I retired seven years ago and moved to an airpark. If I had the bucks for gas, I’d fly every day, maybe a couple times a day. As it is, I fly two to four times a week. At least one flight is to breakfast with neighbors. Every morning there are at least three, and often as many as eight, planes departing for breakfast. One of my favorite regular flights is going up late in the day to just enjoy the scenery and watch the sun set.
Every Thursday from early fall through mid spring, I fly out to the weekly gathering of the Old Farts Flying Club. It’s actually an informal email list, goes to some place different every week - airparks or public fields with a restaurant or museum or a particularly good restaurant or attraction close by - with anywhere from 60 to 140 planes showing up at each one.
I get up when I want for the most part, although the weather forces an early rise in the summer. With the Florida weather, I want to get my bike ride and workout in before it gets too hot and before the thunderstorms. Plus fly early - it sucks under a bubble canopy when it’s 93 degrees with a feels-like temp of 110+, which is the norm for 100+ days in a row every year.
And practically every day I get to just roam the airpark and see who’s out and about, usually just shooting the breeze about all things aviation.
Retirement life is not just good, it’s incredibly great and every day I look around, take it all in for a few minutes and just grin from ear to ear.