Answer: The LSA rule as it stands limits aircraft to a gross weight of 1,320 pounds for land aircraft.

• READ MORE: Pilots Have Questions When It Comes to MOSAIC

Gross weight is determined when the aircraft is certificated. The Cessna 140 GW is 1,450 pounds, and the Cessna 150 is between 1,500 and 1,600 pounds, depending on the year of manufacture. You can take the other seat out and fly partial fuel, and that will make the aircraft lighter, but it won’t change the certificated gross weight.

Understand that the LSA rule is under review with MOSAIC, and if approved as written, will increase the gross weight of aircraft to 3,600 pounds.

When that transpires, many of the single-engine light trainers flown today in the utility and normal category will likely become LSA compliant.

The post Why Aren’t Cessna 140s/150s Considered Light Sport Aircraft? appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

He complained there was something wrong with the airplane. The engine wasn’t producing enough power. He had attempted two takeoffs and wisely chose to abort, as it did not lift off when he expected.

“It pretty much ate up the whole runway!” he said. 

When asked if he had done the performance calculations, specifically accounting for density altitude, he acted like a deer in the headlights. He had not performed the computations because he didn’t think the conditions warranted. The field elevation was approximately 492 feet—certainly not what you would consider high elevation, and the temperature was in the mid-80s Fahrenheit. He was from Arizona, where the temperature routinely topped 100 in the summer, so this was not hot, and it didn’t feel humid out there, at least not by Midwest or Gulf state standards—also places he had been.

“Don’t you need all three to create density altitude?” he asked.

No. No, you don’t.

• READ MORE: The Importance of Embracing Proficiency Culture

He was surprised to learn that a single one of those factors can reduce aircraft performance, which is why those numbers need to be crunched and double-checked before every flight. And I mean every flight.

Of all the skills that go by the wayside after the check ride, determining aircraft performance is right up there next to “obtaining a weather briefing” and “weight and balance.” If you don’t make it a habit to use these skills, they fade—and quickly. I will never forget the private pilot who had her certificate for all of four months yet couldn’t remember how to access a weather report or read a takeoff performance chart and therefore had no idea how long the takeoff roll would be.

Consider what is off the end of the runway as well. If the performance chart says you need 1,120 feet to clear that 50-foot obstacle at the end of the runway, and the runway measures 1,900 feet, ask yourself where could you go if something went wrong? Is there a golf course? An industrial park? A lake? Don’t forget to review the short-field takeoff checklist and review the fine print, especially with regard to leaning the mixture for best power.

Watch the Weight

We can’t control the weather, but we can manage the weight of the aircraft. On warmer days, it is not uncommon to limit the fuel load of an aircraft to adjust for its reduced performance.

Most flight schools that use scheduling software have a place to put notes in the rental reservation where you can leave a remark such as special refueling instructions, such as do not refuel after flight. To be safe you might want to add a Post-it note in the dispatch binder or on it, or a note on a whiteboard in the CFI cubicles can work. This is a belt-and-suspenders and a staple-gun approach, but if your flight school doesn’t have the ability to expediently and safely offload fuel, it can save a flight. 

Don’t forget to note the time to climb in your calculations. It is a bit chilling to have planned for a climb rate of 500 feet per minute to clear a ridgeline but then notice the aircraft is struggling to achieve 300 feet per minute. This is one of those times you will want to fly  a shuttle climb, going back and forth in a confined space.

Protect Pilot Performance

High altitude, heat, and humidity also degrade the performance of a pilot. Most aircraft in the training fleet don’t have the same caliber of environmental controls as modern cars, so pilots, especially flight instructors, have to be creative. (You know it is a hot day at the airport when the CFIs keep the door of the aircraft open during taxi and don’t close it until just before takeoff.)

You can try to work around it by scheduling flights early in the morning or late in the evening but if that is not an option you have to adapt.

• READ MORE: Separation Anxiety: When Your Instructor Moves on, Your Logbook Tells the Story

In the Seattle area, anything over 90 degrees is unusual, and our homes, airplanes, and bodies aren’t used to it. There was one summer where it really got us. I still had to fly, so I scheduled as many of my learners as I could in the cooler part of the day—two before noon and one for when the day began to cool. I had learned that even if I used those products advertised to control sweat and stink and wore a cotton T-shirt under my flight school uniform (a black polo made from a material that nature never knew existed), by midday my shirt was sweat soaked and I felt as though I needed a bath in tomato juice.

