Aviation Journal

Winter Flying

2007-09-03T06:18:00.000-04:00

With careful preparation, cold-weather flying can be great fun.

By Michael Vivion

Winter—it’s cold, it’s dark and sometimes it seems like spring will never come. But, lots of pilots live in cold country, and there’s no sense letting our airplanes sit idle all winter. Although it takes more effort and better preparation, winter flying can indeed be tolerable and sometimes even downright fun. So, if you’re up for the challenge, let’s consider some things you can do to mitigate the effects of winter and enjoy some flying.

A heated hangar is hands down the best gift you can give yourself and your airplane. It allows you to preflight in comfort under good lighting. Outdoor pre-flights at minus-20 degrees F can be more “concise” than might be preferable. A hangar prevents ice or snow accumulation between flights, and the slush that accumulates on the airplane’s floorboards can evaporate in a warm hangar.

An unheated hangar isn’t quite as nice as a heated one, but it still has advantages over parking outside. You won’t need to apply wing, windshield and tail covers, or secure the controls and attach tiedowns every time you park. It’s still important, however, to carry a full set of covers in case you have to park outdoors en route because of a weather delay. You should always be prepared to land and wait out weather, and having the proper equipment on board makes the decision to land at a strange airport easier.

An insulated engine cover is essential. If you park outdoors during a stop for lunch or weather, an insulated cover will keep the engine warm enough to restart, even at temperatures well below zero. An engine cover also helps with preheating. If the airplane lives outdoors or in a cold hangar, it needs an engine preheat system. In really cold country a full electric preheat system, such as those manufactured by Reiff or Tanis, is your best choice. Combined with an insulated engine cover, these heaters will ensure that your engine is thoroughly warm when you’re ready to fly. In milder temperatures, a less complex heating system may suffice.

If your tiedown has no electricity, a blast heater such as the Red Dragon, or a generator to operate your electric heater are other options. Blast heaters warm the engine quickly, so while the cylinders may be warm, the engine’s core may still be cold. Give the heat time to normalize throughout the engine by allowing plenty of time for it to thoroughly preheat before a flight. Most engine manufacturers suggest that you preheat when temperatures reach around 10 degrees F. Personally, if it’s at or below the freezing point, I always preheat.

If you didn’t get your wing and tail covers on quite soon enough and your plane is covered with snow or ice, what do you do? If it’s heavy ice, move the aircraft into a heated hangar, let it melt and dry completely. If it’s loose snow that hasn’t thawed and refrozen, a push broom with soft bristles will remove most of the contamination.

How much snow or ice is acceptable for flight? In reality, for total safety, none. But that’s a decision each pilot has to make for him or herself. At the very least, the safest bet is to remove all contamination from the flying surfaces. By using a broom or rope, you may be able to polish simple frost on the wings to a surface smooth enough for safe flight.

Another option for deicing is to keep a small garden sprayer at home with a half-gallon of RV antifreeze in it. Before you head to the airport, top off the sprayer with hot tap water and spray the entire plane with this deicing fluid mixture.

Engine oil is a subject of much debate. I like multigrade oils. If you prefer straight-weight oils, be certain to change to a slightly lower viscosity in the fall, when temperatures start dropping. It’s always safest to use the grades of oil recommended by the engine’s manufacturer.

Engine manufacturers suggest that you get your engine’s oil temperature to at least 180 degrees for 20 minutes any time you fly. This will allow the heat to eliminate any moisture in the oil. There may be nothing wrong with using duct tape to cover half your oil cooler in cold weather, but a better approach is to install the manufacturer’s recommended winterization kit. If your aircraft has no approved winterization kit, ask your mechanic for the safest way to get the airplane’s oil temperatures into the recommended range.

Make absolutely certain that your engine oil breather line has a “whistle slot” or supplemental breather hole, somewhere high inside the cowling. Your oil breather line opening will freeze over in cold weather. A supplemental breather hole will prevent pressurization of the engine case from pushing the nose seal out of your engine, and loss of engine oil.

Okay, the airplane is ready, but how about the pilot? Flying in winter offers some of the best flying weather of the year: no thunderstorms, generally good visibility and more. Yet it can also leave you in the dark and cold. Each pilot who flies in winter should have a good warm coat, boots, hat and gloves in the plane or better yet, on their person. Good-quality, winter-weight long underwear is a necessity in very cold country.

I consider a survival kit to be essential in the winter, plus a good winter sleeping bag and insulated sleeping pad for each occupant. I also carry a minimal selection of survival items on my person, in the event I have to depart the plane in a hurry. If you “arrive” somewhere off airport it may take a while for help to come. I consider a good knife, fire starters, a signal mirror and some parachute cord to be an absolute minimum kit to carry on one’s person.

One of the new 406 mHz personal locator beacons (PLB) is a great addition to your personal survival gear, though they’re a bit expensive and bulky. My Alaskan friend Ray Tremblay used to say, “Survival gear is whatever you have in your pockets when you go out the door. That bag of stuff in the back of the airplane is camping gear, not survival gear.” Don’t forget the cell phone—it could save the day.

The pilot should be current in the airplane, for both day and night. Winter days are short, and a minor weather divert can push your landing into darkness. You did check the aircraft’s lights (including panel lights) prior to takeoff, right?

Utilize all the weather information you can find. My ideal weather briefing is done in front of an Internet-connected computer, on the phone with an AFSS briefer. It’s easy to miss subtle points in a weather briefing, so having a second opinion can be invaluable. Local NOTAMs can be critical to safety, and there’s only one source for local NOTAM information: the Automated Flight Service Station.

For a more experienced pilot, flying on and off ice can be done safely, albeit with extreme caution. If there were any crosswind, I wouldn’t fly from glare ice. With a wind straight down the runway, or no wind, flying with minimal braking action can be done safely, but it’s still not a good idea. Being conservative about distances required to land and stop, and being able to land the airplane precisely where you want to land it, every time, is essential. If you get sloppy when it’s icy, you’re in for some pain.

In some conditions, you can’t even stand up on the ramp because of ice. In such a case, it might be a great day to find a warm fire and a good book, and read about aviation. Remember, flying is as much a thinking game as it is a set of physical skills, so keep your mind engaged in aviation as well.

So, how do we knock some of the rust off during these long winter months and keep our airplane operational?

If you’re operating a tailwheel airplane, consider installing skis. Ski flying is more fun than you can stand—really! You’ll have more freedom and more challenges. Straight skis are limiting at many airports, since management removes snow and ice from taxiways and runways. However, penetration or retractable skis offer the flexibility to operate from bare pavement as well as snow-covered terrain.

If your plane isn’t a taildragger, or you simply aren’t into airport operations, look for short day-trips close to home base. Upon arrival at your “target,” fly a couple of patterns with landings. Back at your home airport, fly a few more patterns. This is especially valuable at night, when most of us don’t get enough practice.

I may not have convinced you to fly twice a week this winter, but with just a bit of preparation, you’ll find that winter flying on nice days can be really enjoyable and rewarding.

From The Editor: Red-Tailed Angels

2007-09-02T07:48:00.000-04:00

I Can’t Understand Can’t

By Jeff Berlin

In what has turned into an unintentional theme this issue, I seem to have focused on, twice, people or groups that broke new ground in aviation. They were, in some way, told that they couldn’t or shouldn’t, or that it was unusual or possibly inappropriate, to fly. Not only did these people and groups fly, and prove wrong the legions of naysayers, defeatists and perpetuators of negative stereotypes, but they each rose to legendary status in aviation lore.

One story began at the Tuskegee Army Air Field in Tuskegee, Ala. In 1941, 13 young black men enlisted in the Army Air Corps to become America’s first black airmen. At the time, many thought black men such as these noble aviation cadets lacked the intelligence, courage, skill, discipline and patriotism to become pilots and serve the United States. These cadets passed the same stringent physical and intellectual exams as any typical airman applicant, and once accepted to the program, they then had to earn their wings while fighting against an undercurrent of racism. In March of 1942, five of the initial 13 completed the training.

Over the next few years, another 994 pilots graduated to become Tuskegee Airmen, and of those 994, 450 were commissioned to operations overseas in either the 99th Pursuit (Fighter) Squadron or the 332nd Fighter Group. Earlier this year, the Tuskegee Airmen were finally recognized with the Congressional Gold Medal, our nation’s highest civilian award bestowed by Congress. On page 68, the son of an Airman who attended the ceremony at the Capitol gives us some background on the Red Tails and recounts that special day. As I’ve said on these pages before, aviation is infused with history, and there are lessons for us all in the history of the Tuskegee Airmen.

It makes sense that one of air show star Patty Wagstaff’s idols is legendary aviatrix Jackie Cochran. In her day, Cochran set more speed and altitude records than any other pilot, period—male or female—winning an astounding 14 Harmon Trophies in the process, and more than 200 awards and trophies total. She also led the Women’s Air Force Service Pilots (WASPs) during World War II and received the U.S. Distinguished Service Medal for her efforts. After the war, in 1952, Cochran became the first woman to break the sound barrier, piercing Mach 1 in an F-86 Sabre Jet. And while Cochran wasn’t one of the Mercury 13, the women who passed the same tests that NASA administered to its male astronaut candidates, she lobbied for equal opportunity—the opportunity to go to space.

Fast-forward to summer 2007 and another female pilot who has set records, won numerous decorations and awards for her own fancy flying, and is now an inspiration to young women and people everywhere, including this editor—air show superstar, Patty Wagstaff. Flying was in Wagstaff’s blood from day one, as her father was a captain for Japan Air Lines, and it was through her father that her love affair with aviation was kindled. Those glowing embers that were sparked during Wagstaff’s childhood have grown into a raging aviation inferno that has taken her from Alaska in 1979 and her first flying lesson in a Cessna 185 floatplane to three consecutive titles as U.S. National Aerobatic Champion, in 1991, 1992 and 1993—the first woman to do so, and one of the very few, male or female, to do it three times. In 1994, her Extra 260 was put on display in the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum’s Pioneers of Flight gallery next to Amelia Earhart’s red Lockheed 5B Vega and Lindbergh’s Lockheed 8 Sirius. Like Cochran, Wagstaff experienced skepticism and chauvinism throughout her storied career, and pushed through it to achieve a stellar level of achievement. On page 40, you too can take this National Aviation Hall of Fame inductee’s fire-breathing Extra 300 show plane for the proverbial spin and fly like a champion.

CZAW Sport Cruiser: Top-Of-The-Line LSA

2007-09-01T07:48:00.000-04:00

The Sport Cruiser brings features to LSAs that are normally reserved for full-sized, general aviation aircraft.

By Bill Cox
Photos By James Lawrence

Since the official advent of LSAs at Sun ’n Fun 2005, the type has taken off beyond the wildest dreams of its developers. It seems there’s some kind of LSA on virtually every airport ramp these days. In view of the type’s popularity, LSA designers have looked for ways to push right up against the allowable limits of certification. The type is limited to 600 kg (1,320 pounds) gross weight, can’t carry more than two folks and can’t exceed a cruise speed of 120 knots. Additionally, it must rest on fixed gear and fly behind a fixed-pitch or ground-adjustable prop.

The whole idea was safety. Keep the airplane simple, comparatively slow and lightweight, and there will be fewer accidents (those that do occur will inflict less injuries).

One of the designs that has succeeded in approaching the certification limits is the CZAW (Czech Aircraft Works) Sport Cruiser, introduced in 2006 and already sold in 17 countries. The Sport Cruiser is manufactured in the Czech Republic and distributed in the States by Sport Aircraft Works (www.sportaircraftworks.com) of Palm City, Fla. This slick and swept little airplane looks something like the old Glasair FG, but with only a 100 hp Rotax engine out front, its speed is limited to the requisite 120-knot max.

The Sport Cruiser is produced at Kunovice Airport, where European entry-level airplanes have been built and sold for years. CZAW produces a variety of lightweight amphibious and land-based aircraft, and there’s nothing amateurish about either the conception or construction of its airplanes.

In the case of the Sport Cruiser, CZAW offers you a choice of a prebuilt airplane or a Quick Build Kit. Should you opt for the latter, you can expect to spend about 400 hours in construction time and save $34,500 in the process, about half of the fully assembled price. The task is strictly one of assembly, not fabrication. (Yes, the CZAW kit does comply with the FAA’s 51% rule.)

Regardless of whether you build it yourself or buy a Sport Cruiser preassembled by the dealer, this LSA doesn’t spare the amenities. It features electric trim for pitch and roll, electric flaps, a ground-adjustable, three-blade composite prop, in-flight-adjustable rudder pedals and a huge cabin by LSA standards.

The canopy hinges at the front and opens to reveal a generous front office. Roll and pitch control are with conventional sticks mounted well forward of the twin bucket seating positions. Those seats are installed with a transom between them, a function of the 46.5-inch-wide cabin. Headroom doesn’t receive short shrift either. There’s enough vertical space to accommodate a six-foot, two-inch pilot and passenger without brushing their heads against the carbon-fiber, Plexiglas canopy structure. Primary baggage storage is in the turtledeck behind the pilots.

The Sport Cruiser is all metal, both for simplicity of construction and to help allay the fears of pilots concerned about fiberglass durability. Landing gear may be slickly enclosed with speed fairings that contribute as much as three knots to cruise. The Sport Cruiser also features something unheard of among other LSAs, wing lockers. CZAW mounts the lockers just outboard of the wing walks. The square lockers are positioned mid-chord at the airfoil’s thickest point and hold 40 fairly flat pounds of whatever per side.

Like most aircraft in the class, the Sport Cruiser uses a 100 hp Rotax 912, by far the most popular engine for LSAs. (The 120 hp Jabiru 3300 is another option.) Either way, the basic Sport Cruiser offers a useful load in excess of 550 pounds, which means the airplane can lift full fuel (30 gallons), two 170-pound people and 30 pounds of baggage.

CZAW brags that the airplane can leap skyward at 1,200 fpm, and even if that’s a tad wishful, the airplane can manage an easy initial 1,000 fpm, not bad for only 100 hp. Cruise performance is also impressive, 110 to 115 knots on only 4.5 gph. For those who choose the Rotax engine, endurance is around five hours plus reserve. That’s longer than most folks are willing to sit in an airplane without a pit stop, but for those with the necessary endurance, the Sport Cruiser will transport them well over the horizon.

Range at high cruise is reminiscent of that in a Skyhawk, 575 nm plus reserve. Pull back the throttle to max economy settings and you can extend that to 640 nm plus reserve. Control response is good in roll, better in pitch and reasonable in yaw. The airplane flies heavier than it looks. There’s not much adverse yaw, and you can carve turns up to about 60 degrees with feet on the floor and the ball still in the center.

This makes long flights not only possible but also fun. The difference between this LSA and some of the others is that you might not mind sitting in a Sport Cruiser for several hours. The big cabin doesn’t demand rubbing elbows, and there’s plenty of room to move around inside the cockpit. Visibility is excellent in virtually all directions. Overall, the Sport Cruiser perhaps comes closest to a normal category two-seater.

The Sport Cruiser’s large wing might suggest a low stall speed, and the airplane’s bottom number is 32 knots. That’s a virtual guarantee of impressive short-field performance. The airplane was originally designed to be operated from grass strips in Europe, so the comparatively long, paved runways of the States are almost ridiculously accommodating. The official numbers are practically in the STOL category, 400 feet for landing and 360 feet for takeoff.

