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I have a confession to make. Over the last several months, I have committed several aviation sins. I once went on a flight without checking the weather. I recently departed without calculating my takeoff distance or obstacle clearance. On more than one occasion, I landed from a non–“stable approach,” being both below and above target approach speeds. I’ve flown non-standard traffic patterns. I’ve flown outside the glide range to the nearest airport. I’ve even flown without talking to ATC or filing a flight plan.
And there are many more “sins” I’m probably forgetting.
I call them sins because of the tone of many flying podcasts and articles I’ve come across. Maybe I haven’t found the right sources, but there’s just not much discussion about the fun of flying. Most of what I hear or read makes flying feel like a mechanical chore. I’ve even heard it described as a math problem to be solved.
Really? Is that the only way to view flying now?
The idea of heading to the airport, doing a thorough preflight, and going for the equivalent of a Sunday drive doesn’t seem to get much airtime. Personally, I’d like to be a proponent of flying just for the joy of it.
Every one of these “sins” occurred while flying a Cub, VFR, in the local area. My after-work therapy is to hop in the plane and fly around, soaking in the scenery. It’s cheaper—and more fun—than years of psychotherapy. My mission is nothing more than to enjoy the wonder and mystery of flight.
I’m an older guy, but I still love flying. I just enjoy droning along, watching the world pass under the wing. I’d fly every day if I could.
There’s a flight from my airport over Beaver Lake that I’ve done more times than I can count. In the Cub, it’s about an hour round trip from KASG to the Beaver Lake Dam and back. It’s my favorite way to relax after work. And no matter how many times I do that flight, there’s always something new to see.
Maybe my attitude toward these flights is wrong. Should I treat every VFR hop like I’m departing into low IMC with a 10,000-foot density altitude at max gross weight? Do I need to spend hours on ForeFlight before every local flight? Do I have to be within ±1 knot and ±10 feet on every approach?
Based on the podcasts and articles I consume, maybe I should. But viewing every flight as a math problem tends to keep your head inside the cockpit—and it drains some of the fun. Can’t flying sometimes be more like a blank canvas than a checklist?
I’m not arguing against safety, and I don’t want to provoke anyone. That’s not the point.
I fly cross-country often, and for those trips I plan thoroughly—weather analysis, performance calculations, forecasts for winds, icing, turbulence, the works. I fly pitch, power, and airspeed on instrument approaches. I do weight and balance calculations when appropriate.
But on a beautiful VFR day, is it OK to go for a flight to nowhere—and not feel like a substandard pilot?
I suppose it’s natural that so much of aviation content focuses on mechanics, systems, and career goals. But if that’s the only narrative, we risk losing our sense of wonder.
It’s only been a little more than 100 years since humans first flew. Has it really become so routine that the joy of flight has faded? I hope not.
Yet many friends of mine who fly corporate—and beyond—don’t enjoy GA flying anymore. Some don’t enjoy flying at all. Maybe if early flight training had included more emphasis on flying just for fun, there would be more joy left later in life.
If your flying has become nothing more than an equation to solve, I encourage you to try something different.
Find a simple airplane. If you need a CFI for currency, seek out an old salty instructor who just loves to fly. Head to the airport on a clear-and-a-million day. Do a solid preflight. Make sure you’re legal and safe—no TFR busts, plenty of fuel, and a sound airplane.
Then take off. Pick a direction. Go fly for a while. You might rediscover that sense of awe—and you might just have a little fun.
No post-flight confessions necessary.
- Mea Culpa: Confessions of a Joyful Pilot - July 9, 2025
- A Different Kind of Pilot Decision—Choosing Not to Fly - May 28, 2025
- Friday Photo: T-6 Low Pass at a Regional Fly-In - May 16, 2025
I too listen to many podcasts and YouTube videos that discuss flight safety, but I’ve never felt discouraged to take the joy out of flying as you have. You don’t necessarily HAVE to check take-off performance every flight, especially if you have a great deal of experience in type. But almost every accident I’ve heard/read about where take-off performance was a factor involved a pilot NOT checking performance, or doing it incorrectly. Of course you can recover and land safely from an unstable approach, but just about every landing accident I’ve heard/read about followed an unstable approach.
Having a great deal of experience in a particular aircraft allows a pilot to increase their personal minimums, but that doesn’t mean there are NO minimums. I suspect if you flew an unstable approach to the point you believed you were unable to make a safe landing you would go around. The point is you have enough experience to know how far outside the normal stable approach envelope you can go. Those who lack your experience have nothing on which to base such judgement; for them, following standard stable approach guidelines is the best way to avoid disaster.
Personally, I don’t view abiding recommended and/or personal minimums as limiting my joy of flying in any way. If anything, setting and sticking to minimums reduces the likelihood of an incident/accident and, therefore, stress. This makes flying even more fun for me, especially if I’m carrying passengers.
All good points Mark. No doubt, the podcast and articles base their discussions on what is happening out there. But, flying is much more than a math equation. I truly heard someone on a podcast say that you can turn flying into a mathematical problem to solve. You can fly well within a safety envelope, and still have a lot of fun. While I think 4 large people in a 172 on a hot summer day better run the numbers before they take off, one pilot in a super cub doesn’t need to be shamed if they didn’t check the exact DA. Does every 172 need to fly every approach to a 4 mile final to make sure the plane is on an exact glide path on an exact speed? Sometimes, you can turn off ForeFlight, the calculator, and just go fly. But, I agree, make sure you have the knowledge and ability to know when its appropriate.