I started changing my T-shirt at least twice a day, and when the temperatures reached the 100s, drew upon primacy, drawing upon my days as a teenage girl at slumber parties: I froze my own T-shirt. It’s not quite what we did back in those days, but the principle was sound, and I highly recommend it. Put a clean, dry T-shirt in the freezer overnight. Wear it the next day during the flight. You will be surprised how comfortable it is and how long it stays cool. 

On those hot days, I learned to carry frozen bottles of water in the airplane. Put the bottle in a clean tube sock to absorb the condensation. Sip from the bottle in between maneuvers, and in particular before landing, as dehydration can manifest as fatigue and slow down your reaction time. Also, you can be dehydrated without being thirsty. You may find it useful to take a few sips off water bottles as part of your before-landing checklist, as it increases alertness.

The Difficult Conversation

Using deodorant and daily bathing is not a universal thing. This was explained to me by a colleague who had some bad experiences with learners from other cultures, to the point her flight school added a page on hygiene information to its welcome-to-our-school packets. The CFIs told stories of using air fresheners in the cockpits and classrooms and using lemon-scented polish on the aircraft windows to try to mask the odor.

It is particularly awkward when it is a co-worker who needs the talk. I was forced to do a Redbird training session with a CFI who was a heavy smoker, and frankly smelled like a cross between an ashtray, a latrine, and a skunk. I’d been warned, but that did not do the situation justice. My eyes were watering, and I cut the lesson short—then promptly went to the gym around the corner, showered, and changed my uniform.

I had two more learners that day, and I wanted the focus to be on flying—not fragrance.

This column first appeared in the July/August Issue 949 of the FLYING print edition.

The post How to Beat the Summer Heat When Flying appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

There was no damage or injuries, except for frayed nerves, but as a precaution the school’s chief mechanic took a look at the Cessna 150. Mostly it was done to show the learner that part of being a pilot was being responsible. If you have an unintentional off-runway experience, you have a mechanic inspect the airplane as a precaution. The CFI didn’t think there was any damage as there hadn’t been a prop strike. The chief mechanic confirmed this.

It became a teaching moment for the rest of us CFIs. One of the instructors insisted that the FAA and the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) had to be notified. He then went into a story about “a buddy of his” who had a similar experience and found himself in a great deal of trouble because he didn’t call. There was a group eye roll. Then the Federal Aviation Regulations Aeronautical Information Manual (FAR/AIM) was brought out, and the learners instructed to look up Part 830, which provides guidance on when you need to notify the NTSB and, if need be, the FAA.

When to Call the NTSB

Although going off the runway may seem like high drama when it happens to you, it likely falls under the category of an incident, not an accident, per the definition found in Part 830 of the FAR/AIM. 

• READ MORE: Scaring Yourself into Additional Dual Instruction

According to the definition, aircraft accidents are specifically defined as events that involve a fatality, serious injury, or substantial damage to the aircraft and require NTSB notification.

NTSB 830.5 states that notification must happen if there is damage to property, other than the aircraft, estimated to exceed $25,000 for repair (including materials and labor) or fair market value in the event of total loss, whichever is less. Ding up the wheel pants on the clapped-out, older-than-you-by-20-years Cessna 172, no notification. If the airplane collides with aircraft on the ramp or totals the Lexus sedan parked on the ramp, a call to the NTSB will be in your future.

With the exception of removing wreckage to rescue people or preserve it from further damage, NTSB 830.10 tells us to preserve the wreckage, stating, “the operator of an aircraft involved in an accident or incident for which notification must be given is responsible for preserving to the extent possible any aircraft wreckage, cargo, and mail aboard the aircraft, and all records, including all recording mediums of flight, maintenance, and voice recorders, pertaining to the operation and maintenance of the aircraft and to the airmen until the Board takes custody thereof or a release is granted pursuant to § 831.12(b).”

• READ MORE: Always Look for a Place to Land

Basically, the accident is treated like a crime scene, and evidence should not be disturbed if possible. If not, the original position should be documented. Pictures taken with a smartphone usually suffice.