The Sport Cruiser sells for a base price well below $100,000, but the optional level of avionics sophistication can drive the price well north of that figure. Like many other LSAs (and a few certified airplanes), the basic radio package is based around the Garmin 296/396/496 with the Air Gizmos panel mount. Combine that with a Garmin SL30 navcom and a Garmin 330 transponder plus an intercom, and you have an avionics stack that offers single nav and com, GPS, XM Satellite Weather, terrain warnings and even TIS (Traffic Information Service) uplink. You can also add a number of other boxes to include EFIS, autopilot and rate-of-climb/altitude preselect.

Base price of the standard Sport Cruiser with the 100 hp Rotax engine is $79,500. CZAW also offers perhaps the ultimate safety feature, a BRS recovery chute, for an additional $4,995. That’s a significant increase to the sales price, and it does reduce your payload, but it may be worth it if it saves your life even once.

Don’t be surprised if an increasing number of the LSAs you see parked and flying at your home airport are Sport Cruisers. It’s about as close as you can come to a standard general aviation airplane without a type certificate.

Bad Girl

2007-08-31T07:48:00.000-04:00

Flying Patty Wagstaff’s “girly” Extra 300S

By Keoki Gray
Photos By James Lawrence

Opportunity Knocks
There I sat as the consequence of a misunderstanding, watching the ground drop away at a satisfyingly rapid rate. I anticipated a high nose attitude, but still underestimated and had to keep pulling back on the stick—even while setting the throttle and prop to “25 squared” out of concern for the noise-sensitive airport neighbors. I tried to hold 90 knots and reached the end of the 5,000-foot-long runway passing through 1,100 AGL. And the plane wasn’t even trying!

So how does an underemployed acro instructor and airport rat wrangle a ride in one of the air show industry’s hottest birds? It goes something like this…

Patty Wagstaff is a long-time, dear friend. Jay Land and his son Alex are flying buddies of both Patty and me. They have an Extra 300L in their stable and had recently acquired a Sukhoi Su-26. Jay e-mailed pictures of the Sukhoi’s new paint. I’m a big Sukhoi fan, so I replied that if “it” needed to be exercised, I’d be happy to do what I could. I copied the e-mail to Patty, along with the pictures.

First I got a response from Jay, who assumed I meant that I’d exercise their Extra; Alex was going to have first dibs on the Sukhoi. The same day I got an e-mail from Patty; she thought I meant exercising her Extra.

I’ve teased Patty for years—being a Sukhoi snob—that the Extra is a girly airplane. Well, I may be a snob, but I’m not an idiot, so after the 2006 NAS Jacksonville Air Show in Florida concluded, Patty’s crew chief and ferry pilot, Gene Powers, delivered one slightly used Extra to our airport. It was safely tucked into the T-hangar with my Pitts S2A, and I had some time to think about what had just happened. A clear schedule and good weather presented themselves a few days later.

Flight One: Basic Introduction
Starting the new Lycoming IO-580 required prolonged priming that would have easily flooded most other injected engines. Even so, it took two tries to get enough fuel to the injectors. Once running, the engine settled into a nice, hefty idle.

The rudder pedals have stirrups, and the toe brakes were right under the balls of my feet. I made sure to butt my heels against the lower portions of the pedal assemblies to remain clear of the brakes. It would be good practice for later.

The run-up and takeoff were all standard, except that when this airplane is ready to go, it goes! The rudder had lots of authority from the start of the roll and remained light, powerful and immediately responsive throughout the entire flight.

The wing tanks still had between 20 and 25 gallons of fuel, so any acro had to be limited to just +6/-3 G’s. But this was only an introductory flight; hard G was unnecessary. I tried the ailerons on the way out of the pattern and found them delightfully responsive, even with the “burdensome” mass of wing fuel. Getting a 30-plus-degree bank took such little time that the stick didn’t even reach half-travel—just a split-second pulse, and the bank was there. The Extra reached 3,000 feet AGL less than 5 nm from liftoff and leveled off at “24 cubed” (24-inch MAP, 2,400 rpm and 24 gph fuel flow). Patty said the IO-580 was thirsty, but this was ridiculous. Fortunately, the mixture came way back without the EGT going above 1,200 degrees, and the fuel flow settled down to about 17 or 18 gph. The ASI sat firmly at the top of the green arc—158 knots—affirming that this was a fast, overpowered hot rod. The wing fuel had to be burned out, so little attention was spent trying to lean to an ideal mixture setting.

I started with some mild, smooth acro: aileron rolls, barrel rolls, a loop and a wingover. The ability to sustain G was phenomenal, and the G squeeze lasted much longer than in the S2A. The over-the-top maneuvers peaked at more than 1,000 feet above their entry altitudes and felt effortlessly liquid, especially compared to the Pitts. All this at a medium cruise setting of between 20 and 24 inches of MAP—and with wing fuel! Oh, my...

Because aerobatic pilots have to manipulate the angle of attack with finesse and accuracy, I thought a stall or two might be in order. So with the area cleared, power came to idle and I eased the stick back. The airplane is slick enough that the pitch rate was too fast, resulting in a climb. When it finally let go at less than 60 KIAS, the airflow was plainly audible as it detached from the canopy. It sounded like a breeze whispering through bedsheets on a clothesline. The wing behaved well enough that it maintained aileron control. I added power—10 inches MAP—and put it into a 40-degree left bank. It flew at 60 to 65 KIAS. Throttle was forward to 24 squared and the nose up to 40-plus degrees. When it stalled in this configuration, the airplane had more than enough rudder to maintain directional control. Easing the nose down slightly got the Extra flying again. The power-on stall had netted more than 1,500 feet.

More positive G maneuvers followed; loops, rolls, barrels, modified half-Cubans and reverse half-Cubans, and wingovers (90 and 180 degrees of bank) just kept flowing. The power remained between 20 and 24 inches and the prop at 2,400 rpm; still the airplane gained altitude. A full-deflection aileron roll was next flown in an effort to track the roll rate. After four or five linked rolls, I couldn’t trust my mental timing, but the roll rate was easily 300 to 360 degrees per second. Even with partial power and the heavy fuel load, we were soon at 5,000 feet.

ATC called us out as traffic to another aircraft. I held an orbit at first, then settled on a straight course roughly east-bound. I still couldn’t find the traffic, and the other airplane didn’t see me either. (Two-dimensional thinking wasn’t working.) Full power, pitch up for a climb and the Extra went from 5,000 to 6,000 feet in well under a minute. Just then, we spotted each other with more than adequate clearance.

After a few more maneuvers, it was time to head back for landing. Power was back to 16 to 17 inches for the descent and the traffic pattern. Upon reaching the abeam point on the downwind, the throttle came back even further, and a descending turn began. Between modulating the power and manipulating the turn, we arrived over the numbers and flared to the landing attitude. There was lots of control authority in all three axes. Some ratcheting showed in pitch and, to a lesser extent, in yaw—my problem, not the plane’s. But the touchdown was anticlimactic, just as in the Extras and Sukhois I’ve flown before. Aircraft in this class all seem to have great ground manners.

I did two more landings, and found that with the throttle at idle, the plane came down as steeply as the S2A—maybe more so. (There’s massive drag in that prop.) The nose was higher than the Pitts’ landing attitude, but without the top wing, there was the illusion of better visibility. The crosswind drifted us right of center, but that was again my fault and not the airplane’s.

Lots of information in only 42 minutes!

Flight Two: Subjective Handling Review
The second flight was less formal; its purpose was to get a subjective feel for the control, handling and authority of this bad girl. But first a baseline comparison was necessary, so it was off to fly the Pitts. I chose a simple sequence that was also familiar—the 2006 IAC Sportsman Knowns:

• Shark’s tooth
• Immelmann
• One-turn upright spin
• Reverse shark’s tooth
• Slow roll
• Half-Cuban eight
• Loop
• Hammerhead
• Two-point slow roll
• Aerobatic turn, 270

This sequence normally required around 1,000 feet to fly in the S2A, the big loser being the spin—no way to make up the altitude once the little biplane was through that. On the other hand, it didn’t cost more altitude after the spin, either.

Again flying at less than full throttle (25-squared, I believe), the Extra showed her “overpowered” side by gaining back the altitude lost in the spin and then gaining a bit more. The maneuvers felt easier and less rushed, even though the increased speed gobbled up the box faster than the S2A. Years ago, Patty told me about her first Extra 230. She said flying monoplanes after biplanes seemed like “moving through a fluid,” making things effortless and maintaining energy throughout figures. I certainly found that to be true of the 300S.

The time in the vertical was sublime. Not only did the airplane have much better vertical penetration than the Pitts, but it possessed a much superior “hang time” as well. The pitch control across the tops, even in the tight shark’s tooth, was more than adequate. The roll rate off the Immelmann was quick and crisp. The loop was large, the hammerhead delightful and the roll rates rapier-swift. All-in-all, there was excellent control that made the sequence seem much easier to fly.

Flight Three: In The Box
I wanted to fly two additional, familiar sequences to again compare the performance with my Pitts and to let me evaluate this airplane against some “known territory.”

I did some warm-up maneuvers first. The wing fuel was finally gone, so I got to quantify the vertical performance. From 185 knots at 6 G’s at the pull, the altimeter showed 2,000 feet of vertical. Increasing that to the 220-knot red line at 6.5 G’s yielded 2,500 feet AGL before a quick hammerhead.

The first sequence was the proposed 2007 Intermediate sequence, which includes such maneuvers as an Immelmann with a two-point roll on top, a snap roll, a hammerhead with a 1⁄4 roll on the upline and a shark’s tooth with a two-point roll on the 45-degree downline. (I found this routine fun to fly.)

My personal solo sequence usually includes eight minutes of 29 air show maneuvers. Rather than a list of figures, let me say that overall, I was impressed with how easy the routine was to fly in the monoplane. While it’s all I can do to squeeze this sequence out of the S2A, the 300S left me with enough surplus energy to spontaneously add rolls here and there. The “set time” between maneuvers, or between segments of the maneuvers themselves, was much longer. This, in turn, made the rhythm of the sequence less hectic and more deliberate. The contrast between the Pitts and the Extra was the difference between work and play.

Then, for fun, I flew spontaneous figures as the plane moved through the aerobatic box. If the altitude got low, I used a maneuver that gained it. If the speed was high, I was able to draw long up-lines or perform multiple snap rolls on top. With the capability of the 300S, it was easy to string a sequence together that utilized each and every corner of the box in an ebb and flow. All in all, it was a great way to end our brief time together. The landing even worked out well.
Is this 300S a bad girl? Yeah. But is she “girly”? Let’s see...electrically adjusted rudder pedals? Girly. Rudder pedal stirrups? Not girly. Autopilot turn coordinator—with no autopilot? Girly. Blinding control response? Not girly. Weather strike finder? Girly. All-attitude military-style mini-horizon gyro? Not girly.

If this plane were a woman, she’d wear black leather and ride a Harley. She could bench-press 250. If you’re nice to her, she might show you her tattoo; if you’re not nice, she might just punch you in the face.

So it would be worth your while to treat her well and learn her ways. She’ll respond to respectful handling and repay you in kind. She may be “bad,” she may be a “girl,” but she’s definitely not girly. She’s all woman, all business and worth every minute.

Ovation3: Reaching For 200

2007-08-30T07:47:00.000-04:00

Mooney’s new Ovation3 pushes the cruise-speed battle closer to 200 knots—without a turbocharger

By Bill Cox

Photos By James Lawrence

On the face of it, retractable gear seems almost an ideal solution to the problem of making an airplane fly faster. The whole idea is to reduce drag and increase cruise; cleaning up the underwing accomplishes that mission, though with varying levels of success.

Some models realize as much as a 10% speed improvement, others a little less. The Cessna Skylane RG enjoys a 14-knot advantage over the stiff-legged model, as does the Cardinal RG over the stock Cardinal. Piper’s Lance outruns the down-and-welded Cherokee Six 300 by 12 knots, and the original 180 hp Arrow typically enjoys a 15-knot advantage over the Archer.

Retractable gear doesn’t hold all the aces, however. There are some
trade-offs necessary to realize the benefits of putting the wheels to bed. In contrast to well-faired, fixed-gear airplanes, retractable gear can introduce a variety of compromises; for example, there may be reduced ground stability, greater complexity, additional empty weight, higher maintenance costs, increased pilot workload, reduced structural integrity and less wing space for fuel.

In the normally aspirated class, manufacturers such as Diamond, Columbia and Cirrus have proven that by doing their aerodynamic homework, they can field quick, fixed-gear singles, sometimes capable of matching the best efforts of the retractable competition.

Of course, none of this has escaped Mooney Airplane Company, builder of perhaps the most iconic retractables in the industry. Mooney’s two tentative ventures into fixed-gear models, the Aircoupe/Cadet and the Master, were dismal failures. The Kerrville, Texas, company correctly concluded that it should concentrate on doing what it does best—building the world’s fastest, most efficient, single-engine, piston airplanes.

That title has been in question for the last two years. Columbia Aircraft offered the turbocharged Columbia 400 and claimed that it was the new speed champ. Arguably, Mooney reassumed the title late last year with the new Acclaim, a 280 hp version of the Bravo with a new Continental TSIO-550G engine out front, small winglets on the tips and a number of other less significant changes.

This left the normally aspirated Ovation2 to deal with the Cirrus SR22-G3 and the Columbia 350. Certainly, one of the quickest and easiest methods of increasing the knot count was simply more horsepower.

By itself, horsepower is probably the least efficient method for improving cruise speed, but it can offer some peripheral benefits, such as better climb, shorter runway requirements and, in some cases, improved high-altitude performance. Although horsepower alone does generate more speed, the relationship is far from proportionate.

In this case, Mooney borrowed a page from Cirrus by adopting an STC’d mod rather than expending the huge amounts of money normally required to recertify an airplane. Working with Midwest Mooney of Flora, Ill., holder of the power upgrade STC, Mooney bumped power on the Ovation from 280 to 310 hp. That’s, perhaps, only fair since it’s the rating of the same Continental IO-550G engine used in both the Cirrus and Columbia applications. Mooney has effectively streamlined production by adopting the Continental 550 for all three models.

In fact, the IO-550 engine, in both normally aspirated and turbocharged trim, is rapidly finding favor with more and more aircraft manufacturers. Columbia, Cirrus, Beech and now Mooney have embraced the 550 as their standard piston powerplant.

I flew a ferry-time-only Ovation3 with Lee Uecker, Mooney’s new regional sales representative for California. His company, curiously named California Mooney, is based in Santa Maria, halfway up the West Coast, and Uecker agreed to bring the airplane down to Long Beach for a few hours of fun and editorial investigation.

Though I’m far from an expert on the Ovation, I have more than a passing acquaintance with the type. Back in the ’90s, I delivered about a dozen M20Rs overseas, logging about 600 hours in the process. One went to Durban, South Africa, one to Athens, Greece, and I delivered the other 10 (along with two Bravos and a pair of MSEs) to Graham Lowry-Jones, then Mooney distributor for Australia. Most deliveries Down Under went to Bankstown in Sydney, though a few were scattered around to Melbourne, Dubbo and Adelaide.

Fortunately, my flight with Uecker didn’t involve a 110-gallon tank in the rear seat or a 2,200 nm ferry flight. Instead, we spent a pleasant afternoon driving the plane down the California coast to San Diego for Mexican food and we took a circuitous course back to Long Beach in time for dinner.

The standard Ovation was an excellent climber, but with 30 additional horsepower under the bonnet, the new Ovation3 offers even better ascent. As you might expect, climb performance is nearly always the first beneficiary of more power. With two folks aboard and three-quarters fuel in the tanks, a typical load, Uecker and I leaped out of Long Beach at an initial 1,200 fpm, all the more impressive considering that density altitude at sea level was 2,300 feet. Service ceiling is a tall 20,000 feet, so you should see good climb even at density altitudes above 10,000 feet.

