The plan was to fly dad’s plane (a.k.a. the “Hangar Queen“) up to Washburn so that I could practice a few landings at that airport. During the preflight, I noticed the gas gauge for the left tank was completely at empty. This shouldn’t have been so, since it had been topped off when we used it last.

When it was all said and done, after the gas level in the wing tank had been physically checked, and after noticing a dark smudge ring beneath the plane, we came to realize that the fuel had completely leaked out.

“Lookit here,” Mark said, pointing to the underside of the fuselage. “Do you see that ring? What color is that?”

“Blue,” I said.

“And what do we know is blue?”

Crap. “The fuel…”

After looking at it more, Mark realized it was the fuel selector valve that was faulty, and since the fuel selector had be set over to the left tank, that was the one that had leaked.

First, that’s a lot of money dumped out on the asphalt. Second, there’d be no flying today.

“So, PIC, what do you say?” he asked.

I’m a lover of caution, and there was no way I was going to fly the plane with that kind of an issue. “If I were here by myself, I’d not fly.”

We walked back up to the FBO, me somewhat disappointed. Really, I know I need to fly more, yet dealing with the responsibility of dad’s plane was getting to be too much. Plus, the weather was so perfect, I hated to waste it.

We went inside and as we were about to leave, the man we’d need to talk to about the maintenance arrived from an air show in South Dakota. We explained the issue and, when the entire conversation was all said and done, we were able to go flying in another plane. Mark flew, and I was in the right seat. This was a very nice 172. He showed me how the autopilot worked and a few other things, and then we went to Mandan for a few landings.

“Do you want to try to land it?” he asked.

I’d never tried doing any flying from the right seat. I was also having to admit I was missing my ridiculous elevator cushion (I’m too short and I have a hard time seeing over the “dash” and nose of the airplane) but I didn’t want to miss out on a chance to have a new experience.

“S-u-ure,” I said. “You may have to help a bit.” Which he did a little. Still, it was good to try, and completely different from how I’d learned since I was using opposite hands to do things.

Not the day I’d planned, nor in the plane I’d originally prepared for, but still…it was nice to get up in the air and look down.