Chapter 47: Jet Rated

In late-February, Kim and I were back in Orlando for a week with David Serrow to finish up our training to fly the Challenger 350. We’d each amassed thirty hours of ‘flying’ time in the jet, but all simulator. We’d been turned loose on our jet. We also realized that we should do some quarterly recurrent training in the plane, so set up a calendar with him for those shorter events.

We’d worked through every conceivable major problem with the plane as part of the training: bird strikes, engine failures, landing gear failures, depressurization, emergency descents, faulty instruments, severe crosswinds on landing, go-arounds, missed approaches, collision avoidance maneuvers, contaminated fuel, impaired or disabled co-pilot or pilot, and every adverse weather situation one could think of. David Serrow signed our logbooks with the Type Certification.

For the trip from Orlando back to Chapel Hill, Bill and Sheila, our usual pilots, rode as passengers, although we asked Bill to ride in the jump seat and critique our flying. Kim and I were pilot and co-pilot, respectively. Kim won the coin toss and became pilot-in-command.

Upon landing, Bill bid us adieu. He was leaving us for more flight action in corporate jets than we were giving him, mostly with our weekend flights. I appreciated that. Sheila would still be our pilot, co-pilot, or aide in whatever role we wanted her in. For a while, we wanted a set of training wheels on the jet, and that would be Sheila sitting in the jump seat.

Sheila’s husband and homebase was near the Camp Forge home, so when we were in North Carolina, it was a layover for her. Kim made that a little more palatable for her, by inviting her to stay at her home. Of course, that also meant that she was in our bed on those nights, and was getting a good share of the loving we had to offer. We were a very horny bunch of people. Debbie really liked being with Sheila, too; I think mostly because she was also a pilot.

Evident from the time we landed in either of our usual airports were two members of the security team that Kim and I had. Mace, the meaner-looking of the two, was one of the greeting bodyguards in North Carolina. We drove but they were vigilant in the back seat with Sheila squeezed in between the two men.

In March, we discovered that the security team had added a nice recreational vehicle (RV) set-up just off the driveway at Kim’s house. Included was also an extension to the outdoor security system with motion alerts and other bells and whistles. We were already carrying panic buttons to alert the team if we suddenly were in a bad situation, plus there were six buttons strategically placed around the inside of Kim’s home. If we hit the button, all hell would break loose and heaven would shake as they moved to protect us.

Much as we both wanted to fly around the country and have some fun in the jet, we spent the next week focused on TNA business, even putting in some twelve-hour days to partially make-up for our time at the flight school. Kim was reorganizing part of the business into more logical ‘clumps’ and focused on making that go smoothly. I was finishing up due diligence on two acquisitions, and getting funding and closings arranged on the purchases.

Friday in late afternoon, we flew the Challenger 350 to Camp Forge. This time, I was the PIC, Kim was co-pilot, and Sheila rode in the jump seat. Debbie was in back with one of the security men as our ‘real’ passengers. If I say so myself, the flight was flawless.

One thing that I got the feeling of for the first time, was landing on the relatively short runway at Camp Forge. Chapel Hill had been the same way, but it reminded me that I needed to call Sawyer and see what the hold-up was for the runway extension. I thought we’d done all the necessary paperwork before Christmas.