It's really not about the airplane

 “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”
― Ray Bradbury

 "Johnny May, a Canadian bush pilot with 42,000 hours on many different types, was the first Inuit pilot  and the initiator of the Christmas candy drop tradition in Kuujjuaq.
During his career, Johnny has flown many planes but his all-time favorite is the Twin Beach. He has flown it on floats, wheels and wheel-skis around the tundra. While on a medevac mission he almost arrived late to his own wedding because the mission took longer than expected and he pushed his Twin Beech hard to make it on time!
He has mentioned to me many times that he would love to fly again in one to remember the thousands of hours he spent in his Beech 18."
― Felix Lussier

"The Beech 18 is not an airplane for a low timer who is young and eager. It most certainly can severely bite an inexperienced pilot, no matter how eager he is."
― Dudley Henriques

 "You cannot let your guard down in the Twin Beech even for a millisecond, for if you do, she will get your attention back in a hurry. She requires constant attention and respect to keep her and your passengers safe. If you are not careful she can, and will, do things that you don't want her to do. On the other hand, the Twin Beech is an awesome aircraft that can do things that other aircraft couldn't dream of.  Walter Beech and Ted Wells should be proud of their fantastic design."
 ― Taigh Ramey

"The Beech 18 is a pilot's airplane.  That's all you need to know about it."
 ― My Dad

I talked to dad about the upgrades Duane had suggested making to our Beech but he nixed all but the cockpit upgrades, which he had already mentioned he wants to do. 

"The bird flies just fine as she is," he said.  "Like they say, if it ain't broke don't fix it."

"So no Hoerner wingtips?" I wanted those.

"I like the look of her the way she is, every part of her.  Besides, have you found the old girl unstable in rough air or difficult to handle at low speeds, lack of aileron authority, tendency to stall and drop a wing tightening a turn from base to final?"

"Not really, no, and I don't overshoot my turns from base to final, even with a tail wind, and crank it in; I know how to judge that. Kid stuff. And I'm still here. Geez, dad.  But I do think a wingtip change would be really worth it. Anyway, the plane is already upgraded and modified." Counting the mods off on my fingers, I mentioned no nose fuel tank, six tanks in the wings, high gross mods to the cowlings, propeller circuit breaker, Aerospace spar straps, all the wiring and hoses replaced, corrosion control, reinforced landing gear struts, channel-type rear tire, Cleveland main wheels and brakes with inner tubes and O rings for the tires, high speed gear doors, ram air scoops for the carburetor intakes, jet stack exhausts, newer radios, S-TEC 60-2 autopilot, airstairs, custom interior....

"Well, we are going to upgrade the cockpit.  As for the rest, I think the fuel tank arrangement was in place when dad -- your granddad -- bought the plane. Some others as well. The radios were a routine upgrade, and the brakes were a must because the Goodyears were not very good and --"

"Okay then, but why not do the engine upgrades Duane suggests?"

"I don't want them." 

And that ended that discussion, but the mention of spare parts led to a discussion of their future availability and dad leading me to a rear section of our hanger to some dusty storage cabinets.  Inside were stacks of spare parts for the Beech and around behind the cabinets were two brand new Pratt & Whitney R-985 engines in crates.  

"Your grandfather got those and the spares when he bought the plane.  I don't know if they were part of the sale, but they probably were, as the owners would have had no use for them once they sold the Beech.  And I've been buying commonly needed spares and stock-piling them for some time, so we have multiple spares for most things we might need."

"But you don't use them, you buy from Duane when the plane is serviced or has its annual."

"Right.  These are just for the time when spares may be hard to get. I want to give Duane the business.  He needs it and we need him. So we are obliged to support him."

"You want to give Duane the business, huh?"

"Don't get smart, missy."

"Couldn't help it."

"Anyway, Wanda, when you own the airplane you can do what you want with it. If you want --"

"When I own it?" That took me by surprise.  "Has that been determined?  When was I consulted about this?  What if I don't want the thing?"

"Of course you want it. I've seen how you fly it. You talk to it. It's alive to you. Anyway, it's a practical necessity for ranch life. You've learned that. As far as you getting the plane, your brothers and I talked about it."  

My naval officer brother intended to stay in the Navy as long as they would have him so he had no desire to own an airplane.  He flew for his job and also had access to Navy flying clubs.  Dad mentioned that he was partial to the T-34B at Monterey when he had been studying at the Naval post-graduate school there.

"I thought that club was closed now," I said.

"I don't know.  That's not the point."

"Which is?"

"That your brother is not interested in owning a small airliner.  He would prefer something more sporty."  

I asked about my brother the forest ranger.

"He doesn't want it either, but he does want the Aviat Husky.  He'd love to have it.  I told him it was all his.  I figured you wouldn't want it.  You've shown no interest in it.  If he doesn't come back to the ranch he's planning to settle down in Alaska and the Husky would be perfect for him there. Something he could really get good use out of."

"Fine with me.  So I get the Beech, huh?"

"If you want it. I thought you did but you acted there for a minute as if you didn't. Do you or not?"

I looked away from dad's gaze and thought about it.  There'd be a lot of expense involved in keeping it flying.  Some could be written off as part of ranch use, I assumed, maybe most. But, still, it was an old airplane, designed 90 ago and manufactured 70 years ago. However you looked at it, it couldn't have much service life left in it.  What it had going for it was that it was built in an era when things were engineered to last indefinitely and to be repairable. And the air frame didn't have a lot of hours on it, being flown sparingly as an executive transport and air ambulance for most of its life before being acquired by my grandfather in the 1960s. But nothing lasts forever and the day would come sooner rather than later when the Twin Beech would make its last flight.

I honestly didn't know if we were going to stay at the ranch.  I didn't know if I really wanted to.  Some parts of me said yes, other parts were not so sure.  And Jeff was talking about emigrating, which I did not want to do but whither he goeth, thither I follow, so I would accept his decision.

But beyond that I was wondering why this subject had suddenly come up. "Is there some reason I have to decide this now?"

"Wanda, to be truthful, I haven't been feeling right since I fell ill last fall."

I started to say something but dad, anticipating me, cut me off.

"I'm okay, just not back to my old self, I can tell --"

 "I thought you were all better, dad.  You've been pretty active, snowmobiling and snow-shoeing and --"

"Yes, I've done those things but they really wore me out.  I should have begged off but I guess my pride wouldn't let me do that."

"You just need more time to recover.  You shouldn't rush things. You had it pretty bad there for a while."

 "You don't have to tell me.  Anyway, what I want to say is -- and it's something my illness and the days since have made me realize -- I know now that I am an old man.  I never thought about that before.  I was just me, same as ever I was.  But now I know I am old.  I don't have much time left."

"Dad! What are you saying?"

"Oh, I'm all right.  As far as I know.  Now. But the reality has hit me that the time I have left is limited, so I need to plan for that and take care of things now. I don't want anything to be a burden on your mother, or cause dissension among my children. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do, dad.  I don't like it. But I understand."  I wanted to hug him, but I knew he was uncomfortable with that sort of display of affection.

"Well, enough of that," he said.  "It's a nice day today.  Do you feel up to taking a walk?"

I wasn't but I said I was and we had a pleasant walk.

Just for fun