If the aircraft has sustained substantial damage, and it is obvious it can’t fly, the NTSB asks to be notified. This is when we get into the gray area of “do we need to notify the FAA?” If there are no injuries and only damage to the airplane, probably not.

If you are at a towered airport, the tower operator may notify the FAA, depending on the situation.

The pilot of a freshly restored Stearman learned about this the hard way when he had a wingtip strike during a ground loop. As he taxied his aircraft with a crumpled lower wingtip off the runway, the tower controller asked what happened. The pilot, angry with himself, replied he had his head in anatomically infeasible location. He was understandably upset. It was the Fourth of July, and he had been planning to give rides to people in his plane during a hangar picnic.

• READ MORE: Make Flight Reviews for CFIs Worthwhile

About an half hour later, the airport manager showed up to warn the pilot that the tower operator had notified the FAA, and a sheriff deputy was on his way to take a look at the airplane. None of us had heard of this before. The deputy was not a pilot and told us that he had been called by the FAA. He wasn’t sure why he was there, except that he was asked by the FAA to look at the airplane and talk to the pilot.

The owner of the aircraft, much calmer now, explained he was upset because he had damaged his beautiful airplane, and he regretted being terse with the controller. Fortunately the deputy understood and that was the end of it, with the exception of the aircraft owner ripping off a piece of the torn fabric of the lower wing and giving it to me with the instructions, “Tell your students to pay attention, or bad things can happen!”

I still have that piece of fabric.

The post Knowing When to Call the NTSB appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1967 Cessna 150G.

There are a lot of Cessna 150s and 152s flying today. The sturdy two-seat trainers have been taking students through flight training and check rides for more than 60 years. In that time they have earned a reputation as reliable, economical, no-nonsense aircraft that are suited to several missions beyond training, such as traveling, commuting, and short-field operations.

The airplane for sale here is not your everyday 150, having been modified with a number of upgrades aimed at making it a better bush machine. Changes include taildragger landing gear, wing modifications, and a 150 hp engine like those found in the larger Cessna 172. The engine swap boosts its horsepower by 50 percent compared with a standard 150.

This 1967 150 has 2,066 hours on the airframe and 17 hours on its Lycoming 150 hp O-320-E2D engine. The panel features a Narco Mk-12 Nav/Com, Sport 200 two-place intercom, and Genave Beta 5000 transponder.

Additional equipment includes the Texas Taildragger STC, 150 hp STC, gross weight increase STC, STOL-Craft leading edge and wing tip kit, flap and aileron gap seals, and Patroller doors.     

Pilots looking for a compact STOL airplane, and especially those who like the Cessna 150 but wish it was a taildragger, should consider this modified 1967 model, which is available for $103,900 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Finance. For more information, email info@flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Is It Possible to Legally Fly a Cessna 150 as an LSA?
• FLYING Magazine: Teenager Takes Control of Cessna 150 After Pilot Passes Out
• FLYING Magazine: I Learned About Flying From That: 18,300 Feet in a Cessna 150
• Plane & Pilot: Incredible Plane: Cessna 150
• Plane & Pilot: Quiz Time: Cessna 150
• Plane & Pilot: Stranded Cessna 150 Tries to Take Off from a Sandbar and There’s No Possible Way He Makes It! Unless . . .
• The Aviation Consumer: Cessna 150/152

The post This 1967 Cessna 150 Is a Modified, Tail-Dragging ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

My father got his private certificate when I was a tyke. He logged about 800 hours in his life. He never owned his own airplane, but I grew up around aviation enough to have caught the disease very early. Though he was the one who actually taught me to fly, he was not an instructor. I went through the formality of earning my private certificate in 1983 at the age of 26. I did this at the Grosse Ile Municipal Airport (KONZ) in Michigan, located on an island in the mouth of the Detroit River where it empties into Lake Erie. I always loved flying, but now I was rabid about it.

In those days I was working very long hours, and with a fresh ticket and access to a Cessna 150, I squeezed in flights whenever I could. That involved more night flights than was probably advisable at that point in my experience. But I loved being up at night and my regular routine of flying up the river and around downtown Detroit at 1,000 feet. Taking in the tapestry of lights was always magical and intoxicating.

