A Lesson Learned the Hard Way

More Than A Numbers Game

By Mark Baker
AOPA President and CEO

Aviators are a meticulous bunch. We focus on the numbers in flight: speeds, temperatures, positions, altitudes, and headings. We've been taught from day one to follow - and trust - the numbers. They'll rarely steer you wrong.

In my many years of flying, I am still beholden to the numbers to help me be where I need to be, when I need to I be there. But, as I have learned, the numbers are only one element of the safety equation. There's just no substitute for observation and intuition.

I learned the lesson that the numbers aren't always what they seem through an interesting journey with my Cessna 185. I've had a long and winding love affair with this airplane, and I have flown it to many destinations across the country. While I've said many times that there is no perfect airplane, the 185 comes close. It does so many things so well.

I originally met and bought this 1982 Skywagon in 2010 and for four

years, it served me well. But in 2014, when it had 1,125 hours on the tach, I moved on. I had some sense, however, that the aircraft and I hadn't seen eachother for the last time.

I assumed that the 185 and - could just pick up our relationship where we

had left off. Such a low-time airplane. What could go wrong?

When I had the chance to buy back the 185 in 2018, I jumped. The new owner rarely used it, and it was basically the same airplane I knew. In fact, in four years, the owner logged only 10 hours. Ten!

I assumed that the 185 and I could I just pick up our relationship where we

had left off. It was a 36-year-old airplane with less than 1,150 hours on it. Such a low -time airplane. What could go wrong? Plenty, when the engine is that old, too. As you often do in a relationship, I started to notice some quirks. The engine seemed to be running a little hot, it wasn't as smooth as I recalled, and it was bleeding oil. I knew something was off when I needed to add four quarts at every fuel stop. While it's not a good thing for an aircraft not to fly, I had hoped that low time overall would keep this engine chugging along for many more years.

As I learned, I wasn't looking at the right numbers.

I had the airplane ferried from home base to Baker Air Services in Montana (no relation), and trusted friends and experts Roger and Darin Meggers. As Roger says, sometimes you just need to pull things apart and take a look. That's what he did, and he was aghast. After teardown and inspection, they saw that the crankcase was extensively cracked, and the crankshaft had excessive heat cracking because of dry starts - caused by lack of lubrication from sitting for long periods of time. He had also never seen an engine case so badly cracked from a combination of sitting, running hot, and wear that didn't have a catastrophic failure. In Roger's words, the engine was basically junk.

I was fortunate to have had the 185 thoroughly examined when I did. Much better to find these issues on the ground!

Roger and his team reminded me that an airplane that sits is not a happy airplane.

We often hear about rusty pilots, especially during the past year in the COVID world, but a rusty airplane can be just as troubling.

I took the opportunity to replace the original 285-horsepower Continental IO-520 with a 300-horsepower IO-550 and then added a new Hartzell Voyager propeller especially designed for the 185.

And, of course, some twenty-first-century avionics. The engine was built and honed by Ly-Con Aircraft Engines and now puts out 349 horsepower, according to the dynamometer.

The 185 and went through a rough a eight months. But since May, we've been reunited and haven't been happier. The project was not cheap, but I"m excited to see cruise speeds top 160 knots. And welcome the priceless peace of mind.

What did this journey teach me?

Numbers are just that - numbers. We need context for them. What are they telling us, and what are they not revealing? Low time in an airplane isn't always a good thing; airplanes were meant to fly.

Low time also can mean corrosion, and corrosion often means danger.

Yes, the numbers are important, but they aren't everything. There will always be a place for judgment, observation, and intuition in the cockpit. To borrow an often-used phrase in political circles: Trust, but verify.