Amelia

I've flown my '80 231 for nearly 30 years, and have had it higher than fl180 exactly twice. Routinely fly in the teens, though, when I can find anything but ferocious headwinds. So glad to find this discussion, because 2020 approacheth quickly. Being short and pudgy, and thus very close to the panel, I found no way to mount a standard iPad without obstructing my view or interfering with the landing flare. I am pleased as punch, therefore, with an iPad mini (running FlyQ) mounted horizontally on the yoke with one of those X-back Ram mounts. The X-mount's exposure to airflow is helpful, as I haven't had the ipad overheat and shut down since I got the yoke mount.

I had Hector do a spectacular job on my interior, fake leather on the cracked and yellowed panels, reupholstered seats, and all, and I forget how many years later, maybe six, I could hardly be happier. Still looks like new. Aerocomfort can count me as one very happy customer. I only wish I had let him talk me into doing the yokes, too.

Does "serving" as a Navy flight surgeon's wife count? Still have a slight cardiac flutter when I see a handsome guy wearing wings of gold!

What a fine weekend. The whole thing was just magnificent. Speakers were superb, parties were great, and what fun to see old friends! Cairns did explain to somebody on the freq this afternoon that he had 60 Mooneys outbound just then. Was he braggin' or complainIn'?

Join us on the prettiest day of 2016 for our sometimes-annual airport fly-in and open house. We'll have antique airplanes, antique cars, and antique pilots, food, Young Eagles rides, static displays, radio-controlled airplanes, food available. We will start the day off at 8am, with coffee, doughnuts, and an FAA Wings seminar on Non-towered Operations, which the presenter assures us will be fun. Lively, even, he chuckles wickedly. Fly in and join the fun. Free parking, free admission, free camping on the field. Come for the day, stay for the weekend, in historic Edenton, The Prettiest Small Town in the South. KEDE! Northeastern Regional Airport, Edenton, NC It would do this Mooniac's heart good to have Mooneys outnumber everything else on the ramp!!!z

My plane was named early on by a couple of Dr. Seuss fans, who insisted we read "Marvin K Mooney, Will You Please Go Now," at least twice a night until they were old enough to read it themselves. So, no surprise, when we acquired our K Mooney, he was dubbed Marvin by our middle-school age kids. So it is, 30 years later. Now my grandchildren appreciate the literary reference.

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PS... Who needs a pack-n-play or a bulky stroller? Our infants were known to be bedded down in a hotel bureau drawer. When they got too big for that, bedspreads on the carpet, bounded by pillows worked fine. We used snuggly carriers for tiny ones, and collapsible backpacks, so happy toddlers could see where they were going. Dad's shoulders provided the best ride ever, until they were big enough to keep up. Then, (y'all can hate me now) we found a harness and leash -designed for small bipeds, gave a fast and curious little guy much of the freedom he craved without the "oh, where is he now" parental anxiety. Anyway, all that fit in the C-172, then the Mooney without any trouble.

That is a great plan for a first child. With a second, the list gets a lot shorter. Sort of akin to the old saying that no battle plan survives first engagement with the enemy. You learn that most of the kiddie cartage is a burden rather than a boon. You pare the equipment list to bare necessities. And then reduce that by half. And unless you really get a kick out of complex logistics, you'll find spur-of-the-moment trips, (hey, it's a gorgeous beach weekend) are worth considering. Does wonders for your flexibility and improvisation skills. Hang loose. Be safe, but don't get all wrapped around the axle with details. If you need it, and you are traveling in the lower 49, I guarantee it is for sale wherever you are going, but you probably won't need it, Kids are great pax. They sleep until they are old enough to look out the window and see wondrous things. My not-quite-two grandson and I were flying from his old home in Lansing to his new home near St. Louis. A while after leveling off, there was a squealing, "Gramagramagrama, YOOK! Baff!!!" Smallest boy was beside himself with excitement to see the expanse of deep blue Lake Michigan before him, and used the only word in his limited vocabulary to describe that much water all in one place. Bath!

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Oh, if only Science had been invented in early 70s when the copilot was awarded his Navy Flight Surgeon wings. Gas laws, hypoxia and hypobaric studies were still to come, eons in the future. If only his decades of pediatric experience had been as well-grounded and concerned as Tom's. If only there had been Science in the late 1970s, when I got my license and and then my first little airplane, we might have been much more adequate parents to our middle-sized children. We would certainly not have made :horrors: jokes. If only we had known about Science, we surely wouldn't have taken our dear young'uns skiing at Vale and Aspen, way up there in the rarified atmosphere, for fear of needing a neurologist worse than we might have needed an Orthopod. We would not have allowed them as teenagers to earn their SCUBA certs. (:yikes: decompression!) But we took these unconscionable risks, and more, with our darlings and worse, made silly jokes, oops, sorry, because we thought the risks were far outweighed by life-enhancing benefits. And despite the terrible upbringing, they grew up to be competent, interesting and kind people, they still seem to love us, and seek out our company. For that undeserved good fortune, we continue to be thankful, and do try not to tell them how to rear their own brilliant and altogether-wonderful children. They seem to be doing quite well on their own, but maybe that is because we are ALL a bit brain-damaged, and we just don't know any better. Thank you, anyway for your so-serious concern, Tom. No more jokes from me, even little ones, at least not many, for fear they might provoke self-righteous ire in smarter, more responsible and scientifically-literate folk than we are. Please forgive me my misplaced levity. I am hopeless, scientifically, ethically, and intellectually. It is all that hypoxia. And second-hand smoke in my own abused youth. At least I have never been to Flint.)