It’s unlikely I’ll ever need to fly an Ovation across an ocean at 900
pounds over gross again, but I’ll bet the new airplane would climb away with even greater ease than the Ovation2s I delivered in the ’90s.

Of course, the overriding question remains—how fast is it? Turbocharged airplanes punched through the 200-knot barrier long ago, but normally aspirated models have been challenged to fly much quicker than 185 knots. The original 1994 Ovation boosted cruise to the neighborhood of 190 knots, and the later Cirrus SR22 and Columbia 350 scored close to those numbers six years later.

Without benefit of thin air in the flight levels, however, the 200-knot ideal remains a major aerodynamic challenge. (Even the Comanche 400 with, you guessed it, 400 hp on the nose, could manage only about 185 knots.) Now, Mooney has upped the ante a step closer to that ideal.

We had a hot day with a typical Los Angeles inversion on the day of the test flight, so temperatures were well above standard for the bottom two vertical miles. I high-jumped to 9,500 feet over the Catalina Channel and let the airplane accelerate for several minutes. After speed had stabilized, TAS worked out to 188 knots at a density altitude of 12,300 feet. That was obviously far above optimum height, equal to about 55% power, so we began reducing the cruise altitude 1,000 feet at a time in search of the magic max cruise height.

Seventy-five percent altitude worked out to an unusually low 5,500 feet where the temperature was still a surprising 30 degrees C. That generated a density altitude of 8,400 feet and a max true airspeed of 194 knots. Mooney’s spec is 197 knots under ideal conditions, which we most definitely didn’t have on the day of my flight.

In other words, at this writing, the Ovation3 would appear to be the world’s fastest, normally aspirated, piston, production single. Period. Now, if Mooney can come up with a few aerodynamic tweaks, it just may have the first normally aspirated, piston single to break 200 knots at cruise.

The race isn’t always to the fastest, however. My transpacific experience suggests the basic Ovation is capable of remarkable efficiency up high at 55%, about 165 knots on 12.5 gph, and with slightly more horsepower and a little more altitude, the Ovation3 will probably do even better. On those 7,000 nm Santa Barbara-to-Sydney ferry trips in the Ovations, I carried the standard 89 gallons in the wings, 110 gallons in the aft ferry tank and 30 gallons in the copilot tank. At 15 gph, I had just over 15 hours’ endurance at an average 180 knots cruise.

Pulled back to 55%, I could run an easy 165 to 170 knots for 17 hours’ endurance. (Thank you, God, for never requiring me to fly that long.) That made the Ovation the second most efficient airplane I’d ever ferried. (First was the Mooney MSE.) In light wind conditions, I typically arrived in Honolulu with a solid 3.5 hours’ reserve, again second best only to the MSE.

The new Ovation3 boosts standard fuel from 89 to 102 gallons and offers an option that pushes total capacity to a staggering 130 gallons. In theory, this extends the Ovation3’s range to more than 1,500 nm. That’s New Orleans to Los Angeles or Miami to Minneapolis. Talk about seven-league boots.

Of course, as you may have already guessed, you can carry a string quartet of people or copious fuel, but not both. The upgrade from 280 to 310 hp doesn’t cost you any extra empty weight, because the engine is essentially the same, only less derated. Useful load on the demonstrator was 1,002 pounds, so payload with a full 102-gallon service amounts to 390 pounds, two pilots plus baggage. Increase fuel to the optional 130 gallons, and you’d have to settle for about 220 paying pounds.

Okay, that isn’t necessarily such a bad thing when you consider that many pilots fly Mooneys alone or with only one other person aboard. Still, if you must aviate with the standard 680 pounds of people in the buckets, you’ll need to limit fuel to about 50 gallons, two hours plus reserve, as long as most groups of four can stand each other, anyway.

That’s not because there’s anything claustrophobic about the Ovation3’s cabin. The size of the Mooney cockpit has been unfairly criticized for years. It measures 43.5 inches wide at the elbows by 44.5 inches tall, and that’s better than the old F33A Bonanza’s enclosure, often held up as a paragon of aeronautical virtue. (The straight-tailed Bonanzas were fast, wonderful-handling airplanes, but their cabins were more than a little horizontally challenged.) Conversely, both the Columbia and Cirrus models are at least 48 inches wide, and a comparable measure tall.

Mooney has embraced the Garmin G1000 as standard equipment on the Ovation3, and the bottom line is $469,000. Actually, that’s more accurately the top line. You can still add such options as Stormscope, SkyWatch, TKS ice protection, air-conditioning, the Monroy long-range tanks, oxygen and a chandelier. Load the airplane with all those options and you’ll be pushing $600,000. You’ll also wind up with a payload of less than 200 pounds.

And who cares. You’ll be able to blaze by everything else in the sky fitted with only one piston engine and no turbo. That alone ought to be worth something.

Get The Balance Right

2007-08-29T07:47:00.000-04:00

If you think weight and balance are boring and unimportant, you need to read the following.

By Bill Cox

It was 1985, and I was refueling a Cessna 425 Conquest I at Tenerife in the Canary Islands on my way to Johannesburg, South Africa. I’d instructed the fueler to fill the wing tanks first, then begin topping the three 110-gallon internal ferry tanks starting with the front tank. I turned away to fill out the necessary paperwork, heard the pump running for a few minutes and as I finished the fuel request, heard a sickening crunch behind me.

I turned around to discover that my big Cessna turboprop twin had become a taildragger. The airplane had fallen back onto its tailcone, crushing the tail tiedown ring up into the aluminum and suspending the nosewheel high in the air. The fueler was still standing precariously on the airplane’s airstair bottom clamshell, its aft lip now resting against the ramp. He was holding the fuel hose in his hand, obviously confused by what had just happened.

It was all too obvious. He’d climbed up onto the airstair and begun refueling the first tank he saw, in this case, the aft ferry tank. With wing fuel well down and the three ferry tanks empty, the result was inevitable. Loading 730 pounds into the aft tank with so little in the front containers was more than the CG could handle.

It was my fault, of course. The young man actually doing the fueling spoke little English, and his supervisor hadn’t translated my instructions on how to fuel the airplane. On many delivery flights, we often fuel the ferry tanks ourselves to make certain there are no errors. I’d been complacent by counting on someone else to do it right.

Most weight-and-balance problems aren’t that dramatic, but many pilots are aware that improper balance can be deadly. Overloading is a no-no as well, but it’s usually more of a venial rather than a cardinal sin. Usually.

The airplane doesn’t know that it’s over the maximum allowable gross weight and may not manifest any noticeable differences in handling or performance until the overgross condition reaches about 5% to 10%, 150 to 300 pounds on a typical single. At that level, climb can become sluggish, service ceiling is reduced, stall speed rises and the airplane may lose five to 10 knots or more in cruise.

The heaviest I’ve flown above the limit was in a Beech Duke I ferried back and forth to Amman, Jordan and Abu Dhabi, UAE, a half-dozen times in the ’80s. Topped off with ferry fuel, the airplane was about 2,000 pounds over gross. Fortunately, the Duke handled the weight reasonably well because the ferry tanks were mounted at stations in the cabin that kept the extra fuel well forward. Still, the weight had a pronounced effect on all flight parameters. The Duke demanded at least half again its normal runway requirement (which was already substantial), lost at least half its normal climb and suffered an initial 30 knots to the heavy load, slowly accelerating to its normal speed at the end of the flight.

Flying overweight can present more problems than simply performance and handling, however, even if it’s only 100 pounds. Normal-category aircraft are certified for a maximum positive G-loading of 3.8. To use the simplest possible example, a 2,000-pound gross weight aircraft is approved for a G-load equivalent to roughly a 7,600-pound load (3.8x2,000). (Ultimate load is theoretically 1.5 times that, or 5.6 G’s, but that’s another story.) Increase the weight of the aircraft to 3,000 pounds, and allowable G-tolerance drops to approximately 2.5 (7,600/3,000). Double the weight to 4,000 pounds, and the G-limit is a mere 1.9.

Believe it or not, such a heavy loading isn’t unheard of. Back in the ’50s and ’60s, Max Conrad, a famous ocean flyer and former contributor to this magazine, flew his Comanche from Casablanca, Morocco, to Los Angeles, Calif., with an amazing 104% overload.

Under the best circumstances, a little extra weight may not present the problems you might imagine, though G-loads inside severe weather such as thunderstorms may easily reach destructive levels, no matter what the aircraft’s weight. Back in the last century, I installed a G-meter in a Globe Swift and was amazed at how little G was generated during what I regarded as moderate turbulence. In those days, I flew back and forth to the Reno Air Races up California’s Owens Valley. The bumps seemed spectacular, sometimes alternately slamming me into the seat, then bouncing charts, luggage and occasionally people off the ceiling. Before I installed the G-meter, I assumed the positive loads were three to four G’s. After I installed it, I was surprised to learn I was experiencing only 1.5 to 2 G’s maximum. In the four years I flew the Swift with the G-meter, I never registered more than 2 G’s. Although turbulence may not be the problem you imagined in terms of excess G-loading, it shouldn’t be ignored.

Overstressing the airframe in flight isn’t the only risk. Several times, I’ve been forced to return and land shortly after takeoff with a major fuel overload. The need to touch down with a load that’s 1,000 to 2,000 pounds over the limit gives you a strong incentive to grease it on. If you don’t do it right, the stress on the shock struts, brakes and aircraft center section can be well beyond the limits, resulting in destructive forces. I once saw a Cessna 402 parked on the ramp at Honolulu with the gear punched half way up into the wings from a poorly executed overweight landing.

For that very reason, many airplanes are saddled with maximum landing weights that may be several hundred pounds below the aircraft’s approved takeoff gross. The Piper Mirage has a max takeoff weight of 4,340 pounds and a max landing weight of 4,123 pounds. The majority of aircraft, especially single-engine models, concentrate the bulk of their weight in the fuselage and store their fuel in the wings, so another occasional limitation is “maximum except fuel,” a restriction on the amount of weight that may be concentrated in the aircraft center section. These limits usually apply to heavier twins. For the average pilot, most of these paperwork limits will rarely prove to be operational problems.

None of the above is to suggest that weight isn’t important, and it most definitely shouldn’t be construed as suggesting you should violate your airplane’s approved gross weight, not by one pound or 100, much less thousands as delivery pilots do regularly (under an FAA ferry permit). In addition to the obvious possible certificate action, insurance companies might use a known overgross condition to deny coverage in the event of an accident. The simple fact is that additional weight isn’t as liable to get you into serious trouble as is an unbalanced CG.

For that very reason, aircraft with ferry tanks installed are configured to keep the extra weight inside the envelope. Some models become less stable when you load them heavy and near the forward or aft limit. (To offer the pilot the option of carrying more fuel on an especially long leg, some ferry companies used to employ the expedient of installing 55-gallon drums with a placard on the aft tank that stipulated, “Maximum capacity 55 gallons, maximum allowable capacity 20 gallons” or whatever the appropriate number was to maintain a CG within limits. This left it up to a pilot concerned about strong headwinds to exceed the limit if he dared. No one ever said it was smart or legal, but if the winds weren’t cooperating, it often was the only way to get the job done.)

Senecas, Bonanzas and Malibus sometimes need a tailstand in ferry configuration to keep them from falling over on their tails during fueling (like my Conquest in Tenerife). A Seneca often will rest so low in the rear during taxi with all ferry tanks full that it will drag belly-mounted antennas on the asphalt. Load too much weight too far aft in a Malibu, and you may induce a very slight bending moment in the fuselage, not enough to see but enough to make it difficult to close the tight-fitting door.

I once escorted a pilot with a Malibu JetPROP on a round-trip voyage across the Atlantic from Monterey, Calif., to Berlin, Germany. The ferry tank wasn’t large, but it had been beautifully installed in the worst possible place: far back below the rear seat. The result was we had to carry a half-dozen precut, plywood tailstands to allow us to climb aboard, get the door closed, start the engine and taxi away without problems. This, of course, left the tailstand lying on the ramp. When we came back thru Iceland and Greenland, the rampers had saved our tailstands for us.

Another common problem for some airplanes in normal configuration is a tank location that moves the CG aft as fuel is burned off. Bonanzas store most of their fuel in the wing’s leading edge, a station that’s well forward of the typical CG location. This means, by definition, the CG moves aft as fuel is burned off. If you depart at max gross weight with full fuel in most four-place Bonanzas, the CG will slowly move toward the rear as you fly, and it may be beyond the aft limit if the flight is more than an hour or two. This can lead to unusual sensitivity in pitch and, in the worst case, a tendency to phugoid (or porpoise) on landing.

For that reason, you need to make two CG calculations for some Bonanzas, one for takeoff and another for landing. A standard rule for many Bonanza pilots is to keep the heaviest passengers as far forward as possible to prevent the CG from moving aft out of limits.

But don’t overdo it. Load too much weight too far forward, and the airplane may run out of both down elevator and trim and be difficult or impossible to flare. Any flap application may only exacerbate the problem, most often tending to pitch the nose farther down.

Conversely, a CG that’s near the limit isn’t always a bad thing. All airplanes benefit from an aft CG in terms of cruise speed. According to Jim LoPresti of LoPresti Speed Merchants in Vero Beach, Fla., loading the airplane as far aft as possible (but within the allowable limit) cuts drag by reducing the download on the tail, an airfoil designed to fly down as the wing flies up. This doesn’t mean you should fly with any more weight than you have to, by the way. On some airplanes, Jim commented, the difference between a max aft load and a more forward balance point can be three knots.

Many pilots, this one included, feel the Piper Cherokee Six and Saratoga models fly better with a more aft CG. Like the Malibu, the Six/Saratoga offers a nose baggage compartment to help balance the load. Piper is the only manufacturer of piston singles I can think of that provides such a hedge.

If there’s a message here somewhere, it may be that violating either weight or balance limits is a bad idea. Flying overweight can compromise all parameters of performance, and operating the aircraft outside the balance point can result in control problems that may be impossible to counter.

We like to think of flying as a relatively safe occupation/pastime, and it is, but only if you live by the limitations that some very smart folks have learned by the best- or perhaps worst-possible method: trial and error.

Myth Bustin'

2007-08-28T07:47:00.001-04:00

Exploring 20 Aviation Myths

By Budd Davisson

Right up front I should post a very clear caveat: Myths within any technological field almost always have a grain of, if not truth, at least enough fact that they have some ardent supporters who swear by them. (They “know” it’s true and can prove it because a friend of an uncle knew someone who had it happen to a cousin.)

Complicating the discussion even further, some so-called myths aren’t actually myths: They’re differences of opinion. This means some of you are going to read the following and immediately shout “Aha!” before firing up the e-mail machine. That’s cool. Bring it on. There’s nothing we like more than a little reader interaction.

Myth 1 If you make a sudden turn from upwind to downwind, the airplane can stall.
The theory is that if you suddenly turn from a headwind to a tailwind, the airplane will see a reduction of airspeed and there’s the possibility it will fall from the sky and smite the ground. Unfortunately, this subject will never die, nor will it ever be conclusively proved or disproved to the satisfaction of all concerned.

There are two distinct schools of thought on the matter: One says it’s pure bunk because the airplane is like a canoe in a moving stream, and it doesn’t change speed (airspeed) in relation to the water, only in relation to the river bank (groundspeed). However, there’s a very verbal school led by crop dusters, among others, that says, if you’re low and make a tight turn from headwind to tailwind, the inside wing (which is lower than the outside wing) will experience a shear effect because of the horizontal wind gradient: At ground level, the wind is zero, but it builds up to the measured velocity at some height, possibly as high as 100 feet. So, if the airplane is in a steeply banked turn, the airspeed on the two wings is different during the turn to downwind and there’s no “canoe effect” because the airplane can’t accelerate quickly enough to balance out the difference. Is this true? This one we can’t answer because only those who operate in the specified environment can report their findings. So, the myth is neither busted, nor verified.