One night the urge to fly welled up within me, and I headed to the airport where the 150 was tied down outside. Perhaps the most dangerous thing in life, and most certainly in aviation, is that you don’t know what you don’t know. And there were things I needed to know but did not. (Obviously, as I had been stupidly flying around at 1,000 feet at night.) As was a completely ordinary thing in Detroit in the winter, it had snowed. Per my training, I got out the broom and brushed off all the snow from the airframe. But (cue scary music here) there had been a bit of thaw, and under the snow was just a bit of ice. Not much, mind you. It was just a bit of crustiness, so I thought it couldn’t weigh very much. I figured it wasn’t a big deal since it was just me flying with partial fuel in the tanks.. It was a cold, clear, still night. Plenty of lift in this cold air, right? And, dang it, I wanted to fly so badly.

Everything else checked out just fine. I fired up the Continental O-200 and made my way across the big, dark, completely deserted field to the longest runway, did the run-up, lined her up, and shoved in the throttle. All seemed completely normal until I was out of ground effect, maybe 50 feet up. She felt saggy. This thing was not climbing. I was staring ahead into the inky blackness, where I knew a tall stand of pine trees was waiting for me at the north end of the runway. The accident chain instantly marched across my consciousness: inexperience, winter, night, ice, overeagerness, and drag, you idiot! I had stacked the deck against myself, and it was all going to end in those trees in a few seconds. There was really no better option than straight ahead, so I uttered a short prayer and waited for the impact.

It didn’t come. In the pitch darkness, I held the attitude indicator where I thought it should be and realized from the altimeter reading that I must have cleared the trees. I was soon high enough to have visual reference from the lights on the ground to the north. All I could think of was “climb.” The little 150 ponderously clawed its way up, while the altimeter moved at about the pace of hands on a clock. I eventually got up to a couple thousand feet and realized with terror that I was at that moment a test pilot in an unknown machine. I had no idea how to get it back down safely. I decided I needed to find out what the stall speed was with this stuff on the wings, so I would know what approach speed to use to avoid falling out of the sky. I decided I had enough drag already, so flaps probably would not be a good idea. I slowed down with my eyes on the airspeed indicator and waited for the break. To my surprise, the stall occurred at about the same speed it would normally. OK, I guess I’ll approach at the normal speed. I got her back to the field and lined up.

• READ MORE: Life Lessons of an Iced-Up Mooney

Grosse Ile airport is basically surrounded by water, and going in there on a moonless night one cannot see the surrounding trees. The runway lights are all you’ve got. It was a scary ride down the hill, and I carried a little extra speed anyway. At first, all seemed normal, but then almost too late, I realized that stalling wasn’t going to be my problem. This thing was coming down like a brick. The sink rate registered on my brain, and I firewalled the throttle, once again terrified that I was going to settle right down into those pine trees. The O-200 roared (like a mouse in a lion suit), and the laden little 150 somehow lumbered over the unseen treetops. I kept full throttle until I was just over the pavement. Fortunately, the runway was plenty long and I settled in smoothly. It was over, except my heart was about to pound its way out of my chest.

I vowed right then and there to never again fly any airplane with even a hint of anything on the wings. But perhaps even more importantly, I came away from that near miss with a constant question on my mind for any situation: What about this do I not know? Finding the answer is well worth any time and effort it takes. This has served me well in airplanes and in many other areas, such as just getting along with people.

This feature first appeared in the November 2023/Issue 943 of FLYING’s print edition.

The post Ice on the Wings Brings About a Near-Miss Episode appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1979 Beechcraft 77 Skipper.

By the 1970s, when Beechcraft began developing its new trainer, a generation of pilots had trained for their private certificates in Cessna 150s. While the diminutive, utilitarian Cessna has become a classic, those who flew it are well aware of its shortcomings, such as its cramped cabin and poor outward visibility at certain angles. Beechcraft took advantage of that pool of knowledge by surveying pilots who flew 150s and asking them what they would change to make the aircraft better.

The Skipper reflects the results of Beechcraft’s market research. Its low wing eliminates the overhead blind spots that many pilots complained about with the 150, and its bubble-shaped cockpit with large windows aided overall visibility. Beechcraft also made an effort to give the airplane a solid, high-quality feel with chunky control yokes and other features that eliminate the sense of flimsiness common in some other trainers.

