At the time I experienced this tale, I had maybe 400 hours total time, along with an instrument rating. I had been renting airplanes from FBOs but was finding my choices—mainly trainers—plus scheduling and weekend minimums weren’t aligned with my growing desires. I needed something faster, with longer legs and fewer hassles. So I anted up to join a local commercial flying club and got checked out in their flagship airplane, a Cessna T210 Turbo Centurion. It had a lot of bells and whistles, including an autopilot for long flights, a Stormscope for thunderstorm avoidance and an IFR-legal GPS for approaches. Life was good.
There wasn’t much to the checkout flight. The CFI and I went out and did some stalls, steep turns and several touch-and-go landings, along with an emergency landing gear extension. Back at the FBO, we chatted about the airplane’s systems, including the turbocharging, and went through the emergency procedures we hadn’t practiced. I had extensive experience with almost all of Cessna’s tricycle-gear singles at that time, so neither its systems nor handling traits were new to me. With a flourish, the CFI signed off the club’s paperwork, endorsed my logbook and was out the door.