Myth 2 You can buy a fixer-upper airplane and save money by restoring it yourself.
This is possible, but will only work if the following are true:

• The engine is far enough from TBO that it shouldn’t need work for 400 to 500 hours’ minimum.
• The airframe has no damage or corrosion.
• You have a friendly A&P willing to inspect and sign off on your work.
• You have the appropriate skills to do the work required.
• You have a workshop/hangar in which to do the work.

This definitely won’t work if you have to hire someone to do any major work other than shooting the final coat of paint (you do all the prep).

Myth 3 Tailwheel airplanes require much more skill and are inherently dangerous.
False, busted, not true! It’s called “conventional gear” for a reason: It was the standard configuration through most of aviation’s history and is easily conquered with six to eight hours of dual instruction. What’s true, however, is that it can’t be flown with the same lackadaisical approach to aviating that the nosewheel (unconventional gear) allows. It’s also true that the majority of history’s most interesting airplanes have had tailwheels. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all of them, would you?

Myth 4 Extending flaps while turning base or final can cause the airplane to stall.
Busted! This is true only if you pay no attention to the nose attitude or airspeed. Lowering the flaps causes a nose-up pitch in some airplanes and, if it’s left unchecked and the airspeed is ignored, the speed will degrade and you’ll have a problem. Nevertheless, the same thing is true of lowering flaps straight and level. If, however, normal techniques are used and airspeed is maintained, there will be no problem. So, this myth’s only true if you make it true.

Myth 5 A few hours of aerobatic training will save you if flipped upside down on final.
A huge “maybe” applies here. A little aerobatic training breaks the urge to pull when things go wrong, but, if you’re actually upside down on final, it’s going to take more than a few hours of training to save your butt. Plus, most airplanes aren’t capable of the required push-and-roll maneuver, although they’ll come close. If you’ve had akro training, however, as the airplane is in the process of being upset, you’ll see the roll rate building and you’ll instantly go to full opposite control deflection to stop it, so you won’t get upside down in the first place. That’s the real advantage of aerobatic training: It makes you more aware of attitude changes and more willing to use full control. Plus, it makes you more precise, and it’s a helluva lot of fun.

Myth 6 Short-field approaches require hanging the airplane on the prop from a mile out.
Wrong! Short-field approaches require you to control the speed, gradually slowing and transferring glideslope control to the throttle as the speed decreases, so you arrive over the threshold at a predetermined speed (stall plus five knots) with your touchdown point picked out. Dragging it in is dangerous. Besides, it’s better to roll off the end of the runway at 5 mph than to land 10 feet short (old bush-pilot proverb).

Myth 7 Flying approaches at higher approach speeds is safer.
Busted! Any speed above or below POH recommendations wastes altitude and carries its own disadvantages. A fast approach means you’re going to float longer and leave more runway behind on touchdown. In addition, while you’re floating, the crosswind has more time to mess with you and the extra speed promotes ballooning, a popular cause of landing accidents.

Myth 8 2,000 feet is a short runway.
Busted! According to their POH’s, the average general aviation airplane has a landing roll of 500 to 750 feet, and this includes everything from C-152s to Bonanzas. That being the case, what makes a 2,000-foot runway short is the amount left behind on touchdown. Hit the runway in the first 600 feet, and you’re in fat city.

Myth 9 Pumping brakes is more effective and easier on brakes than steady pressure.
Busted! Pumping brakes rather than using a steady pressure goes back to the old days of drum brakes, which loved to heat up and fade. Disk brakes don’t. If, however, the runway is wet or slick, gently pumping or a very light touch may be necessary to keep from locking them up.

Myth 10 Wear lighter-than-normal shoes for increased rudder sensitivity.
Sort of busted! Wearing super-thin-soled shoes can offer you more feel of the rudder, but it’s a different feel than normal, so you have nothing to compare it to. It’s more important to make sure the heels of your sneakers are not the fat, shock-absorbing kind that extend back behind your heel and give an offset pivot point.

Myth 11 A calm day is safer/easier than a crosswind day.
Mostly busted! Although a calm day is definitely easier, it’s safer only if your crosswind technique stinks. With the exception of 90-degree crosswinds, there’s always a component down the nose that’s making your groundspeed slower. Since practically everything having to do with landing is a function of the square of the speed, knocking off a few knots definitely makes the landing both safer and easier.

Myth 12 Power-off landings shock cool engines.
Busted! This is somewhat controversial. Larger general aviation engines may have a problem with power-off shock cooling in approach, but these are usually airplanes most people don’t land power-off anyway. The amount of time an airplane spends cooling off during a power-off approach is short and the temperature lost is small. Long, power-off descents from altitude, however, can do some serious shock cooling.

Myth 13 GPS is all that’s needed for cross-country flying.
Busted! From a practical point of view, you’d be placing your entire enchilada in the hands of the GPS and, should it fail (dead batteries, meteor hits one of the satellites, etc.), you’re in deep guano. So a map, compass and course line should always accompany the GPS. None of them have batteries to run down.

Myth 14 Ice only occurs in clouds.
Wrong (although usually right). Ice is found wherever moisture and freezing temperatures occur. Usually that moisture is visible as haze or cloud mist, but it’s not always clearly visible. Moisture can be hanging in the mist just under an overcast and, if it’s in a supercooled condition and you fly your chilly airplane through it, you’ll pick up ice almost instantaneously.

Myth 15 Stall-spin accidents always start with a nose-high attitude.
Totally wrong and then some! A stall only requires that the critical angle of attack be exceeded, and that can happen going straight up or straight down under certain conditions. On many airplanes, in a normal, flaps-down approach, it’s quite easy to exceed the critical angle with the nose below the horizon. This is especially true at full flaps. If you have the ball well off-center at the same time, you not only stall, but can also possibly spin. Both mistakes are totally avoidable with basic flying techniques: Monitor the nose attitude/airspeed and keep the ball in the center.

Myth 16 Running up your engine on the ground once a month prevents rust.
Busted! Under normal conditions, it’s nearly impossible to get an engine hot enough on the ground to cook the moisture out of the oil and drive it out of the breather. You usually can’t pull high enough power settings on the ground long enough to get the temps up to true operating temperature, especially on cool days. Generally, it takes at least two laps around the pattern to get the temps high enough to even begin to clean out the engine. Yet another excuse to go flying: “But honey, if I don’t go flying, the engine will rust.”

Myth 17 On takeoff, it’s safer to leave it on the ground until fast, and then rotate off.
Busted! This is wrong, if for no other reason, because the definition of “fast” is nebulous and it means the pilot is deciding when the conditions are right for the airplane to fly, rather than letting it make the decision. Plus, it’s ugly aviating. Pick the small wheel (whichever end it’s on) off the ground, and hold a slight positive angle of attack throughout the takeoff run and the airplane will leave the ground when the conditions are good for both a clean liftoff and a positive rate of climb. It compensates for everything from weight to density altitude.

Myth 18 Power-off landings are unnecessarily difficult.
Busted! Yes, power-off landings require that the pilot develop both the judgment to know where his or her airplane is going to power off, plus the skills to control the glideslope without power. If the engine ever quits, however, these might be handy skills to have, don’t you think?

Myth 19 Only licensed mechanics can do mechanical work on an airplane.
Busted. 14 CFR Part 43, Appendix A, Section (c)(1-32) “Preventive Maintenance” offers a comprehensive list of maintenance items that can be performed by the holder of a private-pilot license on an airplane he or she owns. The key is that the work done can’t require the disassembly of any major structural or operating component. The list includes everything from changing oil and tires to doing brakes, as well as a myriad of other mechanical tasks that many assume can only be done by a licensed mechanic.

Myth 20 Once you fall off the “step,” you must increase power or lose altitude to regain it.
Although you’ll get a lot of folks to say otherwise, this is busted! The so-called “step”—where an airplane falls out of the proper attitude like a speedboat falling off the step when the speed decreases—doesn’t exist. It’s a true aerodynamic myth. Don’t, however, get it confused with either the “drag bucket,” which some airfoils exhibit, or being on the “backside of the power curve”—these are different phenomena and actually do exist.

What’s very true about the “step” is that some very subtle pilot-technique issues can make it appear to exist. If an airplane is given enough time, and the angle of attack isn’t played with, it will always accelerate to the speed of which it is capable for a given amount of power. In aircraft with lower power-to-weight ratios, however, or aircraft in approach configuration (slow and dirty), it’s easy to put just the tiniest amount of backpressure on it and cause the airplane to gradually slow down, while gaining what appears to be zero altitude. The trick then is to gradually release that backpressure at the rate the airplane accelerates without losing altitude at the same time. Losing altitude to get the speed back is cheating, but for some airplanes, much easier.

Considering that aviation is really nothing more than a mechanical activity that’s governed by the laws of physics, you’d think there would be no myths or points of disagreement. Get any two pilots in a room, however, and they’ll find something to disagree about.

10 Undervalued Classics

2007-08-27T08:10:00.001-04:00

Sometimes you really do get more than you pay for.

By Budd Davisson

Given the way that prices on just about everything keep going up, it’s hard to believe there really is such a thing as an “undervalued” airplane. But such a thing does exist, especially when you look back at the older classics.

There are several reasons the marketplace has decided a given airplane isn’t worth as much as its seemingly similar brethren. Part of this is based on fact, some on hearsay and even more on the unquantifiable, sometimes irrational, “logic” that seems to permeate aviation. For a nuts-and-bolts type of community, emotion often plays a surprisingly large role in the decision-making process. Factors that influence an older airplane’s value follow:

It’s Not A Recognizable Brand. If there’s a “Cessna” or “Piper” in an airplane’s name, it usually, but not always, removes it from the undervalued category. A name brand practically guarantees popularity.

It’s Got An Unpopular Airframe Structure. There’s nothing like fabric or wood in a structure to bring down its perceived value in the modern marketplace. Take, for example, the Bellanca Viking. It can blow the doors off most of its competition, but its fabric and wood features combine with a lack of name recognition to keep its market value at 65% to 75% that of a comparable Bonanza.

It Has A “Reputation.” Some airplanes have a questionable reputation for either handling or mechanical quirks (it’s almost always undeserved). Real or not, however, it keeps the values down.

These kinds of value-limiting factors affect the entire airplane population, old and new, but in the field of postwar classics, there are some definite sleepers that are great, low-cost, entry-level planes. Some you know well, and some you may have never heard of. Still, each represents a good value for the money spent, as long as you pay attention to certain basic details and make the right decisions.

Good Airframe Fabric. If it’s a fabric airplane and the fabric is questionable, pass on it. Unless the asking price is really low and you’re going to do the work yourself, it won’t work out financially. The material to recover something like a Champ costs around $2,200; if you hire someone else to do the work, it’s going to cost $15,000 to $19,000, and that’s often more than the value of the airplane.

A Low- To Mid-Time Engine. The engine should be in the first half of its life, and, more importantly, should have been flown regularly over the last 10 years. Give preference to a regularly flown, higher-time engine over a lower-time engine that’s been sitting around for a few years. This is especially true for Lycomings, which love to rust the rear cam lobe if not flown. Thirty-five hours a year should be about minimum, depending on local humidity. Overhaul costs can run from a low of $9,000 (for a locally done 65 hp Continental) up to $25,000 (for a six-cylinder Lycoming).

Low Airframe Corrosion. Older airplanes, are bound to have a little corrosion or rust, but go through the airplane with mirrors and poke into every nook and cranny to make sure it’s only cosmetic and doesn’t affect structural integrity. Each airplane type has areas of concern that are unique to that type. Contact the type club for that airplane and develop a type-specific inspection list to guide you and the A&P (who’s familiar with the airplane) while conducting the prepurchase inspection.

Buy An Already-Rebuilt Airplane, If Possible. Let someone else take the dollar-hit for restoring/rebuilding an airplane. Make up your mind that, if it’s available, you’re going to buy the best of a given type and pay top dollar for it. At the same time, don’t pay so much that you could buy one of the more popular, mainstream models for the same price.

Buy To Fly Or Fix, Not Resell. It’s easier to get upside down financially with one of these airplanes than with the more popular ones, so buy with the idea of flying the wings off of your plane and enjoying it, not reselling it. Your operation costs will be low and you’ll be getting some inexpensive flying time. But if you plan on getting all of your money out of it, watch what you spend on “fixing it up.” Most airplanes, if well cared for and consistent with the above guidelines, will return all of your purchase price, but the more popular ones are more likely to return the dollars you put into them along the way.

1. AERONCA CHIEF Of the name-brand classics, the Chief has been the slowest to catch up to the value curve. Considering it’s basically Champ wings bolted on a side-by-side (rather than tandem) fuselage, there’s no logic to the huge price differential between the two. (The Chief lags the Champ by a solid 30% or more.) The Chief doesn’t give blazing performance (85 to 90 mph), although the standard 65 hp 11AC Chief (not the 85 hp 11CC Super Chief) still has adequate get-up-and-go. With the Super Chief’s 85 hp, it gets a decided boost and is much more expensive. Because the Chief’s value is lower, you’re likely to run across more questionable examples of the Chief than the Champ as they’ve been allowed to go downhill. It’s better to find a totally restored airplane that costs twice the average Chief price. You’ll realize three times more airplane and less headaches. The airplane has tons of adverse yaw, so be prepared to use your feet, but it’s a pussycat on the ground.

2. AERONCA SEDAN The 15AC Aeronca Sedan is a big airplane. It has a huge, comfortable, well-lit cabin and carries four people with ease (900-pound useful load). It has well-done all-metal wings, although they’re difficult to inspect, so plan on spending some time eyeballing them because lots of Sedans have been sitting derelict for at least part of their lives. If there’s one drawback, it’s that the 145 hp Continental is about 40 hp short of what’s needed for an airplane that size. Still, it’ll give you an honest 110 to 115 mph and a lot of comfort along the way. Its handling is sedate and solid, and it offers excellent runway visibility for a taildragger. In an effort to keep the price down, designers decided not to include flaps. This is too bad, as flaps would make the plane an even better off-airport performer.

3. BELLANCA The older triple-tail Bellancas come in two commonly available versions, the 14-13 with the 150 hp Franklin (14-13-2 with the 165 hp Franklin) and the 14-19 with the 190 hp Lycoming O-435 (six-cylinder). Assuming a more or less straight and clean airframe, they’re surprisingly fast. Typically, however, they’re not as fast in real life as the spec charts would have you believe. Assume 140 mph with the little engine, 145 to 150 mph with the 190 hp. The later airplanes are also a little wider. These planes scare people because of their wooden wings, but the fear is unjustified. On the other hand, they do require that an A&P crawl all over the airplane because the wings don’t like being left out in the open and ignored. The airplanes are delightfully smooth to fly, quick to maneuver and easy on the runway, although they get much of their performance from small cockpit dimensions so they aren’t big-guy airplanes. Both engine types require some specialized knowledge.

4. FUNK Following World War II, Funk aircraft were produced with C-85 engines, but make no mistake, this is a 1930s antique with more or less modern reliability. The cockpit is smallish, and the big control wheels that are mounted on the ends of a T-shaped control column look as if they’re out of an old airliner. This is a “fun” airplane because it’s unconventional yet useful. Plan on 95 to 100 mph cruise at 4.5 gph. It’s one of the least expensive types, but you’ll be dependent on the Funk type club for information: not many mechanics even know it exists.