Unfortunately, the Skipper arrived on the market only a couple of years before the long general aviation downturn began. Beechcraft turned out just over 300 Skippers before halting production in 1981, making this a rare but appealing bird.

This Beechcraft Skipper has 2,370 hours on the airframe and 250 hours on the engine. The basic panel includes a skyBeacon ADS-B.

Pilots interested in an economical two-seat aircraft with a roomy cabin for training, commuting, traveling, or building time should consider this 1979 Beechcraft 77 Skipper, which is available for $69,500 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Finance. For more information, email info@flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: The Increasingly Rare Pleasure of the Beechcraft Skipper
• FLYING Magazine: Aftermarket Stars Part 2: Great Used Planes for Less
• Plane & Pilot: Piper Tomahawk

The post This 1979 Beechcraft 77 Skipper Is a Rare, Roomy ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1972 Cessna 150L.

A friend at my home airport said he flies a Cessna 150 because it carries him and his girlfriend on the day trips they enjoy, is extremely economical to operate, and is faster than the 1940s Aeronca Champ he owned previously. A career fisherman in Maine whom I have known for many years used a 150 for fish spotting because it was “the cheapest way to get airborne.” Another friend owned one while he built time for his instrument and commercial ratings, and for the insurance company’s requirements.

These anecdotes are testimony to how versatile the 150 can be. It’s a wonderful trainer, but I think it is really more of a personal airplane for solo flying or getaways with that one special person for whom you feel great affection. You are almost certain to rub shoulders with your passenger in its snug cabin. It is not a particularly fast airplane, but it can still get you to distant destinations much sooner than you would arrive in the car.  

This 1972 Cessna 150L has 5,795 hours on the airframe and 275 hours on its Continental O-200A engine and McCauley propeller. The panel includes a Garmin Aera 660 touchscreen GPS, Garmin 335 ADS-B capable transponder, and VAL digital com. Additional equipment and features include a Zeftronics voltage regulator, auto gas STC, and oil pan heater. Useful load is 505 pounds.

Pilots looking for a rugged, reliable, and economical personal aircraft for commuting, training, time-building or travel should consider this 1972 Cessna 150L, which is available for $42,000 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Finance. For more information, email info@flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Is It Possible to Legally Fly a Cessna 150 as an LSA?
• FLYING Magazine: Teenager Takes Control of Cessna 150 After Pilot Passes Out
• Plane & Pilot: Incredible Plane: Cessna 150
• Plane & Pilot: Quiz Time: Cessna 150
• Plane & Pilot: Lessons Learned: High Desert Flying In A Cessna 150
• The Aviation Consumer: Cessna 150/152

The post This 1972 Cessna 150L Is a Rugged, Versatile ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Looking back now, it dawns on me that most of what I know today did not come from the normal, required syllabus training but from life experiences, along with an occasional hair-raising event, one of which I can finally share.

Like many pilots, most of my private pilot training took place in a two-place Cessna. My CFI actually weighed a morbidly obese 350 pounds and was in his upper 60s. Were we always overloaded upon takeoff? No, because being a hard-working, skinny, 25-year-old, I carried maybe 120 pounds. My first solo, however, gave me a startling surprise, though, when the Cessna 150 trainer shot up so rapidly…I had just shedded 350 pounds and struggled to acquire the new, lighter “feel.”

Transitioning from a lighter to a heavier single is a process we learn largely on our own without much training. Check rides are a helpful measure of safety and highly recommended. The larger the aircraft, the heavier the controls, and while often more stable, it is always different. Moving up to more advanced aircraft enhances our joy of flying. Plus, the heavier the airplane, the more sophisticated it often is. Constant-speed prop, retractable gear, etc. Even more challenging are those “category/class” transitions (seaplane, twin-engine, etc.) that take us to the next level.

By the time I had accrued some 140 total flight hours, a friend mentioned that his wife and her sister were returning home from a trip back east. It was late June. To save them the expense of a night’s lodging in Dallas, I agreed to fly to Love Field (KDAL) and fly them back to the now long-abandoned Butterfield Trail Airport just north of Abilene. I had never met the two passengers-to-be, but Phil, a nonpilot, was a fit, lean, future Navy sailor who spoke often of his active wife and sister-in-law. I was ready to log some additional quality time in my flying club’s Cessna Skyhawk 172 (N3707R).

