IN NOVEMBER 1986, my father and I, along with two family friends and their dog, embarked on our annual trip to my grandmother's house for Thanksgiving in my father's 1964 Cessna 182. The weather forecast for the trip was marginal VFR to IFR. My father was instrument rated and the airplane was marginally equipped (no autopilot, no HSI). I held a private certificate with about 450 hours and was an aspiring instrument pilot (i.e., no training yet). We elected to have me sit in the left seat to gain some actual instrument experience thinking that, if required, my father could make an instrument approach from the right seat. This was the first of several stupid mistakes that, were it not for some luck, would have resulted in five fatalities.
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