5. MAULE M-4 JETASEN The original Maule was powered by the same 145 hp Continental that was then (early ’60s) also powering the C-172. Then, after a few years, the horsepower race took off, and the Maule sprouted the big angular tail we’re all so familiar with. The original Jetasens were light, easy-to-fly airplanes. Though they don’t rocket off the runway like their big-engine siblings, they still do fine with four people. In fact, they have nearly the same useful load (approximately 1,000 pounds) as all the later airplanes and more useful load than some, courtesy of their 1,100 pound empty weight (they’re as much as 300 pounds lighter than the newer airplanes). Also, the older, rounded tail looks much better than the later, rectilinear shark fin. The airplane is at least 25% cheaper than the next-larger-engine model and doesn’t give up that much in performance.

6. PIPER TRI-PACER The PA-22 Tri-Pacer continues to be the best bang for the four-place buck in aviation. (Although in the 125/135 hp versions, “four-place” may be stretching the definition because temperature and altitude eat into the plane’s performance when it’s fully loaded. The 150/160 hp versions are much better in those situations.) The airplane was produced throughout the ’50s into the ’60s and is available in everything from “backline-ratty” to “as new” condition. The airplane requires some definite inspection for rust inside the door frames and wing carry-through structure at the bottom of the fuselage. Though it has short wings, the performance is much better than many assume, and it’s an honest 120 to 125 mph airplane, but at a much lower cost than its peer group competitor, the C-172. Metal conversions are available on many Tri-Pacers.

7. PIPER J-4 CUB COUPE The J-4 is the Piper everyone has forgotten about. Okay, so it isn’t postwar, but since it’s mostly a J-3 Cub, and some J-3s were built after the war, I thought I’d include it. The J-4 is a Cub, pure and simple, but with two-abreast seating. In fact, a lot of the major components, like wings, etc., are virtually interchangeable. One notable difference between the two is that the Cub Coupe is much less expensive to acquire than the J-3, which is far from being undervalued. Unlike its competition (such as planes in the Taylorcraft BC series), the J-4’s cockpit isn’t too tight for two new-millennium pilots, and it’s much more comfortable. In fact, the Coupe is actually a very likeable airplane compared to its peer group, though at 75 to 80 mph cruise on four gallons per hour, just about everything is faster. Supposedly more than 1,200 J-4s were produced, but you don’t run across many today. It’s a great-looking airplane with surprisingly good handling.

8. REARWIN/COMMONWEALTH “The what?” you may ask. The Commonwealth Skyranger was another postwar continuation of a prewar design (the Rearwin) and is another of those models that died when the 1946 aviation boom didn’t happen. A tallish, two-place tandem design with surprisingly good handling, it can be bought for a fraction of the cost of a Cub or Champ from the same period. There are the usual caveats about wood spars and fuselage tubing, but at less than five gallons an hour, it’ll give a lot of 100 mph enjoyment for not much money.

9. STINSON 108 The Stinson 108 series offers what are possibly the slickest controls on any certified airplane and a four-place cabin that’s vaguely reminiscent of an old station wagon. In fact, one of them was dubbed the “Station Wagon.” There are four variations (108, -1, -2, -3), but only the 108-3 is visually different from the rest—its huge, upswept fin was necessitated by the 165 hp (versus 150 hp) engine. The Franklin engines generally can’t be supported by your local FBO, but there are plenty of specialty shops for both the airframe and the engine. Give preference to a Lycoming conversion and Cleveland brake conversion. The STCs for the 220 hp Franklin or 230 hp Continental O-470 convert the mild-mannered limo into a serious hot rod. It’ll cruise at 115 to 120 mph, but cleanups and big motors push it closer to 150 mph. Metal conversions are available on many Stinsons.

10. STRAIGHT-TAIL CESSNA 182s Although the 1956-59 straight-tail 182s may appear frumpier than their swept-tail cousins, they give almost identical performance at a fraction of the purchase price. The older airplanes cruise within a few knots of the later models and carry almost as much. For much less money, you get modern performance in a classic package. These are the only undervalued Cessnas in existence, but condition is everything. Check for corrosion and general wear and tear because you can get financially upside down in a hurry fixing lots of little stuff.

Incidentally, while you’ll find lots of these “also rans” in Trade-A-Plane, often the best place to find them is tied down at local airports. As if we need another excuse to go flying!

From The Editor - Keeping Self-Promises, The Easy Way

2007-08-26T08:10:00.000-04:00

By Steven D. Werner

Admit it: how many grand pledges have you made on December 31, but forgotten about on January 1? We realize that if New Year’s resolutions aren’t fun, they’re going to be difficult to keep. In hopes that 2007 will be different, Contributing Editor Budd Davisson offers easy-to-keep resolutions—one for each month—that will challenge you
with new experiences as you develop into a better, safer pilot.

As with anything in aviation, safety comes first. The unfortunate, recent accident involving Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle and his instructor Tyler Stanger demonstrates that box canyon hazards can be found anywhere, not just in the mountains. A “virtual box canyon” can be defined by airspace restrictions, such as those along New York City’s East River. Michael Vivion’s comprehensive article offers safety tips and techniques to practice before maneuvering in confined areas.

A growing number of aircraft manufacturers are incorporating additional safety features into their aircraft. Senior Editor Bill Cox flies the Flight Design CT, a light sport aircraft that comes standard with a ballistic parachute. Not only is the German-built composite aircraft one of the most sophisticated LSAs available, but Bill reports that it also has one of the largest, most comfortable cabins in its class.

And Bill should know all about comfort! He recently ferried a Piper Saratoga II TC for more than 14 hours across the Pacific Ocean. Although he was probably a bit stiff upon delivery, the Saratoga’s spacious cockpit provided a pleasant journey. Flight handling of the 300 hp, turbocharged six-seater is gentle and easy to manage. Bill also loves flying formation with the Saratoga for air-to-air photo sessions, such as the one on this issue’s cover. With the aircraft’s back door removed, the rear-facing seat makes a great platform for our photographers.

We at Plane & Pilot greet each year with hopes for continued growth in aviation. Our resolution to bring you new planes and products for evaluation each month will not be broken. Happy New Year!

Note from Lizzy:

Here was a good article I thought we all should read from January...especially all you pilots out there. Not a bad reminder.

Flight Design CT Best Of The LSAs?

2007-08-25T17:08:00.000-04:00

Worth Every Penny

By Bill CoxPhotography
By James Lawrence

Light sport aircraft come in a variety of flavors. If you’re inclined to go traditional, you can opt for the Legend Cub, an upgraded copy of the venerable J-3. At the opposite end of the LSA spectrum, many pilots are selecting the Flight Design CT.

Flight Design’s LSA is a German product constructed in the Ukraine almost entirely from carbon fiber and Kevlar composites, and in many respects, it seems almost antithetical to the whole concept of an LSA, by definition, a minimal, entry-level airplane. Though Flight Design’s airplane complies with all parameters of LSA certification, it’s nevertheless one of the most sophisticated aircraft in the class. It was one of the first LSAs approved by the FAA, and it was granted its certificate at the 2005 Sun ’n Fun air show in Lakeland, Fla.

Apparently, many European pilots have long since acknowledged Flight Design’s talents, as some 600 of the type have been sold in Europe since the company began offering the CT (Composite Technology) in 1998. In fact, the CT has been so successful that Matthias Betsch, president of Flight Design in Echterdingen, Germany, recently announced a 90,000-square-foot expansion to the Ukrainian factory.

Betsch feels the expansion should allow production to double in 2007, with as many as 100 airplanes earmarked for the critical U.S. market. Those will join probably another 100 CTs already operating inside American airspace.

Flight Design USA (www.flightdesignusa.com) of South Woodstock, Conn., is the United States’ sole importer of the CT aircraft. Owner Tom Peghiny is one of the advisors for the LSA movement in this country. Peghiny also manufactures the very popular FlightStar series of lightweight aircraft, and imports the HKS four-stroke engine.

Sebring Aviation (www.sebring-aviation.com) in Sebring, Fla., is the Southeast regional distributor, and Sebring’s John Hurst says the airplane has been well received in his area. “It’s a very modern design,” says Hurst, “more reminiscent of a fully certified airplane in many respects. It features a ballistic parachute as standard equipment, offers one of the largest cabins in the class, can easily accommodate two big men and has plenty of power to provide excellent performance.”

Big question first: price? Flyaway list price of the Flight Design CT is $92,900, delivered to the East Coast and ready to fly. That’s a fairly basic airplane with no options, but in this case, basic is reasonably outfitted for day VFR. In addition to the standard BRS emergency parachute, the airplane includes full instrumentation, strobes and position lights, plus three-axis manual trim. More on prices later.

At first sight, the Flight Design CT looks a little unusual, something like an aerodynamic pod suspended beneath graceful wings and a waspish tail. Indeed, the CT has a short ratio of length to wingspan, about 1.37. In contrast, the old Aeronca Champ and J-3 Cub scored more like 1.6.

The Flight Design CT’s wings are a European C180 airfoil, 107 square feet in area with a 13.8% thickness, just under two degrees of dihedral and downturned tips. The airplane uses flaperons that automatically deflect down to improve lift when flaps are deflected to their full 40 degrees. Tail surfaces include a Piper-style all-flying stabilator and a conventional rudder above a small ventral fin.

The CT’s gross weight is 1,320 pounds, the legal limit for an LSA. A typical unequipped empty weight is 646 pounds, so the airplane boasts a useful load of 674 pounds. Even with a full 34 gallons of fuel aboard, the airplane still sports 470 pounds of payload. That translates to a pair of 200-pound pilots and a reasonable allowance for baggage. If passenger and fuel weight will allow, baggage capacity is 110 pounds, with dedicated doors on both sides of the aft fuselage, a nice touch.

You climb aboard the Flight Design through either of two top-hinged doors that fold up against the bottoms of the wings. Despite the LSA designation, which sometimes implies sporty and cramped, there’s nothing compact about this airplane’s cabin. The front office measures a respectable 49 inches across, making it perhaps the widest LSA available. There’s plenty of shoulder, leg and headroom for even a six-foot-tall pilot.

Flight controls and panel layout are compact but conventional. Pitch trim, choke, throttle and brake controls are mounted on the lower, center quadrant, with most other engine and system controls located higher where they’re convenient to both pilots. All electrical switches are spaced across the top of the center console.

The CT employs dual control sticks mounted directly in front of pilot and passenger plus standard rudder bars without differential brakes. A brake T-handle applies equal pressure to both wheels simultaneously.

The CT uses a Rotax 912S for motive force, but this definitely isn’t your great uncle’s Rotax. With the help of a 10.5-to-1 compression ratio, two carburetors and dual electronic ignition, the little, 1,350 cc powerplant churns out 100 hp at a brisk 5,800 rpm. A 2.43 reduction gearing drops the Rotax’s enthusiasm to 2,400 rpm, driving a three-blade, Neuform composite prop. Engine cooling is with both air and liquid, protecting the engine from even the hottest desert temperatures. TBO is 1,500 hours.

One of the nicest nonoperational features of the Rotax is that it’s an extremely lightweight mill, less than 150 pounds installed. That’s a critical quality in an airplane that grosses only 1,320 pounds.

Takeoff performance is better than you might expect, a function of an efficient wing and relatively low power loading. The CT jumps into the air in less than 300 feet and starts uphill with surprising enthusiasm. The Rotax offers 100 hp for the first five minutes, generating a low 13.2 pounds/hp. Compare that to the Cessna 152’s 15.2, a Piper Tomahawk’s 14.9 or a Beech Skipper’s 14.6. Not surprisingly, vertical speed is superior to that of the other three, specifically 960 fpm.

In-flight visibility from the Flight Design CT is reminiscent of a bubble helicopter, with huge side windows that extend forward, a king-size windshield that continues well back into the roof and a large, overhead, Plexiglas skylight. In combination with the smooth, high-revving Rotax and a fairly quiet cabin, the CT’s flight environment is comfortable and inviting.

This little airplane can move, too. Though my flight with Sebring’s John Hurst didn’t allow time for cruise checks, I had little trouble keeping up with a Skyhawk photo ship during the air-to-air shoot. Book spec is for 112 knots at about 4.9 gph, more than acceptable speed with only 100 hp out front. Such brevity means you can plan no-wind cross-country trips over distances of 600 nm with plenty of reserve. Throttled back to 55%, you could easily push that figure out to 700 nm.

Part of the reason for the airplane’s speed may be its efficient, semi-NLF (natural-laminar flow) wing. The airplane offers a high 14-to-1 glide ratio, better than that of most certified airplanes and even most other LSAs.

That slick airfoil also generates enough lift to reduce dirty stall speed to an impressive 39 knots. Such a low no-fly velocity means short-field approaches are possible at speeds as slow as 50 knots. More-normal efforts demand 55 to 60 knots, but the slow approach speeds mean the airplane can use 1,500-foot runways with ease. This is one airplane that can probably jump off in the same or less runway distance that it needs to land.

As mentioned above, base price is $92,900, and while that does buy an operational airplane, it won’t allow you to fly in anything but a non-radio, open-skies environment. If you want an airplane capable of anything more than a fun weekend country bird for uncongested airspace, you’ll need to add a few things. Typical add-ons include an ELT, the night-flight package, leather seats, a panel-mounted Garmin 396, a Becker com and transponder, and a Tru Track Digiflight autopilot. The resulting well-equipped Flight Design CT winds up with a list price just under $110,000. There’s nothing you can buy in certified ranks that has anything like the same talent for anywhere near the price.

The whole point of the LSA market is to offer a simpler, less-expensive alternative to conventional certified aircraft and standard pilot’s licenses, and the Flight Design CT may be ideally positioned to cash in on that market. Typical of so many German-designed machines, it’s a highquality product, well constructed, easy to fly and available new for a price that’s well below that for most used singles.

...Not to mention it’s one of the most unusual new airplanes you can buy.

2006 Piper Saratoga II TC

2007-08-24T17:03:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS
Base price: $572,400

Engine make/model: Lycoming

TIO-540-AH1A TBO (hrs.): 2000

Horsepower@altitude: 300@16,000 ft.

Horsepower on takeoff: 300

Fuel type: 100/100LL

Propeller type: Constant speed

Landing gear type: Tri./Retr.

Max ramp weight (lbs.): 3615

Gross weight (lbs.): 3600

Empty weight, std. (lbs.): 2481

Useful load, std. (lbs.): 1134

Useful fuel, std. (gals.): 102

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.): 522

Oil capacity (qts.): 12

Wingspan: 36 ft. 2 in.

Overall length: 27 ft. 11 in.

Height: 8 ft. 6 in.

Wing area (sq. ft.): 178.3

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.): 20.2

Power loading (lbs./hp): 12

Seating capacity: 6

Cabin doors: 2

Cabin width (in.): 49

Cabin height (in.): 42

Baggage capacity (lbs.): 200

PERFORMANCE

CRUISE SPEED, 75% power (kts.):
10,000 ft.: 175
15,000 ft.: 185

FUEL CONSUMPTION, 75% power (gph): 20

Vso (kts.): 57

Best rate of climb, SL (fpm): 1120

Max operating altitude (ft.): 20,000

Takeoff ground roll (ft.): 1110

Takeoff over 50-ft.

obstacle (ft.): 1810

Landing ground roll (ft.): 880

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.): 1700

Box Canyon Hazards

2007-08-23T07:31:00.000-04:00

Beyond mountains, airspace restrictions & tall buildings can also define tight spots.

