I have to mention this because it really touches a nerve as for why I chose so late in life a professional flying career. So I’m doing my type rating right now, and our TRI is a very nice elderly gentleman, one of only two TRIs left for the type in Europe.
Obviously he’s very knowledgeable, but what fascinates me the most are the stories he tells us about his earlier life as pilot. What an adventurous life this man must have had. Just yesterday he mentioned “Oh, yeah, I remember when I flew for Henry Kissinger…” Or casually telling us about flying the DH Vampire, the Draken and whatnot. Or being a crewmember in the Catalina…
These stories are a lesson on their own!
There are some great old characters in GA. One I have flown with (he was an FI for many years) used to fly dodgy arms cargo flights (B747 mostly) on behalf of the govt, doing spiral approaches from FL300 all the way down to Kabul, at night, no lights on the aircraft… He also told great stories about incidents on various planes. He is still flying and, in his 80s, sharp as ever.
Unfortunately for every one of these there is at least one bull$hitter, and I have flown with a fair number of those too 
The “best” one, actually a very good instructor if rather aggressive, had to disappear after some interesting financial adventures at an FTO, not to mention other types of adventures involving female students not necessarily over the age of consent 
My goal is to be one of those old guys in 30 years with lots of great stories, only partially made up (excluding the ones about under aged girls:))…
Of course, I’ll explain how flying is nothing like it was back in the good old days of 2008-2020 when you still had to be an aviator (not a button pusher) to fly!
A few years ago, I had an interesting encounter on a business trip to Amsterdam. I was part of a group of people to be taken from the hotel to the airport. A black van pulled into the parking zone. Out came the driver, a bushy-browed gray-haired “grandpa” in Ray-Bans and an immaculate dark blue suit, and sarcastically asked the girl who was coordinating the departures:
- Where’s the fire?
- I’m sorry?
- Where’s the fire? You called me so many times during the last half an hour, I thought you were having a fire and I would have to evacuate the victims. We had a booking for 18:00, and it’s only 17:20 now.
- I am sorry, I only wanted to ask if you could possibly come earlier…
- Well, I am here, how many passengers have you got?
- Eight, can you take everybody?
The driver just opened the door without saying a word.
The coordinator counted the seats and said:
- Yes, eight. Please get in.
The driver interjected:
- Please leave your luggage outside, I will load it myself.
I took the last seat, the one in front. The driver sternly reminded everyone to fasten the seatbelts, then pulled off smoothly but energetically. After several traffic lights, I started to feel something unusual yet familiar, then realised that the man was consciously exploiting Newton’s laws instead of trying to overcome them like many drivers do, giving a brilliant show of energy management and anticipating the necessary maneuvres well in advance, as if seeing the road far ahead. When we arrived and everyone else left, I said:
- May I ask you a private question?
- Sure.
- Judging by the way you managed us passengers and the way you were driving, I got an impression you are a retired pilot. Are you?
As it turned out, he had indeed flown for KLM for 33 years plus a few years elsewhere – DC-3, DC-8, 737, 747… No longer medically fit to fly, he was working the airport transfers to stay close to aviation. We didn’t have time for colourful flying stories, but he was certainly a very colourful personality. I wish I could find him once again and invite him for a flight or three.
Ultranomad wrote:
After several traffic lights, I started to feel something unusual yet familiar, then realised that the man was consciously exploiting Newton’s laws instead of trying to overcome them like many drivers do, giving a brilliant show of energy management and anticipating the necessary maneuvres well in advance, as if seeing the road far ahead.
I do that, too! I never thought it would be a common thing with pilots…
Digging up this old thread.
Some time ago we were flying the Challenger into Casablanca. After landing, I hear a – apparently British gentleman – ask where to taxi as Casablanca was his alternate and nobody was expecting him. From the exchange with Ground one could tell he was flying single pilot.
So we get to our parking spot and next to us there is parked a Spanish registered C172. I go into the FBO and there is an elderly Brit talking to the handling guy. I asked him if he was the one diverting into Casablanca and if the C172 was his. It was, we got into a chat and he was flying on his own from San Sebastian to Lagos, Nigeria. Apparently he was an ex British Airways captain who just couldn’t stop flying and needed some adventure. A very nice bloke. I wished I had some more time to talk to him on how he organised the trip. He was doing parts VFR and parts IFR. Interesting guy to say the least!
From a retired Belgian pilot:
“We used to fly cobalt mangoes back from the Congo. The cargo manifest definitely said ‘mango’, but the problem was that whatever the heading, the compass always pointed aft”
One of the unfortunate effects of CV19 is that one can no longer meet up with these great old pilots in the airfield cafe. Zoom doesn’t replace this at all… very sad.
Back in the good old days (January), seems like a lifetime ago now, one of my favourite overnights was in St George, Utah. The courtesy shuttle is a long ride into town, plenty of time to get to know the driver. One lady told me she had been a pilot owner, now retired from LA and living in St George to be near her son who’d moved there. What did she own? (I’d just arrived in a C-172). Oh, a B-25. Really. She’d flown it in the movie business until a few years ago. Wish I knew who she was. They had another driver in the morning and I never found out.
Back in the bad old days, just after 9/11, I went to the old St. George airfield to enquire about renting. The first FBO’s response at the desk was: “No way”, and he was phoning other businesses on the airfield to warn them about me.
I drove on to Grand Junction, where I got a warm welcome, and a check-out/ biennial next day, from an FBO I’d used several times before.
