If an agent’s main currency is “time,” then John Davis saves plenty of it as he covers his territory at the controls of a Cirrus SR-22 Turbo.

The rep business was literally shortening my life. Three years and 160,000 miles later, I have wasted 150 days of my life staring at innumerable stupid bumper stickers, stick-figure families on SUV windows, and questionably road-worthy cars with sagging suspension. This is not the anticipated freedom of self-employment; this is insanity. Also titled: why I got my pilot’s license, and why you should stop wasting your time and get yours, too.

2010: As I sat in traffic — again — on a breezy, blue summer Friday afternoon six hours from home, I was rehashing this precise argument. Two years prior, I had taken over the family rep business and had been driving, on average, 60,000 miles per year covering our large territory — Ohio, Western Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and Indiana. My business specializes in components for industrial heat treating and automation and, as such, our customer base is both niche and far-flung. Our core product lines are quite technical in nature; as a result, although the commission rates are comfortable, pre-sale and post-sale support eat up a large portion of that payday in the form of time invested. I call on distributors and end customers far and wide, and when they need me, they want me there sooner rather than later.

It is no stretch for me to say that a relatively standard week — if there is such a thing — can find me in Pittsburgh, Mansfield, Toledo, Evansville (Indiana), and Cincinnati, with each place hosting maybe one or two key meetings and the rest of the time tied up in travel between locations.

Time to Staff Up?

So, hire a salesperson, right? For us, the answer is unfortunately not that simple. Our product line mix is highly technical, and the nature of our sales cycle is very project-based. This means that for our company, it is important to keep overhead costs under control so that we can sustain the inter-project interim when we are conducting application engineering and business development. Additionally, the knowledge that I have accumulated selling these highly technical lines is not easily transferable. So, for us, our structure of one outside person (me), a handful of sub-rep partnerships for key accounts, and two very good inside salespeople is perfect in terms of both cost and time efficiency.

Simply put, business growth for my company will not be found by “staffing-up.” For one, the cost-equation is upside down thanks to swelling healthcare costs, and adding additional salespeople — without significant strategic planning — would be a poor use of resources.

My business grows when I am in front of my distributors and customers selling highly technical solutions. I needed to be in two places at once. What better way to accomplish this feat than by growing wings?

Taking Flight

Two months following my roadside epiphany, I found myself sitting in the left seat of a well-worn Cessna 172, understanding, but not comprehending, that I was now airborne. No one told me that they let you fly on the first lesson. I could barely keep up with what was happening. I was so far behind the airplane that it felt as if I were clutching the tail with my fingertips.

Slowly though, the learning curve started to flatten. Shaky takeoffs soon turned into confident flight, and even bouncy landings turned into, well, better landings. Six months after my first flight, I soloed a gorgeous Cirrus SR20, tail number N208GT, out of Lorain County Regional Airport. Under the careful tutelage of Bob Snezek and his crew at Zone Aviation, I had reached the point where I was trusted, alone, with a state-of-the-art $175,000 aircraft, barreling along at 150mph in the wild blue sky.

Yeah, I thought they were crazy too. But they weren’t — and the reason they weren’t is a well-kept secret in the pilot community. The secret is that the storied “Right Stuff” that pilots are supposedly made from is the same “stuff” that makes small business owners successful. In other words, if you are a sensible, detail-oriented, driven person, you already have the Right Stuff and can — with a little bit of time and money — be a great pilot. But, more on that later.

But Airplanes Are Expensive, Right?

No doubt, flying is very, very cool. And for me, it is a fantastic perk of owning my own company. But at some point, no matter how great the perks or the perceived greatness, flying costs money. And, at some point, the decision has to be made as to whether or not the expenditure makes sense.

Like many things, the cost of private air travel exists on a continuum. For airplanes, cost is calculated based on flight time in hours — basically, how long the engine, or engines, are turning and burning. This hourly cost includes fuel and oil, maintenance reserves for annual FAA mandated inspections, unforeseen maintenance issues, regular preventative maintenance, and in the case of rented aircraft, profit. For a large, corporate jet such as a Gulfstream 550, the hourly cost can be upwards of $10,000 per hour. On the other end of the spectrum, a small, single-engine Piper Cub costs under $100 per hour to fly.

I chose the middle-ground by renting from Zone Aviation at Lorain County Regional Airport. Zone Aviation maintains a fleet of newer high-tech aircraft manufactured by Cirrus of Duluth, Minnesota. The aircraft that I fly is a Cirrus SR-22, arguably the most advanced single-engine airplane available on the market. With a built-in airframe parachute that will guide the airplane safely to the ground in the event of a catastrophic emergency and avionics that are better than that found in many airliners, I fly safely — and quickly at that (I cruise about 200 mph) — in almost any weather condition, for $250 an hour.

Other than the annual club membership fee of $750, I pay nothing, outside of training, unless the engine is running. If I were in the position to lay out $250,000 for a used SR-22 in good condition, or better yet, $750,000 for a brand-new one, the operating costs would be about $140/hour according to Cirrus. But, since I don’t (yet) have access to that type of capital, renting is a great way to fly.

All that being said, driving a car is pretty cheap, and so are hotels, right? How on Earth can flying an airplane for $250/hour make sense for a small business?