By Michael Vivion

The visibility isn’t the best going up the mountain pass. On the far side lies better weather and home. Behind are a tent, camp, cold and wet weather, and insufficient gas to go elsewhere. The pilot continues deeper into the pass, hoping conditions will improve. The ceiling is steady, but the terrain is rising. They’re headed south, and winds are westerly at 20 knots, with gusts. The pilot hugs the right side of the pass for traffic.

Suddenly, clouds obscure the rising terrain, and it’s obvious he isn’t going to make it through the pass. It’s time to turn around, but the opposite canyon wall looks awfully close. The aircraft’s vertical fin is already in the clouds, and the surrounding terrain is much higher—climbing isn’t an option. Neither is a descent. From cruise configuration, the pilot initiates a hard left turn, banking 45 degrees in an imitation of a check ride aced years ago. Unfortunately, the aircraft has just turned into a tailwind.

Two days later, searchers find the remains of the aircraft near the top of the pass. The wreckage pattern leads downhill, on a northerly heading. The NTSB accident database is littered with stories of pilots who failed to turn around in the space available to them.

Years ago, I was introduced to the de Havilland Beaver by Jack Corey. I remember most of the information conveyed to me during the checkout, but two topics stand out. The first is a flight regime that has destroyed many de Havilland aircraft: operation in the region of reverse command, or flying on the back side of the power curve. The other lesson, repeated until it was second nature, involved turning the Beaver around in a tight spot. With Corey growling at me from the right seat, I turned again and again in airspace I would have thought only a helicopter could work in. Years later, the lessons learned that day likely saved my life and the life of my passenger.

It’s important to be aware that not all box canyons are found in the mountains. High-rise buildings and metropolitan areas may rise above a VFR flight corridor, such as in New York City’s East River. Airspace restrictions may also create a virtual box as well—in those cases, I’d rather maneuver safely and risk facing an entire team of FAA lawyers.

The weather doesn’t have to be bad for things to go awry—many incidents occur on sight-seeing flights in VFR conditions. Either way, know any canyon very well before venturing into it. You can fly above the canyon to discern whether there are any new obstructions, such as wires or towers that you’re unfamiliar with.

No matter what the scenario or aircraft, there are several key factors that will help you turn around in minimum airspace.

Before The Turn
First and foremost, slow down before you get into a tight spot. Because airspeed and bank angle dictate the radius of a turn, slower speeds and/or steeper bank angles will result in a tighter turn. Many pilots wait until they’re actually starting the turn to slow down—that’s too late. What speed should you target? I use 1.3 Vso initially. Practicing turns with slight variations in speed helps find the best speed for your airplane. Don’t forget that stall speed varies with weight, and adjust accordingly.

Configure the airplane for the turn before you initiate the turn. This will vary from aircraft to aircraft, but look for the configuration that offers the best tradeoff between lift and drag. Most airplanes will warrant a flap setting at about half deflection, but some aircraft turn tighter with full flaps, so practice at altitude until you find the best configuration for your aircraft.

Wind direction is the most important consideration in determining which side of the canyon to hug while proceeding up canyon. If you’re flying south with a westerly wind, as described in the scenario above, starting the turn from the east side of the canyon provides a headwind as you turn across the canyon. If there’s a lot of wind, there may be downdrafts on the west side of the canyon. But remember, the radius of the turn is a function of speed over the ground. If you cross the canyon with a tailwind, your best effort may not be good enough.

Practice the procedure for minimum radius turns repeatedly at altitude so that the maneuver becomes second nature. When you’re looking at sheer rock walls through the windshield, you need to have confidence and competence in your technique. A GPS will help evaluate your turn radius during practice.

Everything described to this point must be done before you initiate that lifesaving turn. Slow down, configure, move to the wall that offers the best starting point, and practice. Preparation is the key to success.

During The Turn
Let’s revisit our scenario: Clouds immediately above—can’t go up. Rocks below—can’t go down. What’s the best strategy to get turned around?

Pose this question to a dozen pilots, and you’ll hear as many answers. Some advocate a chandelle—a climbing turn at the conclusion of which you should be within a couple knots of stall speed. In our scenario, we can’t climb and we don’t want to be so close to stall speed in the mountains and turbulence.

Others suggest a diving turn. But we’ve continued to descend as we’ve gotten deeper into this deal—to the point where we can no longer descend. Furthermore, a descent suggests more speed, and speed equates to a larger turn radius.

The technique I use has worked in the light aircraft I’ve flown, including that harridan of canyon turns—the Beaver.

Here’s the technique, as I’d perform it in a Cessna 172:

Slow down and configure the airplane before you get to the tight spot: 70 mph and flaps set to 20 degrees. Depending on the operating weight, 70 knots is a little over 1.3 Vso.

When the airplane is trimmed, roll smoothly into a steep, coordinated turn. This doesn’t have to be a maximum-rate roll—steady and smooth works here.

As you pass 30 degrees of bank, apply full power, and up-elevator to initiate the turn. Continue the roll to 50 degrees of bank. With practice, you’ll find a pitch attitude (generally a little higher than cruise attitude) that will maintain altitude. The idea here is to turn with minimum radius, while holding altitude. Keep pulling hard as the airplane turns, and at the 180-degree point perform a smooth rollout and power reduction.

The airplane should come around as if on rails. If it buffets a little in the turn, back off the pull just a tad. With full power, the airplane will tolerate a lot before it stalls. Practice at altitude to perfect the technique and to determine how much pull it takes. And remember, in actual practice, this is a last-ditch lifesaving maneuver. Done well, the airplane will finish at the same altitude that you entered the turn. Practice the maneuver until you nail the altitude every time.

All aircraft—from basic trainers to taildraggers to high-performance models—can get into trouble with box canyons. With each aircraft, the flap setting and target airspeed may be different, but the basic technique is the same.

So, remember, practice turning around till you have the technique down pat. Should you anticipate a tight spot ahead, slow the airplane down and configure it for a turn. Most times, you’ll get through the pass just fine. Flying slow with flaps will take a little longer, but should the space close in on you, reduced airspeed and bank will get you out of there in one piece.

Virtual Box Canyons

Mountain walls aren’t required to form a box canyon, as was evidenced by the October 2006 accident involving New York Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle and his flight instructor, Tyler Stanger. Sightseeing over New York’s East River, the two pilots flew within a narrow VFR corridor, surrounded by LaGuardia Airport’s Class B airspace. These limitations defined an invisible, but potentially hazardous, box canyon.

Within confined areas, it’s always preferable to make any necessary turns into the wind. At the time of Lidle and Stanger’s flight, winds were recorded at 095 degrees at 13 knots. As reported by the NTSB, radar data showed their aircraft entering a 180-degree turn to the west—downwind—to avoid bravo airspace. The easterly tailwind would have reduced the airspace available for turning by 400 feet. Prior to the turn, the aircraft had been positioned approximately mid-river, and as such couldn’t take advantage of the entire width of the corridor, further reducing maneuvering space.

NTSB reports suggest that if the aircraft hadn’t banked steeply at 53 degrees upon commencing the turn, even greater bank angles would have been required throughout the turn, making a stall a possibility. All of these factors may have contributed to the aircraft’s crash into a Manhattan high-rise building.

Radar tracks of the aircraft’s path over New York’s East River can be viewed at http://ntsb.gov/Pressrel/2006/ N929CD_final_turn_3radars.pdf.

From The Editor - Light-Sport Aircraft Aren’t Just For Sport Pilots

2007-08-22T07:31:00.000-04:00

By Steven D. Werner

With the growth of the light-sport market, flying a new plane is more affordable than ever. There are approximately 40 ready-to-fly LSAs in this rapidly expanding segment of general aviation, and author Dan Ramsey gives us the low-down on 10 of the most popular sport aircraft, all available for under $100K.

In future issues, look for increased coverage of this exciting market, with more in-depth LSA pilot reports. This month, Senior Editor Bill Cox flies the Remos G-3, a German plane that has seen success in Europe and South America and was recently introduced to the U.S. market. The aircraft, composed primarily of carbon fiber, has easy and forgiving handling qualities, plus unique folding wings that allow for more storage and transportation options.

Although the Mooney Bravo has been replaced by the Acclaim, it’s still one of the quickest and most comfortable single-engine piston airplanes, as it has been for the last 15 years. Bill Cox flies one with a Garmin G1000 glass panel and is impressed with the whole package.
If you’ve been true to Budd Davisson’s New Year’s resolutions [January 2007], this is the month to get a new endorsement, rating or flight experience. Andover Flight Academy in rural New Jersey trains students in a 180 hp CubCrafters Top Cub. Not only will you earn a tailwheel endorsement, but you’ll improve your stick and rudder skills to become a better all-around pilot.

Should the winter weather have you stuck inside wanting an aviation fix, we’ve compiled our picks for 50 great aviation Websites (from flight planning to air shows to photography), as well as handheld gadgets (from GPS units to transceivers to weather software). And while you’re waiting for springtime, dig out your insurance policy and make sure you know what’s what. Insurance expert Jim Lauerman walks us through the fine print.

Contact Plane & Pilot at editor@planeandpilotmag.com.

Remos G-3Teutonic LSA

2007-08-21T19:41:00.001-04:00

This german sportplane is as strong as it gets.

By Bill Cox, Photography By David Gustafson

The Germans have never had a monopoly on quality, but there’s little question that American drivers have long regarded German cars as some of the best in the world. Mercedes, Porsche, BMW and Audi all have reputations as high-quality, high-performance machines.

While German lightplanes have benefited from the same uncompromising quality control, they’ve been notably less successful in the U.S. and world markets. The delightfully handling Extra 300 series has made its mark as an excellent aerobatic machine, but other German-produced aircraft have found tough sledding on this side of the pond. Ruschmeyer was a fun retractable that never caught on the first time around in the 1990s, then was revived a few years ago as the Solaris, which still hasn’t caught the pilot public’s fancy.

The Remos G-3 is an airplane from Germany that could change all that. The G-3 represents the dream of German designer Lorenz Kreitmayr, a
lifelong aviation fanatic who was determined to do things his way.

His way turned out to be the light-sport aircraft market. In many respects, the Remos is one of the most exotic LSAs available. Kreitmayr initiated design efforts in 1993, and the prototype first flew in 1997. Following a recent infusion of capital by software entrepreneur Eberhard Faerber, the factory in Pasewalk, Germany (an hour’s drive from Berlin), is currently turning out about one airplane every two weeks, and many of those G-3s are finding their way to the vital U.S. market.

I flew a G-3 with Doc Williams of Corona, Calif. Williams purchased his Remos through Remos USA, (888) 838-9879, in Fullerton, Calif., the West Coast distributor for the line. At first sight, the Remos promises a different experience, and it delivers exactly that. It’s an attractive little airplane, and one can easily see that good quality control and intelligent design were foremost in the Remos’ conception. As partial acknowledgement of Kreitmayr’s efforts, the G-3 was voted “Aircraft of the Year” at the AERO Show in Friedrichshafen, Germany, in 2000.

The G-3 is constructed primarily of carbon fiber, a nearly ideal material for airplanes, a third lighter than fiberglass, yet twice as strong. Fabric-covering is also used on portions of the Remos’ wing.

The G-3 is an economical design with a pod-shaped cabin up front, trailed by a waspish empennage and conventional low tail with a small ventral fin. Kreitmayr’s philosophy was to produce the most efficient design possible, minimizing wetted area and equivalent flat-plate area, consistent with the mission of carrying two folks in comfort. The gear legs are smoothly faired into the wheel-pants, and the overall impression is one of clean, efficient aerodynamics.

Power is provided by an Austrian Rotax 912 ULS, a 100 hp mill at 5,800 rpm with a gear reduction of 2.43:1. Now that Rotax has dropped its V6 program, this is effectively the largest engine the company produces. TBO is listed at 1,500 hours.

Entry to the cabin is through a pair of fold-up doors, à la DeLorean. The front office is wide and comfortable, nearly 47 inches across, easily capable of accommodating two big men. The panel is straightforward and simple, with a surprising variety of avionics options available. Garmin, Becker and Bendix/King avionics are on the list, even a Dynon seven-inch EFIS display. VFR is the rule on LSAs, but utilizing the panel-mounted Garmin 496 and 330 Mode S transponder, you can select TIS uplink traffic, XM Satellite Weather and terrain if you’re so inclined.

Once you’re settled inside, the cowl slopes slightly downhill to provide a good view forward. The view to the sides through the combination doors/windows is also excellent. There are even mini-side windows on each side of the aft cabin, more stylish than functional.

Pitch and roll control are via a conventional stick with a coolie-hat electric trim for both elevator and ailerons. The nosewheel is steerable, and flaps are electric with 40 degrees of deflection available. In combination with a high-aspect-ratio wing, flaps help produce a stall speed of only 39 knots, allowing approaches as slow as 50 knots. As you might expect, such a slow stall doesn’t demand much runway—less than 600 feet for both takeoff and landing.

A relatively large wing (131 square feet), 100 hp out front and the LSA legal limit of only 1,320 pounds to lift translates into good climb, 1,300 fpm according to specs. Even if that’s a little optimistic, the airplane can easily manage 1,000 fpm, putting it well ahead of most other LSAs.

According to Remos, the typical unequipped empty weight comes in at 625 pounds. Add even 75 pounds for options, and you’ll still be left with a useful load better than 600 pounds. Subtract 21 gallons of fuel, and you have about 480 pounds remaining for people and stuff, a more than reasonable allowance and better than some certified two-seaters.

Handling qualities are appropriately benign. Stalls are practically nonexistent with no tendency to fall off on a wing, provided the ball is somewhere near the center. The airplane simply sets up a hobbyhorse bobbing as it settles toward the ground. Roll rate isn’t exactly lightning quick, but it’s fast enough to make the airplane responsive without being quirky.

In cruise mode, the Remos turns in about 110 knots in keeping with Remos’ company motto, “The Sky Is Your Freeway.” (Notice use of the term “freeway” rather than “autobahn.” Years ago, I was delivering a new Piper Archer to Munich, and cars were passing me on the autobahn below.) Perhaps the best news is that you can pull back the little Rotax to sip fuel at 3.0 gph, providing up to six hours of endurance plus reserve. Remember, this is a European airplane, and they’ve been paying the equivalent of $5 to $6 per gallon for fuel over there for decades. The Rotax is even approved for high-test auto fuel if avgas is in short supply.

Another concession to economy on the Remos is folding wings. The wing-fold mechanism allows rotating and swinging the wings back alongside the fuselage, so you can trailer the airplane home to store it in your garage. Alternately, you can fit three G-3s in a standard T-hangar at the airport.

Base price on the Remos is $89,500. A reasonably equipped airplane would sell for about $110,000. In keeping with its international lineage, the Remos is distributed in Germany, Austria, Brazil, Denmark, France, Switzerland and Turkey.

What’s left unspoken is the fact that the Remos is plain fun to fly, easy to maneuver, simple to operate. If you’re into LSAs, by all means, check out the Remos G-3. You may be surprised at how much airplane you can buy for a little more than $100,000.

2006 MOONEY M20M BRAVO

2007-08-20T19:41:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS
Average price: $478,000

Engine make/model: Lycoming

TIO-540-AF1B

TBO (hrs.): 2000

Horsepower@altitude: 270@SL to 20,000 ft.

Fuel type: 100/100LL

Propeller type: McCauley 3-blade CS
Landing gear type: Tri./Retr.

Gross weight (lbs.): 3368

Landing weight (lbs.): 3200

Empty weight, std. (lbs.): 2355

Useful load, std. (lbs.): 1013

Useful fuel, std. (gals.): 102

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.): 401

Wingspan: 36 ft. 1 in.

Overall length: 26 ft. 9 in.

Height: 8 ft. 4 in.

