A Time for Patriots

“ ‘Normally aspirated piston engine’? ‘One hundred and forty knots’?” Jon Masters asked incredulously. “Who uses piston engines anymore? It runs on avgas? I didn’t think there were any planes that ran on avgas anymore! And I have unmanned aircraft I can carry in a backpack that can fly twice as fast!”

“The 182 is a good aircraft for the mission, Uncle Jon: good-weather, short-range, short-endurance, low-altitude, low-speed search-and-rescue, flown by civilian volunteers,” Brad said. “We have other planes that fly other missions. The Civil Air Patrol is the largest single operator of 182s in the world, with a fleet of more than five hundred.”

“A fleet of dinosaurs, if you ask me,” Jon said. “The plane is almost thirty years old!”

“They’re introducing newer planes into the fleet as the older ones reach a certain airframe time limit,” Brad said. “We were slated to get a glass-cockpit turbo 182 this year. That was canceled because of the economy and all the cutbacks. Maybe we’ll get it when the recession is over.”

“Or maybe get something better,” Jon mused.

“There’s nothing better than a trusty 182—maybe a turbo 182 with a glass cockpit,” Brad said. He unlocked the pilot’s-side door, then opened the passenger-side door from inside. “We still use the original instruments.”

“Holy cats — I’ll say you do!” Jon exclaimed, his eyes wide in wonder as he scanned the faded Royalite plastic instrument panel. “I can’t remember the last time I saw round steam gauges!” He pointed at the GPS device. “Jeez, that GPS manufacturer hasn’t been in business in fifteen years! And… and is that an FM simplex radio?”

“The radio operates both in simplex and repeater functions,” Brad explained. “CAP operates about five hundred repeater stations around the country to provide communications over a wide area, hostile terrain, or when conventional communications like telephone and the Internet are knocked out.”

“Wow — I didn’t realize you guys did what you do with such… outdated stuff,” Jon exclaimed. “I guess your major tool is the old Mark One eyeball, eh?”

“We have a Gippsland GA-8 with the ARCHER hyperspectral sensor — that’s probably the most high-tech plane in the fleet,” Brad said. “Back in the Vegas squadron they were able to send digital photos from the planes via satellite, but we don’t do that here.”

“It would be easy enough to do,” Jon mused again. Brad could always tell when his uncle’s mind began working a problem, same as his dad: they got this faraway look, as if they were looking through the earth back onto their lab bench or computer, already experimenting and planning. “The transceiver weighs less than a sack lunch. You could even do two-way voice, data, and text.”

“That would be cool,” Ralph said.

“Look at that — vacuum-powered gyroscopic gauges… a wet compass… carburetor heat… my God, an L-Tronics Model LA direction finder,” Jon muttered in disbelief. “Those were built in Santa Barbara, California, by hand practically by one guy, years ago. He was my hero. The guy literally transformed the nation with his gadgets.”

“Most of the time the stuff works pretty well,” Brad said. “And the plane flies great.”

“You’ve flown it?”

“You bet I did,” Brad said. “Ralph too. Every CAP cadet gets five powered and five glider orientation rides. It’s part of CAP’s aerospace education program. We’re not allowed to do takeoffs and landings in CAP airplanes, but I’ve done steep turns, stalls, and slow flight.”

“I didn’t realize the Civil Air Patrol did all that stuff with these planes,” Jon said. “Actually, I never thought about it. So when do you get to pilot one of these hot rods, Brad?”

“Not for a while,” Brad said. “I’ll train to be a mission scanner, get two supervised flights, then train to be a mission observer. Meanwhile, I have to get my private pilot’s license and get a hundred and fifty hours of pilot-in-command time. Then I can train to take a CAP Form 5 check ride, which is like an annual flight review. Once I pass that, I get two supervised flights in the left seat with a crew, followed by a CAP Form 91 evaluation.”

“Sheesh, it sounds worse than the Air Force,” Jon remarked. “They really make you jump through some hoops, don’t they?”

“I’ll be flying two other crewmembers in an Air Force airplane on an Air Force — assigned mission — they want us up to speed,” Brad said. “I don’t think it’s jumping through hoops at all.”

“You sound just like your dad — who, speak of the devil, here he is now.” Jon shook hands with Patrick as he walked up to the Cessna. “Brad was showing me his high-tech piece of machinery here. Are you sure flying one of these isn’t taxing your aging flying skills too much?”

“Jon, even you could pilot one of these,” Patrick said with a smile. “How are you, Ralph?”

“Fine, sir. Brad was helping me with some reading.”

“Good for you, Brad. How’s Jeremy doing?”

“Released from the hospital to his grandparents in Sparks, sir,” Ralph said. Patrick knew the boy would know the details. “He’s doing fine and has asked about joining the CAP.”