Oh, dear, Tom... How cavalier of everybody who has driven so heedlessly over high Rocky Mountain passes, while their children dozed peacefully in the back seat. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. I have done that terrible thing, too. Should have invested in a pressurized car. Unfortunately, I didn't have the benefit of your expertise and stern admonishment way back then, and the poor little dears lived to reproduce despite our idiotic abuse. BTW, we have never flown at altitudes requiring oxygen without providing it for everybody, and monitoring them. But, do un-wad thy skivvies long enough to realize that kids get much less quarrelsome at 8000 feet, at least ours did, without noticeable lasting CNS deficit.

My MD copilot thinks not letting the baby drink 100LL should be sufficient. I suspect the sensible precautions you already take will be fine. Earphones are a good thing if you can sell them or tiny soft earplugs. I can guarantee the nice 2-hour naps in the airplane will be far more beneficial both to the wee one and parents than 20 fussy, uncomfortable hours in a car. My kids endured a lot of cross-country airplane hours before kiddie headsets were available, and they suffered no ill effects ... that I noticed. Also, only slightly tongue-in-cheek, mild hypoxia and/or Bonine seemed to provide much better sibling rivalry reduction than dire threats from cranky mom in the driver's seat.

I hope to be there. Found a couch-surfing host to save me from tenting.

What is the ramp/parking fee situation? Suspended for the party, maybe?

The Elizabeth City B2Osh clinic is full, not enough safety pilots, I gather. I'd go for sure, otherwise. My son, Bert, was mightily impressed with the fun we had with the Caravan people. So much so, that he's considering driving, if Rob and I don't make it to Madison/OSH,. He wonders if he could show up in the North 40 and tuck in behind somebody's Mooney wing with his little tent. Mimi ("scoop") Reiheld

I bailed out of Ohio a couple of decades ago, when it was still $5/seat. It is still fun to go back and see old friends and smell the Amish agriculture, but my visitors from Wooster a week ago or so, still had snow on the ground. In April. That's just wrong!!! They loved Edenton's garden tour, enjoyed the azaleas tolerated the 65-degree sunshine I apologized for. It is usually 75 here that week.

I hope the stay in Orlando is lovely, and the northbound leg includes another stop in Edenton. What lovely fun people!

I agree that the Garmin interface with the engine monitor is a lovely thing with very useful information at a glance. My mechanic has just urged me to upgrade from the EDM730 to the 830, for the cost of the extra probes, as he is going to be in there anyway installing a repaired fuel flow gizmo. He raved about the increased utility with OAT, RPM, %hp, and other nice stuff to know. He promises a cleaner panel, too, with several redundant gauges gone. We shall see how wonderful it all is for the extra 1.3AMUs.

I appreciate having my right-seater actively engaged. I appreciate having a quiet queried reminder if it seems I may have overlooked something, if something needs my immediate attention, if there's a better way to accomplish a task. Once, my copilot in my fairly new-to-me Mooney was a consummate Mooney pilot, smooth as glass. We were coming home from a short trip and the engine faltered and quit without warning. He calmly advised "switch-tanks" as my hand was headed between the seats. The engine roared back to life, we landed uneventfully, and the mechanic sorted out the problem quickly. It didn't matter that there was clearly plenty of fuel in that tank. It didn't matter that I had just switched to the fuller tank as we began our descent. It didn't matter whose job it was. Switch now. My action was confirmed by a better pilot, no drama. That experience happened again years later. in another airplane. The Cherokee's engine began to sputter on a remarkably generous downwind leg, and I suggested switching tanks, as the pilot shuffled through voluminous notes to see when the last time it was done. I couldn't reach the switch by the pilot's left knee, another more urgent request to switch now was rejected, because surely the half hour wasn't up yet, I have the time written down here somewhere...and we entered base leg with the engine on its last cough. I said much more firmly, Nevermind that, Switch. Tanks.Now. NOW! The third admonition was the charm, and we entered our 4-mile final under power while the pilot huffily continued to insist that tank couldn't possibly be empty. But empty it was, and the gauge agreed. I opined that In my thankfully-limited experience, there were other reasons to have the fuel flow interrupted, that the time to check the records was after the landing, not before, but it was not a point conceded. Awkward!! But not as awkward as putting it into the bean field not very far ahead, with 10 gallons of gas still in the other tank. CRM is hard for those of us who fly single pilot, and even harder when we have been trained in very different circumstances. My friend learned at a busy commercial field where the traffic pattern usually meant tucking in behind an airliner or C-130. I learned to chop power abeam the numbers and land on the 25'x 2900' strip beneath the C150's left wing. My first CFI had no use for radios. My friend revered them. Both were valid, but we had very different ideas on how to fly a little airplane. I hope not to be that pilot, ignoring good advice because it's MY airplane.