Wing area (sq. ft.): 175

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.): 19.3

Power loading (lbs./hp): 12.5

Seating capacity: 4

Cabin doors: 1

Cabin width (in.): 43.5

PERFORMANCE

CRUISE SPEED, 75% power (kts.): 214

MAX RANGE (nm): 1150

FUEL CONSUMPTION, 75% power (gph): 17.6

Vso (kts.): 59

Best rate of climb, SL (fpm): 1130

Takeoff ground roll (ft.): 1080

Takeoff over 50-ft. obstacle (ft.): 2050

Landing ground roll (ft.): 1200

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.): 2600

Great Handheld Gadgets!

2007-08-19T19:41:00.000-04:00

Glass-cockpit functionality in a carry-on package

By John D. Ruley

Most airplanes in the general aviation fleet were built more than 20 years ago and have old-fashioned “steam gauge” panels that induce glass-cockpit envy among pilots who get a peek at the latest flight decks from such companies as Avidyne, Chelton and Garmin. Fortunately, there’s an amazingly simple cure: A wide range of carry-on gadgets are available that provide glass-cockpit functions in a handheld package. In this issue, we briefly cover more than a dozen products that span the gamut, from simple digital E6B computers to full-function portable multi-function displays!

Sporty’s SP-200 NAV/COM Transceiver
Alternators fail and batteries won’t keep your radio stack operating for long. Sporty’s SP-200 provides a vital backup when that happens: it’s a complete VHF NAV/COM (including ILS localizer functionality) that weighs just over one pound and fits nicely into your flight bag or a seat-back pocket. Features include a “last frequency” recall button, 8.33 KHz channel spacing, 2,280 COMM channels, 200 NAV channels, OBS functionality, duplex functionality (transmit on COM and listen on NAV) and five-watt output power. It runs on eight AA batteries; accessories include a rechargeable battery pack, headset adapter and belt clip.
Suggested price is $279.00.
Contact: www.sportys.com, (800) 776-7897.

ARINC eFlyBook
There’s an old Air Force saying that no airplane leaves the ground until the weight of the paper equals the weight of the pilot—and those of us who’ve flown long cross-country IFR know it’s sometimes true. ARINC’s eFlyBook promises to change that: It’s a 13.7-ounce electronic document viewer with an 8.1-inch “electronic paper” display that allows pilots to store and view FAA en route charts, terminal procedures, approach and departure procedures and airport diagrams. On-screen annotation is available using eFlyBook’s built-in stylus, and it’s easy to keep your charts up to date with updates delivered on CD-ROM. Suggested price is $1,499.
Contact: www.eflybook.com, (888) 406-7388.

NavAero tPad 800
Laptop or notebook PCs are great flight-planning platforms, but any pilot who’s tried to do so in the cockpit can tell you that they’re not ideal for use in such environs. NavAero’s tPad800 solves this problem: It’s a display device that straps to your leg and connects by cable to your laptop, which can go under your seat. The tPad 800 offers a stunning 8.4-inch display with brightness that can be adjusted for use in bright sunlight or the darkest night; a touch screen allows you to select menu items, press on-screen buttons or even input text (using an on-screen keyboard, one letter at a time).
Suggested price is $1,895; doesn’t include notebook PC or software.
Contact: www.navaero.com, (866) 628-2376.

Advanced Data Research
FG-1000 EFB
Advanced Data Research offers the FG-1000 Electronic Flight Bag (EFB): A Fujitsu P1500 tablet PC that runs Microsoft Windows XP Tablet PC Edition software. The computer offers an 8.9-inch daylight-visible display with touch-screen input, convertible form factor with built-in keyboard, 1.2 GHz Pentium-M processor, 512 MB RAM, 30 GB hard disk and built-in wireless connectivity. It’s compatible with most flight-planning, moving-map and weather-avoidance software that runs on Microsoft Windows.
Prices start at $2,295.
Contact: www.adrsoft.com, (248) 299-5300.

Nielsen-Kellerman Kestrel 4000 Pocket Weather Tracker
Nielsen-Kellerman’s Kestrel 4000 Pocket Weather Tracker is a great backup tool to use at smaller airports that don’t have their own weather reporting. In addition to wind speed, barometric pressure, temperature, altitude and dew point, it also calculates wind chill, relative humidity, heat-stress index and density altitude. Up to 2,000 measurements are stored in the Kestrel 4000’s built-in memory, and may be charted on the unit’s built-in LCD display or uploaded to a PC. The unit is available in black, orange or olive drab.
Suggested price is $349.
Contact: www.nkhome.com, (610) 447-1555.

AvMap GeoPilot PLUS
AvMap’s GeoPilot PLUS is a compact GPS navigator that can be used in the air and (with optional terrestrial maps) for turn-by-turn navigation on the ground. It offers a wealth of pilot-friendly features, including a bright 5.6-inch color display, oversized control buttons and a unique thumbstick cursor control. The customizable display allows a map view with or without data fields to be used alone or in combination with a simulated HSI/RMI presentation. The unit comes preloaded with a Jeppesen North America database, which includes low-altitude Victor airways, and a terrain database that enables full TAWS functionality for complete situational awareness. Other features include flight planning, flight computer functions and a built-in speaker.
Suggested price is $999.
Contact: www.avmap.us, (800) 363-2627.

Vertex Standard VXA-710 Spirit Air Band Transceiver
More than the typical handheld backup for your voice radio, the Vertex VX-710 offers coverage of the entire VHF aircraft band including both NAV and COMM frequencies. It also receives FM broadcast band, U.S. broadband radio service (BRS)—with Continuous Tone-Coded Squelch System (CTCSS) and Digital-Coded Squelch (DCS) functionality—and NOAA weather radio transmissions. All this functionality comes in a rugged magnesium case designed to survive after 30 minutes submerged in three feet of water.
Suggested price is $550, but you should shop around for a better deal.
Contact: www.vertexstandard.com, (714) 827-7600.

Stenbock & Everson ChartCase Pro
Pilots of older airplanes with “steam gauge” panels can carry-on a complete portable glass cockpit with ChartCase Pro software from Stenbock & Everson. When used with a GPS and WxWorx satellite weather receiver, the software turns a tablet PC into a class-1 electronic flight bag (EFB), including in-cockpit weather (both NEXRAD and satellite) and digital charting (all U.S. sectional, WAC, low/high en route charts, approach plates and taxi diagrams). All charts are geo-referenced and provide full moving-map functionality. Suggested price is $395 for software only, and $2,500 for the complete system bundled with a Samsung Q1 Tablet PC, Bluetooth/WAAS-enabled GPS, WxWorx Weather Receivers and power devices. A subscription is required for chart revisions.
Contact: www.flightprep.com, (503) 678-4360.

RMS Technology Flitesoft Express
Pilots who carry Pocket PC devices based on the Microsoft Windows Mobile operating system will find many uses for Flitesoft Express—software that offers flight planning, weather, weight and balance, moving map and even an emergency attitude indicator function based on GPS input. It’s compatible with saved routes and pilot files from Flitesoft’s desktop flight-planning product and can also present XM Satellite Weather data. The $149 price tag is for software, and is only available to existing Flitesoft customers.
Contact: www.rmstek.com, (800) 533-3211.

Mercury Computer Systems VistaNav 2.0
Mercury Computer Systems calls their VistaNav “the first portable MFD with 3-D synthetic vision.” Hosted on a Motion Computing tablet PC, VistaNav software generates a synthetic 3-D view of terrain, “providing a cockpit-like view regardless of external conditions,” in addition to a conventional moving-map display. The software also provides flight-planning features and can display weather data (including NEXRAD imagery) from a satellite radio receiver.
Prices start at $4,299.
Contact: www.vistanav.com, (866) 627-1671.

Hilton Software LLC WingX 2.0
WingX 2.0 premier edition offers a range of features including weight and balance for hundreds of aircraft, NACO charts (including airport diagrams and approach procedures), route planning (including automatic optimization for best cruise altitude), weather (including NEXRAD radar and satellite imagery), access to airport/facility directory information and GPS-enabled E6B functionality. A SmartTaxi feature not only shows your location on an airport, but also indicates which runway you’re on and how much space is available ahead. Suggested price is $129.95.
Contact: www.hiltonsoftware.com, (866) 429-4649.

Production Software eFAD 1.31
Electronic Facilities & Airport Directory (eFAD) features airport and navaid information, runways, Land and Hold Short Operations, ILS, pilot-controlled lighting, control tower information and weather data (including METAR/TAF, winds aloft, pilot reports and NEXRAD radar graphics). Among other things, airport information includes FBOs, repair stations, parachute-jumping areas, FAA flight standards offices and flight service stations, NOTAMs, special-use airspace, airline service, NTSB reports, tail numbers, approach charts and diagrams, E6-B functions, an aviation dictionary, Federal Aviation Regulations, traffic statistics, location maps, en route radio stations and travel information (including transportation, lodging and restaurants). Suggested price is $79.99 for a one-year subscription.
Contact: www.pspda.com, (800) 818-1168.

ASA CX-2 Pathfinder Flight Computer
Why struggle with an old-fashioned analog E6B when you can have a bright digital display? ASA’s CX-2 offers standard E6B functions, such as true airspeed, groundspeed, Mach number, density altitude, fuel calculations, headings and courses, time/speed/distance calculations and wind, as well as weight and balance. It runs on four AAA batteries, and is accepted for use in FAA and Canadian aviation exams. Suggested price is $79.95.
Contact: www.asa2fly.com, (800) 272-2359.

ASA Flight Timer 2
While many pilots wear an oversized “pilot watch” with chronometer functions, a rough day in the soup is the wrong time to squint at your wrist, trying to figure out which button to push. ASA’s Flight Timer 2 is a dedicated pilot’s timer with a large backlit display, local and Zulu time, three simultaneous timers, digital notepad function for squawk codes and frequencies, up to 12 memorized approach times, audible and visible alarms, fuel timer and a 10th and 100th of a second stopwatch. The suggested price is $49.95.
Contact: www.asa2fly.com, (800) 272-2359.

Jeppesen NavSuite
Since the 1930s, airline pilots have relied on Jeppesen’s loose-leaf airway manual for en route and approach navigation. Today, Jeppesen’s navigational database is available in state-of-the-art software that combines flight-planning, electronic-charting and moving-map functionality. Based on Jeppesen’s worldwide database of terrain, navaids, special-use airspace, airports and other relevant data, NavSuite provides electronic access to VFR and IFR en route charts, approach plates, approach and departure procedures, airport diagrams and much more. It’s compatible with Windows-based PCs for use on the ground, and Windows-based Electronic Flight Bag (EFB) hardware in the air. Prices vary depending on coverage and are generally comparable to those of paper chart subscriptions.
Contact: www.jeppesen.com, (800) 621-5377.

King Schools Pocket PC E6B Software
King’s Pocket PC E6B Software turns Microsoft’s Windows Mobile operating system into a graphical E6B with some 40 flight-related features including graphical weight and balance, density altitude, speed, distance, Zulu time conversions and dual independent timers that operate in both countdown and elapsed-time modes.
Suggested price is $49.95.
Contact: www.kingschools.com, (800) 854-1001.

Garmin GPSMAP 496
Garmin calls their amazing GPSMAP 496 a “mini-MFD,” and it certainly offers a plethora of features more commonly seen on MFDs in modern glass-cockpit aircraft, including 12-channel GPS-WAAS navigation, moving map, terrain and a simulated control panel that provides emergency instrumentation. Other features include complete databases of navaids, airways, Garmin’s exclusive SafeTaxi feature for more than 650 U.S. airports and data from AOPA’s airport directory. The unit can display weather data from an optional XM Satellite Radio receiver—all in a package that weighs less than one pound.
Suggested price is $2,995.
Contact: www.garmin.com, (800) 800-1020.

Digital Cyclone Pilot My-Cast
Up-to-date weather is critical for every pilot, and with Pilot My-Cast, a customized aviation weather report is as close as your cellular phone. Features include animated color NEXRAD Doppler radar, METARs, TAFs, satellite loops, moving weather maps, TFRs, AIRMETs, SIGMETs, PIREPs, winds aloft and even lightning data. A subscription costs $12.95 per month plus a $9.95 setup fee or $129.95 per year.
Contact: www.my-cast.com, (866) 669-2278.

Earning A Tailwheel Endorsement

2007-08-18T19:40:00.000-04:00

Andover Flight Academy’s stick and rudder training brings out the bush pilot in everyone.

Text & Photography By Jessica Ambats

It’s still an airplane,” insisted Damian DelGaizo, as I hesitantly leveled out over a grass strip much shorter than I was used to. “Don’t overthink it.” In the flare, I tried my best to pretend that the Top Cub’s main wheels weren’t actually there, per Damian’s coaching, but it’s not that easy to ignore 31-inch tundra tires. Easing the stick back, I focused on the tailwheel instead. After a dance between altitude, airspeed and imagination, we touched down on all three wheels. But before I could even exhale—“Rudder, rudder, rudder!” exclaimed my instructor. “Stay alive on the rudder.” Although we were earthbound, the landing was far from over. Small jabs—playful yet authoritative—on the rudder pedals kept our yellow beauty pointed in the same direction we were moving. Slowing down, small inputs became large ones, and we rolled to a stop on the bumpy grass.

One wouldn’t expect to go bush flying only 50 miles from New York City, yet with a bit of ingenuity Damian’s school, Andover Flight Academy, succeeds in creating challenging and realistic backcountry settings in rural New Jersey. With parallel grass and paved runways bordered by lakes on both ends, Aeroflex-Andover Airport (which is contained entirely within a state park) can be as challenging as you make it—and Damian does. The school’s training playground extends to nearby strips; one has a path cut out through trees at such an angle that you don’t even see the runway until short final, and all have the potential for wildlife crossings, including bears.

With more than 15,000 hours of mostly tailwheel time, Damian began the “college of taildragger knowledge” in 1987 as an extension of his love for bush flying. For more than 25 years, the tailwheel expert has taught the likes of actors Harrison Ford and James Brolin as well as pilots from Africa and Europe.

Even if you don’t own or ever plan to own a taildragger, the training is still beneficial. Lest you develop bad habits from flying nosewheel aircraft (which are more forgiving), Damian and his team of instructors have the fix. “Over the last 10 years, I’ve noticed a deterioration in stick and rudder skills,” he said. “Students often suffer from a lack of situational awareness, chasing gauges and losing sight of flying the airplane. We provide tailwheel endorsements, but the training encompasses basic airmanship, which is becoming a lost art.”

With most of my flight time in a glass-panel Cirrus SR22, I was anxious to learn what my transition would entail. I spent two intense days training with Damian to find out.

Our learning platform was a 2005 CubCrafters Top Cub, the newest addition to Andover Flight Academy’s fleet, which also includes a Piper J-3 (L-4) Cub and a 1943 Boeing Stearman PT-17. The modern-day Super Cub looks like its predecessor but has a stronger fuselage, a more powerful engine (180 hp Lycoming O-360) and an increased gross weight (2,300 pounds). Optional goodies include Garmin avionics and Bose headset connections, but as is typical of taildraggers, it’s not what’s inside that’s important—instead, the Top Cub is about flying and feeling.

“We’ve got the world’s biggest glass cockpit—it’s right outside the windshield,” joked Damian. “I’m not saying that gauges aren’t important, but flying solely by numbers is like paint-by-numbers. At the end of the day, you might have the Mona Lisa, but it ain’t quite the same.” A taildragger demands finesse of its pilot, who learns to feel the aircraft and fly by the “seat of their pants.”

