Pilot Lawyers, Plane Shopping, and Popcorn Turbulence: A Mount Dora Adventure
There are trips that feel glamorous, and then there are trips that feel like a combination of comedy sketch, aviation expo, and adult summer camp. Our trip to Mount Dora, Florida for the Pilot Lawyer Bar Association conference somehow managed to be all three.
Yes. Pilot Lawyers.
Which sounds like either a niche LinkedIn subgroup or the setup to a punchline, but it’s actually one of the friendliest, most welcoming groups of humans you’ll ever meet. We discovered them last year, and this year I had the honor of leading the copilot book club — which felt a little like being asked to teach a class when you’re not entirely sure you did all the homework correctly.
We read A Land Remembered, which I genuinely loved. It’s historical fiction about early Florida — back when the state was less “Disney adults and HOA rules” and more “mosquitoes the size of Labradors and swamps that actively wanted to kill you.” Highly recommend if you enjoy family sagas and being grateful you live in the era of air conditioning and bug spray.
We took the Vision Jet, affectionately known as the Baby Jet, which continues to feel like a slightly futuristic minivan that just happens to fly at 300 knots.
Chad has become such a confident pilot that I occasionally forget we are literally launching ourselves into the sky inside what is essentially a carbon-fiber capsule with snacks (that you need to remember to bring).
But if you know Chad, you know he is always working toward the next aviation merit badge. Current obsession: dual-engine jet. Which meant a completely reasonable stop in Melbourne at Embraer so he could test-fly a Phenom 100. Let me translate that more accurately: We stopped so my husband could try on another airplane like it was a pair of jeans at Nordstrom.
The first hurdle with any aircraft is not range or avionics — it’s Can Chad Physically Fit Inside It Without Needing the Jaws of Life? About half the aviation industry appears to have been designed for people under 5’9”.
I’m happy to report he successfully folded himself into the cockpit with only minor dignity loss and a maneuver that could best be described as “graceful giraffe entering a compact car.”
The plane was gorgeous. Sleek interior. Plush seats. Four passengers comfortably, plus two more if someone is willing to sit on what is technically a toilet that doubles as a chair.
Yes – the lavatory is also a seat. Nothing says luxury aviation like explaining to your guests, “You’ll be sitting on the commode, but in a premium way.”
The Embraer team treated us like royalty. The only downside? They would not let me ride along during the test flight. Apparently, insurance companies have no sense of adventure or appreciation for enthusiastic copilot wives.
Flying Over Disney Like a Human Google Maps
From Melbourne we headed toward Mount Dora, which required flying over Orlando. I spent the entire time pressed against the window narrating confidently incorrect observations like:
“I THINK THAT’S EPCOT.”
“WAIT — NO — THAT ONE IS UNIVERSAL.”
“IS THAT HARRY POTTER OR A POWER PLANT?”
Was I accurate? Unknown.
Was I committed? Completely.
Key to my temporary home
Mount Dora sits on a beautiful lake in central Florida, flat and shimmering and dotted with tiny houses that look like they’ve been slowly marinating in humidity since the Carter administration.
The conference was at the Lakeside Inn — the oldest continuously operating hotel in Florida — which can best be described as charming with character and unexpected stairs.
Real keys. Real keychains. Rocking chairs. Lake breezes.
Also floors that slope slightly, doorways that appear where you don’t expect them, and at least three random steps between any two points. You just accept that part of the experience and move on with your life. The staff could not have been nicer, and honestly the charm outweighs the structural confusion.
Lawn Bowling: The Retirement Sport That Isn’t
Our friend Amy (the captain of the copilot crew) signed us up for lawn bowling. I assumed this meant something casual like bocce or lawn darts — I was wrong.
We walked next door to the Mount Dora Lawn Bowling Club where approximately twelve extremely committed members were waiting to coach us like Olympic trainees. Lawn bowling uses weighted balls that are intentionally off-balance so they curve, which means nothing goes where your brain thinks it should.
Our instructors, Coach and Debbie, were delightful, patient, and very serious about proper form. I learned the playing surface is a special sand mixture (name immediately forgotten) and that professional bowl sets cost about $500 and last a year. Which is when I realized this was not a cute hobby. This was a financially committed lifestyle. And honestly — It was ridiculously fun. I am now one emotional impulse away from joining a lawn bowling league, but I can’t find one in Charlotte.
Wildlife and Warning Signs
We walked along the lake, saw beautiful birds and fish, and counted roughly seventeen signs reminding us not to interact with alligators. We did not see any alligators. I was both relieved and slightly offended. Why advertise them so heavily if they’re not going to show up?
Plane Shopping, Attempt Two
Because this is a pilot conference, aviation enthusiasm was running high. Cessna had arranged for us to see — and for Chad to fly — a Citation M2 that happened to be nearby.
Everything was going great until… one of the engines would not start. Nothing boosts consumer confidence like a jet that refuses to cooperate during a demo. The pilots were mortified. We were gracious. Aviation is humbling. They promised a future retry.
Chad still got bonus points for fitting in the cockpit again, which frankly should count toward some kind of loyalty program.
Yoga on the Dock (Of Course)
On the final morning the hotel offered yoga on the dock overlooking the lake. You know I was there. Warm air. Water breeze. Gentle stretching. A moment of peace before returning to real life and laundry.
The Ride Home: Character-Building Turbulence
Because Chad had work on Sunday, we decided to head home early — which is honestly one of the greatest luxuries of having your own airplane. There’s no TSA, no boarding groups, no people aggressively hovering near the gate. You just… walk out and leave when you want to. Of course, the universe likes to keep us humble, so we did hit a band of weather on the way back and the Baby Jet started bouncing around like a popcorn kernel in a microwave.
I went straight into deep-breathing mode and began silently repeating my personal aviation affirmation: Chad knows what he’s doing. Chad knows what he’s doing. Chad knows what he’s doing. Meanwhile, Chad is completely unfazed, calmly managing everything like we’re driving over a mildly uneven road instead of flying through the sky at high speed. He handled it beautifully, as always, and before long we were back on the ground and heading home, where Carmen and Freddie were waiting — ecstatic, wiggly, and slightly offended we had dared to leave them behind.
There is truly no welcome like dogs who behave as if you have returned from a months-long expedition instead of a couple nights trip, and honestly, no matter how fun the adventure is, coming home to that level of unconditional enthusiasm might be the very best part.