At this point, I had been checked out in the club’s Cessna 182 Skylane and its mighty 210 Centurion, but I didn’t see the need for a larger, more expensive option. Now I was in for a gut-wrenching surprise. My lack of experience caused me to select an aircraft unsuitable for the flight.

The flight to KDAL with Phil was pleasant and uneventful, and I anticipated the return flight would be equally smooth. Love Field was Dallas’ primary airport in 1967, and there was no delay entering its airspace and getting taxi clearance to the general aviation area. We did not wait long at the GA terminal for our passengers to arrive.

What I felt when first meeting Tillie and her sister, Emma, was a sense of astonished shock. These women were not obese. They were, well…ladies of significant size. And they each had a fairly large, old-style heavy suitcase. I’m sure I silently gasped when I realized suddenly that our little Skyhawk was destined to be dramatically overweight. Overweight, that is, if we could even fit them into the rear seats with their bags. We were going to be massively overloaded and probably out of balance. Should I tell my passengers, “No, I’m sorry. We cannot do this”? Should I warn them of the risk?

As a weight/balance experiment with satchels of bowling balls, I had once safely “test-flown” a friend’s Skylane while being perhaps several hundred pounds over the maximum takeoff weight. Perhaps somehow by having completed this ill-advised and unauthorized experiment, it validated my faulty decision to proceed.

Even if we could shoehorn the passengers and baggage in, I knew we might have to abort. The Skyhawk baggage area was about 90 pounds maximum, but the space was too small to accommodate a large suitcase. We discovered that we could partially squeeze one into this minuscule space, thereby sacrificing a good deal of headroom. The other bag would just have to ride on their laps. Very uncomfortable, but it was only for an hour and a half. At this point, I was just concerned whether we could get airborne.

The weather briefing confirmed widely scattered showers with hot, very humid conditions, and calm winds. Not helpful conditions, to be sure, with high density altitude in effect.

• READ MORE: A Wing and a Prayer

I taxied to Runway 18, 8,000 feet in length, as I recall. The tower said, “Cleared for takeoff. Right turnout approved.” We started our takeoff roll. And we rolled. I was ready to abort if necessary. We kept rolling.

Not expecting to use more than about 4,000 feet, but already passing that halfway point, I became aware that we might not be airborne anytime soon. But lots of pavement still remained. Finally, though, our speed was sufficient and we lifted off, albeit very slowly. But what is this? We weren’t climbing! If anything, we were just mushing along. And we’re running out of runway!

Clearing the fence and crossing Mockingbird Lane, we couldn’t have been more than 50 feet above passing buildings. Any additional problem at this height could have been catastrophic.

Some 20 minutes later, we were level at 6,500 feet msl. Reaching the cooler altitude made things easier. My passengers were silent but likely aware that we had just been given a free pass by the powers that be. We were grateful for our good fortune.

But the day was summed up with some valuable lessons subtly delivered and taken to heart. First, I learned to never assume your passengers will weigh the average standard of 170 pounds, as it was then. Don’t be reticent about asking their weight and baggage sizes. Second, know your aircraft’s capacities. It might be helpful someday to know your storage area dimensions. Finally, and perhaps most redundantly, always be prepared to cancel your plans, even if that means unhappy passengers and a bruised ego and wallet.

This column first appeared in the September 2023/Issue 941 of FLYING’s print edition.

The post Weight, Weight, Don’t Tell Me appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1975 Beechcraft A24R Sierra.

When pilots get together for long chats, the conversation often turns to training experiences, including the airplanes in which they took their check rides before receiving private pilot certificates. There are Cessna people who trained in 150s and 172s, and Piper people who trained in PA-28s. But there is a third group whose primary training came in fixed-gear Beechcrafts like the Musketeer and Sundowner, which are close relatives of the more advanced A24R Sierra for sale here.

To compete with the likes of Piper’s Arrow and Cessna’s retractable 172s and 177s, Beechcraft improved its basic trainer airframe with more power, retractable gear, and a constant-speed propeller. The changes gave the aircraft extra speed, carrying capacity, and overall utility. Fans of the model point to its roomy cabin and build quality that set it apart from some competing models. The Sierra is known for details such as extra space for six seats and trailing-link landing gear that help smooth out landings. It also sits impressively high on the ramp.

