costs. We covered the entire east coast from Virginia, down to Tennessee, and into North Carolina. Over five days, we visited six schools, flew 1780 miles, and spent 14.1 hours crammed into our 1981Mooney M20J. I did a similar trip again two years later with our second daughter, visiting schools mainly in the south. The trip was a little easier because she had narrowed her choices to three schools in Texas and Alabama. We visited her top three choices in two days, covering 1,240 miles with a mere 9.7 hours behind the yoke. Seven years later, my son and I loaded up and headed out for what is likely my last college tour (unless I am still lucky enough to still be flying when my grandkids go to college).
This one really hit home. He is the youngest, and his college tour marks the beginning of our empty-nest phase in life. There is now a realization that my wife and I are on the backside of the curve. My son chose to visit southern schools with big-time sports programs. We had four days to tour six schools in five states. Only with private aviation is such a tour possible in that short amount of time with the distance between visits. In all, my son and I traveled 2,500 miles, visited nine airports, six colleges, and spent about 11.5 hours in the plane. We rented six cars, ate at Chick-fil-A a total of five times (there is a Chick-fil-A on every college campus, and nuggets are easy to eat in a rental car while hustling to another airport), and racked up enough Hilton Points to get upgraded rooms. We graded the various FBO’s on their free snacks and kindness of the staff. Texas Jet in Fort Worth wins by a landslide with their free golf shirt, ice cream, and loads of complimentary chips. After my son’s generous interpretation of “free,” they may need to revamp their gratis snack program.
Planning a trip over multiple days in multiple states is never easy, and weather is always a factor. All three college tours required navigating weather, avoiding ice and wintry mix, and a lot of full IFR flying. Even though one tour was in January, one in March, and one in May, we encountered similar weather on all three trips. My logbook notes describe the events as “dodged weather and deviations cost us an hour.” And, “Glad to get home, ice storm expected tomorrow.” Somehow, even with weather challenges, we never missed a tour. We spent hours sitting in FBO’s waiting out the weather or running for the plane trying to get airborne ahead of an oncoming line of storms. Despite some dark skies, we adjusted schedules and trekked on.
Looking back at all three trips, a day or a week difference in planning could have derailed the trip entirely. This last trip I scheduled during my son’s spring break in March. If his break had been a week earlier or a week later, the whole tour would have been cancelled because of major weather events in the South and Midwest. Reviewing my notes from the first trips in 2016 and 2019, major weather delayed our arrival for two college tours, but none were cancelled. There was definite divine intervention for all three excursions.
The bonding time I had with my soon-to-be adult children is something that is irreplaceable. My wife wanted me to do these trips alone because my work schedule usually prevents me from taking time for one-on-one events like this. Spending hours upon hours in rental cars, on student tours, in hotels, and in the cockpit, we enjoyed meaningful time with each other that is nearly impossible in the digital age. In the air, there is no Wi-Fi or cellular. It is just two people sitting, pilot and co-pilot, passing the time in conversation. The bonding is different from a road trip because there is no connectivity except to each other. The funny thing was that sometimes there was so much talking that I instituted the DNDD rule (Do Not Disturb Dad), mainly during the critical phases of flight.
Just recently, Starlink changed their subscription plans for general aviation, making the addition of in-flight connectivity too expensive for many general aviation pilots. Pilots in chat rooms and online forums are lamenting Starlink’s new pricing plan and begging the company to rethink and offer a reasonable subscription price for onboard Wi-Fi. Some pilots advocate that it makes working during the flights possible by receiving texts and emails, and they contend that their passengers are happier being connected. I disagree. Onboard connectivity in General Aviation can be unsafe for pilots, but more importantly, being disconnected for a few hours is good for the soul. We have been connected for so long, it is hard to remember how nice it is to be free of the constant ringing and buzzing of a cell phone.
While business aviation is great, nothing compares to quality family time without the digital distraction. My older two have moved out, and both are getting married. One is moving to Seattle, which seems a world away even with the speed and endurance of the TBM. My youngest is now not far behind. My dad used to tell me that life passes you by at amazing speed. He was not wrong. My advice to any parents who still have kids in the house is to take a college tour (or any trip) before it’s too late, and the kids are grown up and move out.
Harry Chapin’s 1974 hit “The Cat’s in Cradle” tells the story of a father too wrapped up in his career to spend time with his son. As the son grows into a man, he mimics his father’s behavior, and both become isolated. The song highlights the irony of lost familial bonds and opportunities. Our digital environment encourages and rewards detachment. As parents, we must cut the stranglehold of the digital world as often as we can. There is no better place to isolate outside distractions than in the front seat of a plane where access to the digital world is restricted. We cannot stop the new environment of WiFi everywhere, but we can periodically isolate ourselves from the digital noise pollution. Trips with your kids are our opportunity to tune in to our children one last time before they drop out of our nest and into a new one. Go flying, enjoy the scenery, and chat with your child. It is good for your soul (and theirs), I promise.
