The third day as an aircraft owner unfolded with a blend of anticipation and the promise of new knowledge. It was to be a day of training with Brad, who would guide me through the necessary sign-offs. For those unacquainted with aviation, a pilot must often receive endorsements when transitioning between different aircraft types—a rite of passage when moving from a simple craft to one of greater complexity and performance. Brad, with his vast experience, particularly with Bonanzas, and his credentials as a Certified Flight Instructor, was the ideal mentor. Although we had already touched on some training during our return flight from Texas, there was still much to explore.

That morning, we departed from Moraine Airpark for a series of aerial maneuvers. We soared northeast, immersing ourselves in the intricacies of steep bank turns, S-turns, slow flight, and both clean and dirty stalls. Amidst these exercises, a moment of levity emerged: my hand, in the throes of maneuvering, accidentally grazed the Push-to-Talk (PTT) button, broadcasting my less-than-eloquent reactions to the radio frequency. To my astonishment, a voice on the other end remarked that our exchanges were coming through clearly. It was a humorous and memorable instance, especially when a few days later, the attendant at Moraine recounted hearing Brad’s voice and the amusing episode, cementing our place in the local aviation lore.

After our aerial endeavors, Brad guided us to I74 (Urbana-Grimes Field), where a charming café awaited us with its promise of breakfast. We enjoyed a hearty and reasonably priced meal before continuing our training, touching down at two more nearby airports. The morning was bustling with activity and learning.

Upon returning to Moraine, we paused to catch our breath and plan for an afternoon of further training. However, our plans shifted when Brad needed to address some errands in Columbus. We chose ground transportation for this, as Brad had mechanical tasks requiring his attention. As we completed our errands, the sky darkened with the approach of thunderstorms. Just in time, we secured Big Boy in a hangar and took refuge ourselves. The day’s training came to an unexpected halt as the storms grounded all flying activities, a reminder of nature’s authority over our aspirations.