If you have been following the saga of older single-pilot jet pilots, you know the insurance industry has tightened the financial noose so as to make such exhilarating fun impractical. Such was the case that my wife, Cathy, and I were forced to sell our Cessna Citation CJ1, the jet that fit us like a familiar sports car.
This loss prompted an attenuated version of the five stages of grief. First off came denial. Surely there was an insurance company that wasn’t so rapacious—it just had to be discovered. Next came anger. Am I any less capable today than yesterday? Then bargaining: Can’t I take frequent check rides to assess competency? Luckily, we skipped the depression component and found ourselves washed up on the shores of acceptance.