This 1975 Sierra has 4,143 hours on the airframe and 1,620 hours on the engine. Its IFR-certified panel includes a Garmin GTN 650, dual Garmin G5s, a GTX 330 ADS-B transponder, GMA 340 audio panel, Century II autopilot, JPI 700 engine monitor, and King KX 170B nav/com. Paint and interior are original.

Pilots looking to step up to a roomy, economical, four-seat retractable for faster-paced personal or family travel, or to build time in a complex aircraft, should consider this 1975 Beechcraft A24R Sierra, which  is available for $119,000 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Financial Group. For more information, email info@flyingfinancial.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Approachable Aircraft: Beech Sundowner and Musketeer
• FLYING Magazine: Looking Beyond a Pre-Purchase Checklist
• Plane & Pilot: Beechcraft 1977 C24R Sierra 200

The post Today’s Top Aircraft For Sale Pick: 1975 Beechcraft A24R Sierra appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

The 2004 rule also didn’t require the additional cost of an aviation medical certificate, which might encourage more people to seek training to earn their certificates. Whether or not it went that way is in the eye of the beholder.

• READ MORE: FAA Releases MOSAIC Preview for Light Sport Aircraft

The Active Civil Airmen Statistics published by the FAA note that out of a total of  756,928 pilot certificates on file, 6,597 are held by sport pilots, compared to 164,090 by private pilots. It is unknown how many aviators started as sport pilots then “upgraded” to private pilot certificates.

In the approximately 19 years since the sport pilot rule was enacted, there has been almost a steady stream of discussion from pilots asking for the weight limit of 1,320 pounds to be increased to allow them to fly their light training aircraft with a sport certificate. If this notice of proposed rulemaking (NPRM) is approved, that may happen, with the FAA’s blessing.

According to the agency, the proposed Modernization of Special Airworthiness Certification (MOSAIC) rule is designed to “enhance the safety and performance of light sport aircraft operations.”

Added David Boulter, acting FAA associate administrator for safety: “This rule will encourage manufacturers to make light sport aircraft operations safer, more versatile and accessible while maintaining rigorous safety standards.”

According to the FAA, the aircraft’s weight limit is based on its stall speed. By permitting higher stall speeds, the proposal would bring within the light sport aircraft regulatory framework aircraft weighing as much as 3,000 pounds. This more than doubles the weight of aircraft under the current definition of light sport of 1,320 pounds, allowing larger and stronger aircraft to qualify.

• READ MORE: What This MOSAIC Preview Means

If the NPRM transitions to an official rule, several of the aircraft that currently make up the training fleet could be legally flown with a sport pilot certificate, including the Diamond DA40, Cessna 150 and 152, the Cessna 172, and several single-engine piston Piper models. Potentially, this could increase rental opportunities for holders of sport pilot certificates and increase revenue at flight schools.

“The proposal would also expand the type of aircraft sport pilots can operate and allow them to use their aircraft for a wider range of operations such as some aerial work,” the FAA noted. “Although sport pilots could operate aircraft designed with up to four seats, they would remain limited to operating with only one passenger.”

FLYING reached out to the National Association of Flight Instructors (NAFI) and Society of Aviation and Flight Educators (SAFE) for their takes on the NPRM.

David St. George, director of SAFE, noted after reading the NPRM that it is obvious a great deal of time and energy went into drafting the proposal.

• READ MORE: How to Comment on a Proposed FAA Policy

“SAFE supports this carefully crafted FAA proposal as a creative method to expand the availability of modern, safe, (and increasingly capable) aircraft to a wider audience of pilots,” St. George said. “SAFE also respects the FAA’s trust in our professional flight instructors to safely extend these new flight privileges to current and future sport pilots within this new performance-based standard.”

St. George also pointed out the rule could potentially increase the number of instructors in the aviation world as sport pilot instructors can qualify with 150 hours of pilot-in-command (PIC) time.

NAFI did not respond to FLYING’s request for comment by press time.

The public has 90 days to comment on the proposed rule once it is published in the Federal Register. The FAA will publish a final rule and respond to comments after that  period closes.

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