Further dreams of flight
I frequently imagine what it'll be like to take Green Eyed Devil off for the first time. It's the same sort of excitement and anticipation you get when you're 15- you can drive, of course, but you're limited. You're not on the hook for a lot of things, of course, and that's a good thing. I don't remember having to pay for gas when I was driving on a learner's permit, and I definitely didn't have to think about how much it'd cost to machine my damn brake discs or whether I needed to. I just drove when my parents and I went out somewhere and focused on the driving. Similarly, these days I can fly when I want to (more freedom) but dependent on when a plane is available, and it usually costs somewhat more than just the straight cost of gas and distributed maintenance to account for the insurance involved in renting out an airplane, hangar fees, etc etc. True, I don't need to think about the cost of annual inspections, or pay insurance on a plane (you think it's bad in a car? ha!) but it's still tinged with the knowledge that it's not mine. If I knocked down a wall in my house, I'd be in trouble because it isn't really my house. If I painted nose art on my plane, it'd be the same thing.
When I was interested in the Flybaby, I was intoxicated by the thought of flying places in a plane that I'd built myself, with a colours that represented who I was. I was the 15 year old, dreaming of a convertible. And I still am, really. An RV-8 with a sliding top can taxi around like it's an open cockpit, and has many fantastic advantages over the Flybaby. The idea hasn't changed, really... I've just upped my sights from a VW Cabrio to an MX-5. I still catch myself daydreaming of, for sake of argument, picking Henri up from Spokane, or flying Audrey to Seattle for a daytrip, or making the flight to Moose Jaw to see my beloved Snowbirds... in my own plane. Weekend trips wouldn't require coordinating schedules... and if I wanted to change things in the paint or make the panel a Cylon's dream of computing power, I could.
For now, of course, there's the simple matter of living in Sandpoint to attend to, and figuring out exactly where everything is. Then there's the wedding to plan, eventually. To build an airplane requires a workspace, which probably means a house... You get the idea. I'm going to order myself the overview plans, though... and figure out a way to get a demo ride... mixed in with the bajillion other things we've got to do, see, or explore around here. Better make this a long term plan.
-The Proprietor
When I was interested in the Flybaby, I was intoxicated by the thought of flying places in a plane that I'd built myself, with a colours that represented who I was. I was the 15 year old, dreaming of a convertible. And I still am, really. An RV-8 with a sliding top can taxi around like it's an open cockpit, and has many fantastic advantages over the Flybaby. The idea hasn't changed, really... I've just upped my sights from a VW Cabrio to an MX-5. I still catch myself daydreaming of, for sake of argument, picking Henri up from Spokane, or flying Audrey to Seattle for a daytrip, or making the flight to Moose Jaw to see my beloved Snowbirds... in my own plane. Weekend trips wouldn't require coordinating schedules... and if I wanted to change things in the paint or make the panel a Cylon's dream of computing power, I could.
For now, of course, there's the simple matter of living in Sandpoint to attend to, and figuring out exactly where everything is. Then there's the wedding to plan, eventually. To build an airplane requires a workspace, which probably means a house... You get the idea. I'm going to order myself the overview plans, though... and figure out a way to get a demo ride... mixed in with the bajillion other things we've got to do, see, or explore around here. Better make this a long term plan.
-The Proprietor