How I Passed the FAA Part 107 Drone License Exam — And Why Every Photographer Should

I'll be honest: when I first bought my DJI drone a few years back, I flew it without really understanding the rules. I'd done some reading, knew to stay away from airports and fly under 400 feet, and figured that was enough. But as I started using aerial shots more seriously in my photography — capturing the Columbia River, the Oregon Coast, the Cascade foothills — I knew I needed to do this the right way. I needed my Part 107 license.

What Is the FAA Part 107?

The FAA Part 107 Remote Pilot Certificate is the commercial drone license issued by the Federal Aviation Administration. If you're flying a drone for any commercial purpose — and "commercial" is interpreted broadly, including making money from photos taken with the drone — you're legally required to hold this certificate.

The exam is 60 questions, administered at an FAA-approved testing center, and you need a score of 70% or higher to pass. Topics include:

• Airspace classifications (Class A, B, C, D, E, G — and what you can and can't do in each)
• Weather and atmospheric conditions
• Airport operations and procedures
• Radio communications
• Drone performance and loading
• Emergency procedures
• FAA regulations specific to UAS (Unmanned Aircraft Systems)

My Study Journey

I budgeted about six weeks to study, though I could have done it in three if I'd been more focused. Here's roughly how my study time broke down:

Week 1-2: Ground School

I started with an online ground school course — there are several good ones aimed specifically at photographers and videographers who don't have aviation backgrounds. The production quality varies wildly, but most cover the required material adequately.

The biggest shock for me was how much of the exam is about manned aviation — things like how to read sectional charts, what a VASI light system means, how to communicate with air traffic control. As a drone pilot, you'll probably never talk to a controller in a tower, but you need to understand what's happening in controlled airspace around you.

Week 3-4: Sectional Charts

This was the hardest part for me. Aeronautical sectional charts are dense, layered maps with dozens of symbols, color codes, and notations that mean specific things to pilots. Learning to read them is genuinely a skill that takes practice.

I printed out sections of the Seattle TAC (Terminal Area Chart) and the Portland sectional and spent evenings at my kitchen table identifying airspace boundaries, deciphering airport data blocks, and tracing VOR radial lines. It felt absurdly like being back in school.

The good news: the exam provides you with a chart excerpt for the questions that need them, so you don't need to memorize the charts — you need to know how to read them.

Week 5: Weather and Regulations

The weather section covers things like how to read METARs and TAFs (aviation weather reports), understanding cloud coverage notation (FEW, SCT, BKN, OVC), visibility minimums, and how weather patterns affect drone flight safety.

The regulatory section was more intuitive for me — most of it is common sense framed in legal language. Maximum altitude of 400 feet AGL (above ground level), staying clear of airports without authorization, flying during daylight or civil twilight with proper lighting, keeping the drone within visual line of sight.

Week 6: Practice Tests

I spent the final week hammering practice tests. I used at least three different question banks and tracked which topics tripped me up. By the end, I was consistently scoring in the high 80s on practice exams.

The Testing Center Experience

I drove to a Pearson VUE testing center in Portland. The whole thing felt like taking a professional certification exam — you surrender your phone and belongings, get a locker, and sit down at a computer terminal. The proctor explains the rules, and then you're on your own for the 2-hour time limit.

The actual exam felt harder than most of my practice tests, which I've since learned is typical. Some questions were worded in ways that felt deliberately ambiguous. I flagged about fifteen questions and came back to review them. I finished with about 40 minutes to spare.

When I hit submit, the screen paused for what felt like ten seconds before showing me my score: 87%. I actually laughed out loud in the silent testing room.

What It's Changed About My Photography

Getting licensed has changed how I approach shoots in a few concrete ways:

I plan differently now. Before any drone shoot, I check airspace using ForeFlight or the FAA's B4UFLY app. I look at local TFRs (Temporary Flight Restrictions), check for any NOTAMs (Notices to Air Missions), and think about proximity to airports. That's just habit now.

I can fly in places I couldn't before. With a Part 107 certificate, you can apply for LAANC (Low Altitude Authorization and Notification Capability) authorizations to fly in controlled airspace — with proper authorization, not illegally. Some of my favorite locations along the Columbia River fall under Portland's Class C airspace umbrella. Now I can fly there legally.

Clients trust me more. When someone hires me for aerial photography, they want to know the person flying is professional and legal. Having that certificate is a credential that matters.

I'm a safer pilot. This is maybe the most important one. Understanding where other aircraft are flying, how to read weather, and what the rules exist to prevent — that knowledge makes me a more careful, aware operator.

Should You Get Your Part 107?

If you're a photographer who flies a drone for anything beyond pure personal recreation, the answer is yes — unambiguously yes. The fine for commercial flight without a certificate can run to $32,666 per violation. More importantly, the knowledge you gain actually makes you a better, safer pilot.

The exam itself is achievable with genuine study effort. You don't need a background in aviation. You need patience with dense material, a willingness to memorize symbology and abbreviations, and a few practice exams to calibrate your weak spots.

I passed on my first attempt, and I'm glad I did it. The Columbia River delta looks different from 300 feet up — and now I can capture it legally, professionally, and safely.

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Ivan Storck is a Pacific Northwest photographer specializing in aerial, landscape, and wildlife photography. He is FAA Part 107 certified and a member of the Professional Photographers of America. If you have questions about drone photography in the Pacific Northwest, feel free to reach out via the contact page.