My name is Ant Wiese, and I live in Perth, Western Australia.
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I got my restricted private license in 1991, and did the navigation in early 1992. By the time I got my unrestricted I had accumulated about 65 hrs of flying.
Over the next 7 years, I did the occasional course (aerobatics, an incomplete night VFR rating, part of a Mooney endorsement), but struggled to keep doing enough hours to remain confident. By the end of 1998 I was up to 120 hrs. Since gaining my licence, I'd done 55 hours in about 7 years. That's around 8 hours per year, including courses. Not very much at all.
Why did I have trouble clocking up hours? Well firstly, it was expensive, at around $150-$200 per hour. Then there was the effort it took to stay current. Then, eventually, I started losing the inclination.
You see, each month I got a flood of new information, as rules and procedures changed. New airspace types, new airspace boundaries, new airport types, changes to radio terminology, changes to standard routes, and so on. When I was battling to fly a handful of hours each year, pretty soon I felt rusty - not just my general flying skills, but also with current rules and procedures. The rustier I got, the harder it got. Before any flight, I'd have to spend more and more time preparing, making sure I would know what to do. I found that flying became difficult, and each flight became more stressful to plan and execute.
By the time I got married in 1998, I had other uses for my money, and it was very natural to stop flying. I hardly even missed it. I put it on the shelf as something I would get back into 'one day'.
Seven years later, in 2005, I found my old flying briefcase. It was a disgrace - I had stored it in a leaky part of my shed. It was full of mould, a lot of the papers were stuck together, and my aviation medical certificate had even been gnawed by mice. Worst, my logbook was seriously degraded. A lot of the pages were water damaged, but thankfully everything was still readable. This is the book that I'd kept pristine while I was flying. After each lesson, I couldn't wait to get home and add another entry to my logbook, which faithfully recorded how my aeronautical experience slowly increased. Somehow this seemed symbolic to me.
I cleaned up the sad collection, and I suppose it lit a small spark in my brain, and I began to catch myself thinking about flying. I found myself buying the 'Aviation Trader', which lists a large number of second-hand aircraft on sale all over Australia. I began to make whistful red circles around various aircraft, much the same as my Dad does when he's looking through the farm machinery pages.
I saw a particularly affordable aircraft one month, and started doing some sums which showed that we might be able to afford this one. I took these figures to a monthly meeting with Kim. She was more encouraging than any husband can ever really deserve, and soon enough, I was exchanging emails with the seller.