This piece originally ran in the January 2023 issue of EAA Sport Aviation magazine.

It was the picture on page 207 that did it for me. There was just something about the brightly colored ultralight swooping low over the New England countryside. With the open “form follows function” look of the craft and the clarity of the details on the ground, something inside shouted at me, “That has to be awesome.”

The picture I’m referencing is found in the August 1983 issue of National Geographic magazine. It wasn’t an introduction to aviation but more of a personal revelation. A couple of years previous, at about 11 years old, my pop paid a local pilot to take us up in a Cessna 172. That was unforgettable. I felt 10 feet tall the next day at school as I bragged that I had “flown” a Cessna around town. But the little yellow ultralight in the picture somehow spoke to my adolescence. It reeked of fun, the same fun that I was looking for whenever I rode my little go-kart or bike, but with the added excitement of undiscovered adventure. To this day, I still occasionally pull out that old National Geographic and flip through the pictures. When the stress of operating a sport aviation business gets to be a bit much, sometimes that picture reminds me what it’s all about.

Maybe I’m biased, but I think that early exposure to ultralights really shaped my view of aviation. It stimulated my interest in lots of different forms of flying. It fortified the sense that flying can be pretty awesome. I’ve found that as long as I keep that at the forefront, it makes the effort worthwhile.

And, to fly ultralights does take effort. But, over the years, I’ve worked with both aspiring pilots and aircraft owners alike. One thing I’ve learned is that not only are our paths into sport aviation very different, but also so are our expectations. My early yearning to fly like that Vector pilot on page 207 has shaped my desire to learn what was needed to do so. Many times, the eagerness offsets the trouble.

I feel that some folks also pick up that “spark” of interest but maybe are not prepared for the effort needed to fly and own the simplest of aircraft. In the last two articles, we discussed the efforts needed to learn to fly ultralights. This time, we’ll talk about ownership and operation.

Mr. Fix-It

You’ve received some solid instruction, and you’ve purchased your dream ultralight. You’re having the time of your life buzzing around, but can you keep it flying? This may not seem to be as big a problem as finding flight instruction, but it is a real concern. Why? Again, it’s because it’s so different than mainstream aviation.

If you had bought a Cessna 150, it’s hard to imagine that you couldn’t find someone to repair its Continental engine within 50 miles of your hangar. At least that’s the case in the United States. But, no, you bought an ultralight with a “Wiz-Bang 6000” two-stroke. You’ll be lucky if anyone within 50 miles of you has seen one, much less knows how to work on it. Don’t expect your local A&P mechanic to be interested in helping. He’s got a lot of time and expense involved in keeping his GA customers happy. He could actually lose money taking time away from other jobs just to look at your engine.

Some buyers feel that they can avoid this problem by buying new. The idea is that the factory support or warranty will solve this issue. Maybe to some degree, but not likely. The reality is that most ultralight manufacturers are small mom and pop outfits, even the more popular companies with a handful of employees. It’s unrealistic to think that the manufacturer is going to drop everything, get on an airliner, fly across the country, and fix your issue. At best, most manufacturers will support you with parts, calls, texts, emails, and, in some cases, by using a dealer in your area. Consider this scenario: Your engine needs repair, and it’s covered by warranty. The ultralight manufacturer has agreed to pay for shipping back to the factory, but you’re responsible for removing the engine, reinstalling the engine, making the necessary adjustments, and testing. Are you capable of that? Is there someone in your area who can help?

Also keep in mind that just because your ultralight is new doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t expect problems early on. Actually, the opposite can be true. The first several hours are truly a “shakedown” period. That’s why homebuilts, for example, have a Phase I flight testing period. It takes a while to work out all the bugs. Even if the manufacturer has test flown the ultralight, it’s highly unlikely he flew more than a couple of hours; otherwise, it’s almost like he’s selling you a used plane. So, don’t be surprised if you have a few minor issues to contend with.

This is not meant to discourage, but to give you realistic expectations. When I cover this topic with my students, I like to quiz them a bit: “Do you like to maintain your car yourself? Do you make repairs around the house?” One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that those ultralight owners who have the most success are those who don’t mind taking the time to learn their machines and get their hands a little dirty. Yes, this is more than likely going to require more travel and money to receive that type of training. The good news is that ultralights are simple machines. With a little training you can become knowledgeable. You may find you like the work. I can honestly say that I have almost as much fun working on these little machines as I do flying them.

This need for mechanical training actually makes a good case for a flying club ultralight flight instruction program, as I mentioned last month. One of the best ways to learn is to work shoulder to shoulder with those who are active in the field every day, and that should be second nature in a club environment.

Worth the Effort

Yesterday, I drove the half-hour to my hangar for an afternoon flight. A weather system out of the Gulf was finally dissipating, and the forecast promised that the sun was supposed to shine for the last few hours of daylight. It took about another half-hour to open the doors, attend to minor maintenance, and gas up. Once I lifted off, my only goal was to enjoy the flight. I wasn’t even sure which direction I was headed. I leveled off at about 1,000 feet AGL to stay below the scattered clouds. The sun was just starting to peek out, but in this late afternoon light, the slanted rays were highlighting bright green crops underneath dark gray cloud formations. The contrast was striking.

The air was smooth. I decided to fly southwest to a couple of strips and see if anyone else was around. Occasionally the radio was alive with someone navigating the pattern at some far-off airport, but for the most part I was just alone with my thoughts. After flying the river for a bit, I then moved over to the west and did a low approach down a friend’s grass strip. No one home. Next, I flew north to a nearby public airport. Turning base to final, I saw two cars parked next to the six hangars. In the distance, someone was taking a lazy Sunday afternoon bike around the airport parking lot. No hangar doors were open, and the pattern was quiet. After touchdown, I just turned around and took off again, heading home. I still had about an hour of daylight left for the half-hour return trip.

Now the sun was really low and on my back, and the view forward was breathtaking. The air was so calm that I could take my hand off the stick. At some point, it dawned on me that my childhood dreams had come true. I was that lucky guy in the bright-yellow craft on page 207, not just observing the sites, but “living” it.

I don’t try to convince anyone that the path forward in ultralight aviation is easy, but it is fulfilling. A lot will depend on your personal expectations, but also on your personal “spark.” Whatever it was, keep at it. Afternoons like these will remind you what it’s all about.

Mark Murray, EAA 394554, of Georgetown, Georgia, was always fascinated by airplanes. He discovered ultralights thanks to an article published in National Geographic in 1983. In 2008, he earned his light-sport repairman maintenance rating and turned his hobby into a business, eventually becoming a CFI and an A&P mechanic.