Veritastech Pilot Academy

Surviving the Turbulence of Time

Did I really say aging aviators? No, I’m not ready to quit, but it occasionally “niggles” at the back of my mind. 

It’s been sad to watch so many pilot friends lose that certain zest for life despite being physically able to fly. Their trips to the airport become increasingly less frequent, and the camaraderie they shared with other pilots becomes a memory. It’s much more than just giving up keeping an airplane but a drastic life-changing event.

Surely, the most common reason for hanging it up is medical. Modern medicine has devised wonderful ways of extending lives by handling cardiac issues, cancers, diabetes, etc. But any pilot who’s been through the process of waiting for an FAA review of a special issuance medical knows frustration. And even if you’re successful, recurring tests are often required, adding expense and time. Finally, you decide the hoops you’re jumping through and the money you’re spending to keep your pilot privileges just isn’t worth it. 

I guess we all know of “unmedical’d” pilots who just take their chances and keep flying. I’d deny it if I were ever accused of having told a pilot friend in that situation that, in the event of an accident, to be sure he killed himself.

Others seem to accept the “it’s time…” gracefully. I think of the retired corporate pilot who survived a medical problem and kept flying. He sold me his Cessna 180 after (I think) he scared himself while on a long, last solo flight through the Southwest. He knew I’d been drooling over this 1956-era airplane forever. Despite a lack of updates and maintenance that was less than ideal, it still was and is a beautiful and sturdy old bird.

You know the basics about aging pilots—professional ones as well as we who’ve been instructors or flown ourselves and friends for a lifetime.

The Mayo Clinic says most people realize your actual age is called biological age, while chronological age is the number of years you have been alive. Biological age reflects how your body is functioning, while chronological age is a linear count of time since birth. Biological age is influenced by lifestyle, genetics, and environmental factors, which can make it higher or lower than your chronological age. So, there are still quite active 85-year-old pilots and 60-year-olds who hung up their helmets and goggles (but never those leather jackets) years ago.

Statistics show that the number of accidents increases for pilots beginning at 55 and older. But consider that most older adults have more free time and disposable income, so the increase may be explained by how often they fly. On the other hand, the decades of experience that most older pilots have will probably offset the increase in their reaction times and other skills.

A big factor is that as we age and cope with a possibly reduced retirement income, the tremendous inflationary cost of maintaining and flying an airplane is a problem as well as the increasing difficulty (sometimes impossibility) in finding and paying for insurance. If it reaches the point where it’s too much to handle, we’re sadly grounded by economics beyond our control. And when you’re forced to part with your airplane for any reason, a huge part of your life and lifelong love is gone.

As an FAA inspector I witnessed several unfortunate events probably caused, related to, or exacerbated by the effects of aging. 

As I was putting the Cessna 180 to bed one dark night, I heard a bang and a crunch on the approach end of the runway near my hangar. The clubhouse of a group of pilots is nearby, and it was their “well-lubricated” meeting night. 

I saw some running out to where a club member’s Cessna 182 was sitting with two men and two kids climbing out. I called the control tower and told them there seemed to be no injuries, and the airplane could be towed or pushed off the runway with manpower. They OK’d my request to drive out and update them when I found out what had happened. I told them there was no debris or need to close the runway since the airplane would soon be pushed off by friends into his T-hangar.

As I looked at the 182, it appeared there was nosewheel and prop damage but noticed some suspicious “waves” in the cowling indicating structural damage and, therefore, officially an “accident.” These guys were my friends, and my coincidental presence late that evening didn’t make me too popular.

I made a few phone calls to the National Transportation Safety Board and my boss with the details. While friends walked the airplane to his hangar, the elderly pilot agreed to come with me up the road to the Flight Standards District Office so I could gather some preliminary information. He’d made a very bad final approach and stubbed the nosewheel on the approach rim of the runway, bending and damaging the nosewheel, prop, and who knew what else. But it was fortunate that no one (a guy in the right seat and two kids in back) had been hurt. 

When he fished out his wallet with license and medical, it was bad and sad. His medical had been denied for a heart issue. He was waiting to hear from the FAA after the usual back-and-forth process of submitting required tests. It was no problem, he assured me, because the guy in the right seat was a legal PIC. When I inquired, the guy in the right seat told me he most definitely was not the PIC.

I would deal with more than a few “no-medical” flying pilots, including a longtime crop duster in Illinois who had never had a medical. Others were aged pilots who landed at the airport (one for a reexamination flight test) but couldn’t understand the tower and wandered all over the field. Another one’s confusion, exacerbated by deafness, was solved by installing a modern radio and wearing a headset. 

The saddest for me was a friend (who saved my life) who overcame
alcoholism and drastic cancer surgery. He eventually got his FAA medical back and flew a Turbo Commander for years. Frank was brilliant, but I noticed progressively ominous signs and talked to his family. The diagnosis was Alzheimer’s disease. 

Basic steps for staying airborne: ongoing training with a knowledgeable pilot or CFI; knowing your limits; modifying missions with shorter cross-country flights; avoiding flights into busy airspace and weather; using portable oxygen at night; and having an able copilot, especially in IFR conditions.


This column first appeared in the January Issue 966 of the FLYING print edition.

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