Making Sense of It

Quality of life enhancements aside — which I will get into momentarily — the cost/benefit equation for flying is best illustrated by describing a recent trip that occurred earlier this year. Here is the scenario:

Early on in the week, I had a good customer in Danville, Kentucky, request a Thursday meeting to help with some application engineering on a proof-of-concept that could result in $30k of business, should it work. Monday and Tuesday I had a principal in town for calls in Northern Ohio. Wednesday I had a meeting in the Cleveland area, and wouldn’t be able to depart for Kentucky until later in the afternoon. On Friday, I had to be back North in the Toledo area for a cookout/customer appreciation day at one of my distributors. Cleveland to Danville by car is about 6 hours, and Danville to Toledo is about 5.5 hours on the road. If I had chosen to drive, approximately 32 percent of my waking time between Wednesday afternoon and Friday morning would’ve been spent staring at the car in front of me.

From a dollars-and-cents standpoint, assuming the IRS rate of $0.56/mile, and about $100/night for a hotel, the driving trip would’ve cost me about $700 or so including meals. And with the long drive time, I wouldn’t have had much time for other appointments to fill my schedule.

So, the options for me at that juncture were to try to reschedule (inconveniencing my customer and possibly derailing the greater project), or bite the bullet, accept the inefficiencies, and make the trip.

Pilot’s license in hand and plane reserved, obviously, I chose to fly and make the trip, which allowed me to satisfy multiple objectives:

• I was able to see my customer when they needed me.
• I was able to arrive rested and ready for my customer appreciation day in Toledo.
• I was able to see more customers in a shorter period of time.
• I got to spend two nights, that would have otherwise been spent in yet another Hampton Inn, with my young son and wonderful wife.

Lots of benefits, with minimal inefficiencies.

The itinerary looked something like this: I arrived at the airport by 6:30 a.m. Thursday. I enjoyed a cup of coffee while doing my preflight checks, filed my IFR flight plan on my iPad, and then took off. No TSA, no lines, and minimal driving. I cruised at 9,000 feet while sipping coffee and talking to air traffic control, letting the autopilot do the work.

My first stop was Louisville, Kentucky — flight time 1.5 hours. I landed at Clark County Executive and met with some key people at my local distributor. We met for about an hour at the free conference room at the airport, locking in a contract for a new product line of mine they were hoping to carry. Mission accomplished. Coffee, fuel, and once again, I was wheels-up.

Flight time to Danville was 30 minutes. The folks at Stuart Powell airport in Danville were kind enough to let me borrow the free courtesy car — a well-loved Taurus that cost a full tank of gas and a promise not to keep it longer than two hours. I had a very successful meeting with my customer in Danville and, afterwards, a great lunch at a local burger joint. Satiated, I returned to the airport, a full tank for me and the Taurus. Next stop, Indiana.

One of my principals lives in central Indiana, and the plan was to meet face-to-face to discuss projections and plans for the second half of the year. Unfortunately, a nasty line of storms was making its way across the Midwest, and after careful consideration, I decided to pack it in and head back to Cleveland. Thunderstorms are nothing to fool with for any size airplane, and I simply don’t push it when it comes to matters of safety.

At the end of the day, I got to meet one more customer than I expected — sealing an important deal in the process — and, had the storms not been an issue, I would’ve been able to easily squeeze in another appointment.

Regardless, I was home in time for dinner.

Total cost? Flight time was about four hours — so let’s say the trip all said and done cost about $1000. Which is about $300 more than what it would’ve cost to drive the trip. But, for $300, I got to:

• See an important distributor and close a major deal.
• Meet with an important customer and ensure momentum for a large project.
• Spend two more nights with my family.
• Pack more meetings into my Wednesday, and still arrive fresh and ready to do business at my customer appreciation day on Friday.

Is all of that worth $300 of additional cost? For me, the answer is a resounding yes.

Why I Own My Small Business

As many of you who are reading this know, owning a small business comes with a lot of baggage, but it also comes with a lot of perks. I didn’t get into this so that I could run myself into the ground burning miles up and down the great freeways of the Midwest. Certainly that comes as part of the territory (literally), but life is short, and I would rather not spend it on I-71.

For my business, aviation is a growth catalyst that allows me to do more with less, and more important, do it all more profitably. Not only am I saving the expense of employee compensation and benefits, I am able to write off the rental cost of the airplane as a business expense — helping my company when tax season rolls around.

From a risk management standpoint, I am flying one of the fastest, most technologically advanced single-engine aircraft available today. The Cirrus is a great airplane designed to do business, and I am doubling-down on safety with my training program, use of technology, and the airframe parachute.

Put those two together, and flying is a no-brainer.

My closing comment to you is this — you have proven your smarts, perseverance, risk management skills, and situational awareness by building your own business. You have already demonstrated that you have what it takes to be a great pilot.

The next time you are stuck in traffic on a Friday afternoon hours away from home, do me a favor. Look up. Freedom is closer than you may think.

What Next?

First of all, don’t be shy in contacting the author. I love airplanes, and would love to answer any questions you may have about starting your flying adventure. Drop me a line at [email protected].

Second, the Aircraft Owners and Pilot’s Association (AOPA) is a fantastic organization that is a must in terms of membership for any aspiring or current pilots. In addition to protecting our unique American freedom of flight, they offer immense resources whether or not you are a new pilot or a seasoned aviator. Check them out at www.aopa.org/Pilot-Resources/Learn-to-Fly.

Third, thank you to Cirrus (www.cirrusdesign.com) for their help in writing this article. I am a big believer in their mission of making flight safer through the appropriate application of technology and engineering. I would fly no other airplane — Cirrus is a big part of me being able to do what I do.

Last, but not least, is your local airport! Pilots are a friendly bunch, I promise! Don’t be afraid to pop into your local field and ask about flying lessons. The folks there will be glad to help.

MANA welcomes your comments on this article. Write to us at [email protected].