Having made the wrong decision last time, (we were in Pensacola, already had a rental car, what the heck,) I strongly urge you to fly. That coastal drive was the longest, slowest 100-mile crawl past more money-spending opportunities than I've ever seen in one afternoon. Bet there wasn't a half mile along the entire route that there wasn't a shopping center. Went back along back roads through the pine woods to the north and saved hours.

I got the Cook's tour for a feature article some years ago, and then got to fly the latest and greatest off the assembly line, an Ovation2 as I recall. It was quite an experience to fly what was, essentially, a hand-crafted airplane, with all the glass gadgetry they could fit in the panel. I'd love to see the factory's modernization. And yes, climbing back in what was then a 20-something year old Mooney, in need of upgrades, was a bit of a comedown, I had to smile, though, as I compared my fuel flow with theirs. Told it, as I patted its faded cowling, there was not a thing wrong with being second-best. We really liked our stay at the Hangar Hotel right there on the runway at Frederick, All by itself, it was worth the he trip, with its WWII ambience. We rented a car, enjoyed the town of Frederick, and the lovely hill country wild flowers. Pretty early-morning drive to the Mooney factory from there. I bet that would be a hit for a history buff. The transients on the ramp were fine warbirds, active military aircraft, and pretty homebuilts.

Must have been tiny super-cooled water droplets in very light mist, (not rain), because the OAT was well above freezing. I leveled off at 2500, the bases were at about 42-4500, at least ten miles of visibility, and wham! Where'd that come from!?! I thought I could get away with it if I stayed well below what would surely be icy, but was prepared to pull the plug on the trip if it got ugly. And sure enough, It got ugly, uglier than forecast by a good margin. . And yes, the prop heat was on. Sure was glad those boots got fixed earlier in the year. It was OK, though. I'd already spent a week earlier visiting with my mother, who had run completely out of fun in her world, and my local siblings, knew she didn't have long. We will all gather at the beach this summer and tell stories in much better weather.

OK! Looks like a nice thing.

1. nope. My favorite passenger is far too motion sickness-prone for the turbulence that would entail, and that much crosswind would be more of a challenge than I'd enjoy. 2. I'd go. 3. Once upon a time I'd have said sure. That is why they taught us the zero/zero takeoff, right? BTDT. Survived.. That was before my exhaust system sprang a bad leak on takeoff. If it hadn't been VFR, I might not have made it back, with burning fiberglass filling cabin with acrid smoke. So now if I can't shoot an approach to return promptly when things go badly wrong, I don't take off. Older, yes. Wiser, maybe, but surely more timid. 4. I'd go, for sure, wth onboard weather and good alternates. As previously noted, sounds like a typical summer day in LA. (Lower Alabama) 5. No. That sounds like a sure chance to spend the night in some fleabag hotel a long way from home or destination. Meh. So here's one for you: Sunday morning phone call this past February, summoning us from NE NC to Mobile, Al. My mother has breathed her last at 93, after a long illness. Everybody is going to be there, good, good people. ASOS at EDE wind 260/15 Temp 45, dew point 40, ceiling ovc 4300, tops way up. Light rain. Temps aloft 42 at 3000, 34 at 6000. Clearing 120 miles south, nice enough the rest of the way. The funeral is Tuesday afternoon. Monday forecast is horrible, probably unflyable here. Supposed to be OK all the way home on Wednesday, maybe. Do I launch? Of course. Right away, as conditions are expected to deteriorate here. Plan is to stay low, beneath the clouds all the way to warmer and clearer 45 minutes southwest of here. Return early Wednesday for Thursday predawn commercial flight from BWI to HI to begin to settle recently deceased MIL's estate. Sigh. It was a hard month for the great grandmothers. So off we took. Climb out in light chop, ceilings at least 1400 feet above us, But oddly, OAT at 2500 was 38. We were 20 miles from home, headed southwest in reasonable VFR, but best not punch into those leaden clouds. We put off picking up the IFR clearance in order to stay low. Suddenly the rest of the flight plan was made for us, as thick mixed ice coated the windshield and leading edges. Nope. 180 time! Max defrost heat. Pitot heat already on. Descend to slightly warmer over the cotton fields and swamp, head for home. Ice melts, landing uneventful, excuses to family made. Light fire in fireplace, think fun memories of dear old lady. My dear siblings buried Mama quite handily without my supervision, on a very cold and windy gulf coast winter day.