{"id":199287,"date":"2024-03-27T12:56:08","date_gmt":"2024-03-27T16:56:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.flyingmag.com\/?p=199287"},"modified":"2024-03-27T12:56:13","modified_gmt":"2024-03-27T16:56:13","slug":"when-its-better-to-have-it-and-not-need-it","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.flyingmag.com\/when-its-better-to-have-it-and-not-need-it\/","title":{"rendered":"When It’s Better to Have It and Not Need It"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Growing up, my progression of automobile ownership was perhaps not unlike that of many other kids in blue-collar families of the 1990s. Upon turning 16 and earning your license, you save your meager funds, and you take what you can get. In my case, what I could get was my grandparents\u2019 well-worn Oldsmobile sedan, resplendent with red velour interior, pointy spoked hubcaps, and a vibrant colony of electrical gremlins that regularly caused me to become stranded on the side of the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Knowing that I was fortunate to have a car at all and understanding that complaining would in no way reduce the frequency of breakdowns, I rolled with it, ultimately developing a creative solution. I\u2019d simply remove both of my bike\u2019s wheels and keep it stored in the trunk. It was better to have it and not need it than the other way around, I reasoned. And sure enough, about once a week, I\u2019d leave the dead Oldsmobile on the shoulder of the road and deploy my auxiliary bicycle to reach my destination more or less on time. As I recall, the car would magically start back up after sitting for most of the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Since then, that \u201cbetter to have it and not need it\u201d philosophy has served me well, even extending to aircraft ownership. It first emerged early in my shopping process when I was narrowing my choices to just a few models.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After earning my tailwheel endorsement in an old Cessna 140, I initially decided that it or its flapless twin, the 120, would be the type for me. The familiar Cessna yoke and handling put me at ease, as did the docile yet engaging takeoff and landing qualities. Parts and qualified service were easily sourced, and the small C85, C90, and O-200 engines all promised low fuel burns and economical operation. Best of all, the acquisition cost of these types was among the lowest out there. The choice seemed obvious, with few, if any, drawbacks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I looked into useful load. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a resident of Wisconsin, where cheese is as much a lifestyle as a food item and where the long winters make a convincing argument for staying indoors and enjoying said cheese, I, unfortunately, adopted certain physical attributes championed by the general population. Namely, width and weight. Neither is very compatible with 1940s-era light aircraft.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If Cessna had converted the 140 into a mini-Bird Dog, with tandem seating in place of the side-by-side bench seat, things would be significantly more comfy. Luscombe did precisely this with its T8F Observer<\/a>. But, firmly sold on the early Cessnas, I was faced with the decision of cramming myself into either the small 120 or 140 or saving my pennies for years to enable an upgrade to the larger and more capable 170.<\/p>\n\n\n\n