Like you I do both flying and mechanical work on airplanes, I kind of prefer the fixing over flying because it requires far more knowledge and work but the satisfaction of doing it is a reward in its self.
True story. I've been turning wrenches about as long as I've been flying. I feel like I have a fairly good handle on my flying (though the bare truth is that we're all just student pilots)...but haven't begun to scratch the surface when it comes to maintenance. I've got six rollaways full of tools gathered up over the years...and it always seems like I'm just one tool short of what I need.
I'm very dismayed with the current turn of events in the US with the sport pilot certificate and the maintenance privileges given for that program. An individual with no other experience can get certification to work on LSA airplanes with only 120 hours of training...and go to work turning wrenches commercially on them. That's just not right, and not just a slap in the face to the maintenance profession, but a dangerous trend in my view. Off soapbox.
sn3guppy, I no longer do any training because I decided to retire when I turned 70 three years ago.
I'd probably say your justified. I flew with a flight engineer a few days ago who was 71...and who could beat me up the stairs to the main deck, carrying bags. He told me when he's unable to carry his bags up the stairs any more, he will retire. I carried his bags anyway...just for spite.
salvage work in the high arctic and in the desert was low on the nice to do scale though.
I haven't done that. I do recall sitting on top of an R-2600 one afternoon in -20 degree weather once, in a 30-40 knot wind, changing a cylinder. my fingers, gloved with the tips cut off, kept sticking to things, and I had icicles where I didn't really want them. At some point in the afternoon, in the 8 hours it took to change that cylinder (why does it take twice as long when you can't feel your hands and keep dropping the tools?) I distinctly recall quietly asking myself "what the hell am I doing here?"
I picked up a patient in a King Air one night in Mammoth, CA, in the dead of winter. After wondering around on the ramp for a couple of hours in the freezing cold, while waiting for the ambulance, it finally showed up and I helped load the patient. I slipped my flashlight, which had been in my flightsuit sleeve pocket, in my mouth. It froze to my lips. I pulled off skin when I tried to take it out of my mouth. Same sentiments at the time.
I really don't like cold weather.
You weren't part of Darryl Greenemeyer's B29 recovery up there (AK), were you?