My name is Vladimir. I was born in the Siberian city of Tomsk, where I got my first degree and started working in IT. Now, I live in San Francisco, California, managing an investment fund.
In 2013 my biggest dream came true — I became a private pilot. It was a significant and exhilarating event, the fulfillment of a cherished dream. The process of obtaining my license felt like a true journey, my life was filled with excitement, challenges, and unforgettable moments.
When you experience such vivid moments, it feels like you’ll never forget them. But, alas, new impressions push out the old ones, and everything gradually fades from memory. That’s why I decided to write down how it all happened before the whole story condenses into a single line.
Over these 11 years, 130 people have climbed with me into the sky, held the yoke, and even flown the plane. One of them obtained their own pilot’s license, and another friend is on the home stretch. I want to share my “License Story” in the hope that my experience as a pilot might inspire someone, and my detailed description could help navigate this path.
I believe I’ve been really passionate about aviation since before I could walk or talk. As a child, I made numerous drawings of planes, and it’s amusing to look at them now. An important part of these drawings was the instrument panels in the cockpit and other aircraft equipment, as I imagined they should look like :)
Every summer, we would fly to visit my grandmother, and I could hardly wait for the day we’d go to the airport. The excitement of seeing the planes up close and the thrill of flying filled my heart with joy and curiosity.
Usually, we flew from Tomsk to Abakan on a turboprop An-24, whose appearance and cabin layout I knew very well. But one day, for some reason, the plane was switched to a Let L-410 “Turbolet”, a small twin-engine aircraft for regional flights capable of carrying about 15 passengers.
Our seats were in the front row, and I immediately took the observation post by the window to “monitor” the situation both outside and inside, and even in the cockpit. In this model, the cockpit wasn’t completely separated from the passenger cabin. The entrance to the cockpit was merely partitioned off with curtains at the edges. The curtain in front of me remained open for the entire flight, allowing me to observe everything happening in the cockpit from behind the co-pilot’s back. Needless to say, I was ecstatic!
Then came school, work, various projects, and a move to the Russian capital, Moscow. Unfortunately, in the 1990s, a pilot’s career didn’t offer promising prospects as aviation in Russia was struggling at that time. And I wanted to build a stable foundation for my life, believing that I could achieve it more quickly in the IT field. However, deep down, I always felt that my aviation story was far from over.
One day, while vacationing in Turkey, I saw a small single-engine seaplane offering rides to tourists near our hotel. I couldn’t resist the opportunity and took a flight over the coastline. It was early in the morning — the sun was rising, the sea was calm, and we soared through the skies — it was amazing. The pilot was passionate about his work and, seeing my genuine interest, happily explained the specifics of piloting a seaplane to me. As we landed, I was certain that upon returning to Moscow, I would start looking for a flight school.
So, I started looking for a flight school and researching how to obtain a private pilot’s license in Russia. Since I didn’t have any acquaintances in aviation who could help or advise me, I turned to the Internet. To my disappointment there was very little information available online. However, I discovered that there are aviation clubs that bring together aircraft owners, pilots, instructors, and students. These clubs provide training and also help with the preparation of all documents and the organization of the license exam. I found three such clubs online and chose the one that was closest to my place. Additionally, its website seemed to be more up-to-date.
This aviation club was based at a dual-purpose airfield — Ostafyevo. It hosted military aircraft and also supported a business aviation fleet. The airfield was equipped with a large 2-kilometer-long (6,500 feet) asphalt runway, a backup grass strip, night lighting, and a control tower. All these facilities provided an excellent training environment, including opportunities to practice radio communication skills.
The first time I arrived, I was fascinated by the variety of small planes. I hadn’t had any experience with general aviation before, so I couldn’t stop exploring them in detail.
On September 21, 2007, I had my introductory flight with the club’s flying director. My namesake, Vladimir, was a stern man with an impressive aviation career. Remarkably, he had previously commanded a Tu-22M3 squadron!
Since the club was located within a military base, I was issued a special car permit to access the airfield. To reach the club’s parking area, I had to drive part of the way on an active taxiway. I vividly remember being stunned when I saw that an An-74 and I were “taxiing” towards each other!
My training was challenging due to several factors. Firstly, in Ostafyevo, the military naturally had priority, so our flights were often canceled due to their exercises. Additionally, the unpredictable Moscow weather during fall, winter and spring, combined with long traffic jams, compounded the difficulties. Sometimes it took me two hours to get to the airfield, only to return empty-handed. By the time I arrived, either the weather would worsen or the military would close the airfield.
Secondly, it was more of an aviation club than a formal flight school, so there was no unified training program or ground school, at least in my experience. Each instructor had their own students and methods. From the first day, we primarily flew patterns around the airfield and practiced landings. At that time, the airspace in Russia was strictly regulated, so training maneuvers above pattern altitude or cross-country flights to other airfields were completely off the table.
I felt frustrated; it seemed that the training was progressing slowly and without any noticeable improvement. Then, one day, something really bad happened that completely dampened my enthusiasm. The weather was poor, with a crosswind and an impending snowstorm, and on top of that, the military was about to close the field for their operations. My landings weren’t going well, and my instructor wasn’t happy with me.
Even though my session finished just fine, I had a feeling that something was off — there was this palpable pressure brewing in the cockpit. I left feeling unsettled, even questioning whether I was meant to be a pilot. The next day, I learned that the training flight immediately after mine had ended in a crash.
According to reports, shortly after takeoff, the plane’s engine failed. The altitude was low, leaving very little time to assess the situation and make the right decision. They tried to return, but lost altitude, and as a result, the plane made a hard landing. Fortunately, everyone survived, although they were seriously injured. It was a 1974 Cessna 172 — a very reliable and time-tested model. In aviation, it’s often said that this plane “forgives” many pilot mistakes, making it ideal for training. I am convinced that the fact everyone survived is also a tribute to the aircraft itself.
After this accident, I didn’t think about flying for some time. In fact, there was nothing to fly either. The crashed plane was beyond repair, and a replacement didn’t arrive for a while. Yet, a few months later, I returned to the “ranks”, so to speak, and continued my training with another instructor. However, it was quite irregular and more for fun; I was trying to maintain some connection with aviation in any form.
I am very grateful to my Russian instructor, Vasily Pleshakov, for everything he taught me. He often invited me to different airfields where he had the opportunity to fly. His dedication and enthusiasm always inspired me and kept my love for aviation alive.
With aviation, I realized that once you get up in the sky, all your problems and worries are left on the ground. From the moment the airplane takes off, the only thing that matters is the flight. It is in these moments that you realize you truly live. Well, I must also confess that I used every opportunity to employ aviation to impress my girlfriends, and it worked really well :)
I never got my license in Russia for all the reasons mentioned earlier, but it was still my first big step in that direction. Next, I will tell the story of how it all materialized in America, how my education was structured, the stages I had to go through, and what made each moment special.
The story continues in Part 2 — New Page in America
All Links:
Part 1 — Russian Origins
Part 2 — New Page in America
Part 3 — First Flights with the Instructor
Part 4 — First Solo Flight
Part 5 — Cross-Country Flights
Part 6 — Night Flight
Part 7–100% on Written Exam
Part 8 — Checkride and I am a pilot!
