Long family trips for our sons’ far-flung sporting events, and a drawn-out move across several states to a new home combined over the past year to put me behind the wheel of the car more often than at the controls of an airplane. Still, as always, I spent much of my driving time thinking about flying. Mostly I considered how much sooner we would arrive at our destination if only we were airborne.
Flying from our old home in New Jersey to the new one in Vermont in Annie, our 1992 Commander 114B, takes less than two hours compared with at least five and a half in the car, avoiding all but the most necessary rest stops. From Vermont to Geneva, New York, to visit our younger son at school takes about an hour and 45 minutes versus seven hours driving. Vermont to Deer Isle, Maine, a favorite escape, is a shade over an hour in the airplane compared with a meandering five and a half hours behind the wheel—nearly all on backroads.
