This past weekend I called upon a friend (who happens to be a private pilot working toward his instrument rating) and invited him to join me for a late afternoon leisure flight in the Remos G3. He would be my third passenger since certification. Admittedly, it’s more fun for me to have someone along so I always have my passenger radar on, but I’ve also tasked myself with sharing this great experience with others whenever possible. With this particular friend it also meant a chance for me to debunk a myth or two among some pilots about light-sport aircraft. My guess was that he was one of those in the aviation community who don’t give LSA the time of day. Maybe it’s a snap judgment on my part, but it seems like many who gain their wings as adults at conventional flight training schools and airports without any outside influence (Read: didn’t have the good fortune of growing up around taildraggers and country airstrips) tend to lack the appreciation for stick and rudder flying of the smaller airplanes. LSA, tricycle or taildragger, offer just that.
Sure enough, on the drive out to the airport he shared with me that he did have some skepticism about LSAs, but it was a beautiful day to go flying no matter and he was excited. And it was gorgeous. Sky clear. 70 degrees F. I wanted him to have the full experience of my kind of local flying so the first thing I made sure to do after preflight was to take the doors off the Remos (Note: I prepared him by suggesting that he both wear long pants and bring along a jacket … the usual shorts and top would not suffice like they did last weekend — hints of a Florida Winter were upon us!). Now, I’ve known my friend for more than 25 years and I was betting that he would get an unexpected kick out of the stick and rudder recreational flying at 1,500 or so feet above the quiet farmland and along the calm lakefront just west of the uncontrolled airport.