The tandem two-seat aircraft cruises at 127 mph, and vortex generators (which come standard) reduce stall speed to just 48 mph. With takeoffs and landings easily accomplished in 300 to 350 feet, the short-field star makes the 1,981-foot runways at Andover seem to stretch forever.

Our plan was to fly two sessions per day, with plenty of ground school before, between and after. My pre-arrival homework had been to practice soft-field landings in a nosewheel aircraft to get a feel for the sight picture of a taildragger. I practiced in a Cessna 172 until I could do touch-and-goes without ever letting the nose touch down, but I constantly found myself peering over the front of the aircraft, rather than using my peripheral vision. This was disconcerting, as I knew I wouldn’t be able to “cheat” like this with Damian watching from behind.

Ground School

Although the flight school has a casual atmosphere—old jeans and baseball caps are de rigueur—Damian and his staff take training very seriously. In a wood-paneled office cluttered with countless aviation mementos, I sat on a worn-out floppy sofa while my tailwheel guru used a dry erase board and a wooden aircraft model—everything’s “old school” at Andover—during two hours of thorough ground school.

A discussion ensued about the main differences between nosewheel and tailwheel aircraft: ground handling, amount of backstick on landing and sight picture. The geometry and location of the center of gravity in relation to the main gear makes taildraggers less forgiving. Groundloops—to be avoided at all costs—are preceded by a swerve. And should a swerve occur, apply opposite rudder and brake, and follow with a “popping or pulsing” of the throttle while applying ailerons into the swerve. Easy, right? I sank into the sofa.

“A taildragger always wants to rotate into the wind,” explained Damian as I took copious notes, “therefore it’s crucial to use controls properly while taxiing and think ahead of the plane.” If it’s a quartering headwind, climb into the wind; a quartering tailwind, dive away. Because of the limited visibility on the ground, it’s often necessary to taxi using S-turns, but be aware that the tail can hit lights and other objects. When pivoting, use power then brake, but keep the tire spinning so as not to lock it. Avoid high rpm on the ground, which could send too much wind over the elevators.

“You can learn a lot about an airplane just by looking at it,” he continued. “If it has a small rudder and large elevator, don’t get the tail up too quickly.” During acceleration on takeoff, smaller rudder inputs are used, and while decelerating on landing, larger rudder inputs will be required. And apparently, it makes a difference whether you press the rudders using your thighs or ankles—not something I had ever considered. “Put your heels on the floor and flex your ankles,” he advised. “This way you can make faster and lighter inputs—a tap dance on the rudder.”

My task on takeoff would be to concentrate on the ever-important rudder, and not the stick. From a three-point attitude to a two-point attitude to rotation, I should be guided by the edges of the runway out of my peripheral vision.

Power settings and speeds for the pattern were straightforward: on downwind at 2,100 rpm, abeam the landing spot at 1,500 rpm, first notch of flaps at 70 mph, on base throw in the second notch of flaps at 65 to 70 mph, and on final maintain 60 to 65 mph.

I should begin to level off at 10 feet above the ground, and finish leveling off at six feet. That seemed awfully precise, but Damian explained how to manage it by taking control of the sight picture: “Change your sight picture before leveling off. Don’t let the airplane’s position change it for you.” When the runway was made, I was to look down to the end of the runway. And that’s all there was to it—at least on the dry erase board.

In The Air

At first glance the school’s Top Cub can appear intimidating. Sitting atop 31-inch Alaskan Bushwheels (which, Damian thoughtfully pointed out, would make my training more challenging due to the higher deck angle) attached to three-inch extended heavy-duty landing gear, it felt a bit like the aviation version of a monster truck.

The Top Cub is flown solo from the front seat, so my instructor climbed in the back. Right off the bat I had trouble with the heel brakes—it just didn’t feel natural. I was eager to fly, but Damian had more patience. We progressed from high-speed straight taxis to step-by-step (or “bite-by-bite”) taxis, moving from centerline to the right and left of the runway.

For the initial takeoff, I had to keep my hands in my lap and use only rudder. With each subsequent takeoff, we added a new step until I knew by feel when the tail should be raised. We practiced shallow and steep turns, as well as slow flight and stalls.

In the pattern, we worked on three-point landings with full flaps, 50% flaps and no flaps. After each landing, we paused to discuss my performance and the surroundings (“Look at those birds in a thermal on short final. They indicate unstable air, so be prepared.”) before taking off again. These mini-debriefs helped greatly.

During the second session of the day, the focus was on slips and engine outs. With each pattern, the voice in my headset sounded less often, and I flew without any coaching. We practiced crosswind landings and takeoffs with a “snake dance”: roll onto one wheel, then both, then the other wheel
and reverse.

The next morning found us back at the dry erase board. “Wheel landings are like landing a 172,” said Damian. “Use the same flare, but then gently push the nose forward to hold the wheels on the ground.” But as simple as it sounded, I flared too high and pushed the nose forward too abruptly. A few patterns later, it clicked, and after alternating between wheel landings and three-point landings, touch-and-goes and full-stops, Damian announced that I had successfully completed the course. His endorsement in my logbook represented a secret code to a formerly inaccessible world, and I felt, well, kind of cool.

You can learn a lot in one weekend, but not everything. It’s important to fly often and under different conditions to keep your skills sharp. Andover Flight Academy offers an Advanced Tailwheel/Bush Flying Course, focusing on extreme short- and soft-field techniques, and operating in confined areas. Transition training, biplane checkouts and aerobatics training are also provided in the Stearman.

As I headed back to California, I wondered if the tailwheel experience might somehow interfere with or contradict my training in the high-performance Cirrus. But what I found was that even though the Top Cub has completely different handling characteristics, lessons learned in a taildragger can be applied to any aircraft. Always keep coordinated, fly using sight pictures and most importantly, stay on top of the rudder.

10 New Planes Under $100K

2007-08-17T06:48:00.000-04:00

The benefits of LIGHT-SPORT Aircraft extend beyond sport pilots to recreational and private pilots as well

By Dan Ramsey

Until recently, buying a new aircraft meant shelling out $200,000 or more—even if all you wanted to do was get into the air for some fun flying, either solo or with a passenger. Of course, you could opt for an older aircraft, but airworthiness directives and maintenance costs quickly boost the actual costs. Or you could build your own airplane for much less—provided you took a year off from work. Fortunately, the many new light-sport aircraft (LSA) coming to market offer you cost-effective options.

Since the sport-pilot/LSA rules went into effect in 2004, approximately 40 models have appeared! And they’re not just for folks with the new sport-pilot certificate. Private pilots can buy and fly them, too.

What’s an LSA? First off, an LSA isn’t a type-certificated aircraft like your Cirrus, Columbia, Cessna or Piper. In fact, so many new aircraft are available in the marketplace because the FAA changed the rules to allow aircraft manufacturers to agree on safe construction standards, called consensus standards. All LSAs are built to comply with standards established by the American Society of Testing and Materials (ASTM). Building an ASTM-compliant aircraft places most of the burden on the manufacturer, but it saves them the millions of dollars it would have cost to develop an FAA type-certificated aircraft. LSAs are safe aircraft, just not as expensive.

An LSA is defined as a single-engine (nonturbine) aircraft with fixed landing gear (amphibians can have retracting wheels) that’s designed to transport two occupants. Maximum gross weight (plane, pilot, passenger, fuel, luggage, lunch) is limited to 1,320 pounds. Maximum airspeed is 120 knots (about 138 mph) and maximum stall speed is 45 knots (about 51 mph). Among the new LSA models you’ll see everything from Cub-clones to composites. Some are modern versions of designs that have been proven in classic aircraft, while others are imports from Europe and Australia where lighter aircraft have been in the marketplace for more than a decade.

The really good thing about LSAs is that—if you’re willing to accept some of their limitations—you can purchase a brand-new, two-seat, fast-enough VFR aircraft for less than half of what you’d pay for a type-certificated four-seater. The 10 new best-selling LSAs shown here are all priced under $100,000 for a basic, ready-to-fly, VFR aircraft. And many of them are under $80,000—less than the price of a high-end SUV.

If you already have or are working toward your private-pilot certificate, an LSA is a great flying option. You don’t have to hold a sport-pilot certificate to fly LSAs. In fact, your private ticket will let you do more with an LSA than a sport pilot is legally allowed. Sport pilots can’t fly in controlled airspace without additional training and endorsements. They can’t fly above 10,000 feet MSL. They can fly VFR during the daytime, but not at night. And, for now, they can’t fly outside of the United States.

If none of these restrictions bother you, and you don’t yet have your pilot certificate, or the medical has expired (not been revoked), you could opt for the less-expensive but more-restrictive sport-pilot certificate. Why would you? Because it’s simpler and cheaper—just like LSAs.

There are about 40 ready-to-fly LSAs available in the marketplace, with more released monthly. The models presented here are the 10 most popular LSAs per the FAA Registry and the Light Aircraft Manufacturers Association (LAMA). Other great LSAs, such as the Remos G-3 and CubCrafter’s Sport Cub, are relatively new to the market and as such, didn’t make the list. Prices listed in this article are for basic models and will vary depending on equipment and, in some cases, monetary exchange rates. If you don’t find what you want here, check out the other 30 models, or consider one of the hundreds of experimental aircraft, ultralights and classic aircraft that qualify as LSA under the new rules.

You can even equip an LSA for IFR, and a private pilot with an instrument rating can fly it IFR. A private pilot can fly an equipped LSA at night, too. Just remember that the plane itself is limited to you and one passenger. If that works for you, go for it—and keep the change.

Whether you fly with a sport-pilot, recreation-pilot or private-pilot certificate, LSAs are more economical to buy, rent and operate than most other aircraft. If costs are important to your flying, consider an LSA for your next aircraft.

1. FLIGHT DESIGN CT (www.flightdesignusa.com)
Built in Germany by Flight Design GmbH, the CT models (CT2K and CTSW) are proven designs that have earned airworthiness certificates in the United States as LSAs. Built of formed composites (carbon fiber and Kevlar) and powered by a Rotax 912 ULS (four-stroke 100 hp) engine, the CTSW cruises at 120 knots with a range that’s more than 1,000 miles (at 90 knots). There are about 300 CTs flying worldwide. Basic VFR versions start at about $93,000 including a BRS parachute.

2. LEGEND CUB (www.legend.aero)
Constructed in Texas, the Legend Cub is based on the legendary Piper J-3 Cub of the 1930s that’s still popular with low-and-slow pilots. Cruise speed is 95 mph and stall speed is 38 mph. The engine is a Continental O-200 (100 hp) or a Jabiru (120 hp). Range is about 270 miles in this tandem-seating classic. Prices start at about $85,000 (depending on the engine) plus radios.
3. TL STINGSPORT (www.sting.aero)
Built in the Czech Republic and shipped to the United States for final assembly, the TL StingSport is an all-composite aircraft with a variety of options available. Even so, the StingSport stays under our $100K maximum price tag, unless you start loading on IFR and other non-LSA stuff. It’s available with Rotax 912 UL (80 hp) or 912 ULS (100 hp) engines.

4. FANTSASY AIR ALLEGRO (www.fantasyairusa.com)
The Allegro 2000 has a composite fuselage with metal wings. Power is from a Rotax 912 UL or ULS engine. The basic VFR, ready-to-fly model is priced under $60,000. Cruise speed with the 912 ULS engine is 112 mph. The Allegro is designed and built in the Czech Republic and shipped to North Carolina for finishing. Mostly done kits are also available. There are about 500 Allegros flying worldwide.

5. TECNAM SIERRA & BRAVO (www.tecnamaircraft.com)
From Italy comes the Tecnam aircraft: Sierra (low-wing) and Bravo (high-wing). Both are all-aluminum, powered by a Rotax 912 ULS (100 hp). The ready-to-fly VFR prices for each of these sisters begin at about $75,000.

6. EVEKTOR SPORTSTAR (www.evektoramerica.com)
Another European entry, the Evektor SportStar uses the standard 100 hp Rotax 912 ULS engine with a 1,500-hour TBO. The all-aluminum aircraft is bonded and riveted for strength. The price for a fly-it-home VFR SportStar begins at about $100,000.

7. ZODIACH 601 XL (www.newplane.com)
Designed by Chris Heintz, the Zodiac series was a popular experimental kit aircraft well before LSAs were approved. The CH 601 model and its variations are all-metal, two-seat, Continental-powered, low-wing aircraft. The kits are built by Aircraft Manufacturing and Development in Missouri, and the ready-to-fly craft is built by American Manufacturing and Development (AMD) in Georgia. Prices for the basic VFR version start at about $80,000. The IFR version is about
$15,000 more.

8. INDUS SKYSKOOTER & THORPEDO (www.indusav.com)
The SkySkooter and Thorpedo are the same plane (based on the proven Thorp T-211, at one time certified by the FAA) with different engines. The SkySkooter is the 85 hp version, and the Thorpedo has a 100 hp engine. SkySkooter is priced at about $80,000, and the Thorpedo is $5,000 more. Both are also available as experimental LSAs (E-LSAs), which are 90% complete with the new owner finishing it at the Dallas, Texas, factory at a savings of $7,000 each. On the other end, IFR versions add about $16,000 to each model.

9. RANS S-7LS (www.rans.com)
From Kansas comes the RANS S-7LS, based on a kit aircraft that has been around for more than two decades. Powered, as are many LSAs, by a Rotax 912 ULS (100 hp) engine, the S-7LS, also known as the Courier, features tandem seating and aluminum-frame, fabric-covered wings. Cruise speed is 118 mph. The RANS S-7LS is ready-to-fly starting at $80,000—or sold as a you-build-it kit for about half that price.

10. KAPPA KP-5 (www.kappaaircraft.com)
Designed and built by Jihlavan in the Czech Republic, the Kappa KP-5 is a popular all-metal aircraft with a useful load of 583 pounds. Powered by a Rotax 912 ULS 100 hp engine, the Kappa KP-5 has fowler flaps and trailing-link landing gear for short-field operations. A wider cockpit makes it easier for large pilots to fly. Maximum cruise speed is 138 mph. Ready-to-fly prices start at $94,000.

From The Editor - Never Ending Learning Process

2007-08-16T09:22:00.001-04:00

By Steven D. Werner

Trainer planes come in all shapes and sizes, as do pilots. But all aviators seem to be dreamers. Fourteen-year-old Jonathan Strickland set a goal, worked hard and made his visions a reality. We traveled with Jonathan to Canada, where he soloed both a Cessna 152 and Robinson R22 on the same day, becoming the youngest person ever to do so!

Senior Editor Bill Cox reports on the Liberty XL-2, a two-seat trainer powered by a FADEC-controlled Continental IOF-240B. The roomy aircraft has a conventional stick, but brakes are controlled via a finger lever on the center console. For more advanced students, the Piper Seminole is a popular choice among entry-level multi-engine trainers. Students and instructors love the aircraft’s gentle handling
characteristics; schools love its easy maintainability.

Even if you already have every rating you’ve ever wanted, you can still train to keep your skills sharp. Budd Davisson walks us through the Practical Test Standards as he challenges pilots to perform checkrides on themselves. And if you’ve got the pre-checkride jitters, you’re not alone. We take our checkride in a Cirrus SR22 and realize that it’s normal to be nervous before meeting the FAA examiner.

Also in this issue, author John Ruley reviews Microsoft Flight Simulator X, which features aircraft from a J-3 Cub to an Extra 300 and a Boeing 747. With several airplanes, the Garmin G1000 glass cockpit is an option.

In continuing our increased coverage of light-sport aircraft, we bring you the Czech-built Skylark. The all-metal aircraft has a large cabin with a forward-sliding canopy and conventional stick.

Dova Skylark LSA

2007-08-15T10:25:00.001-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Base price: $100,600

Engine make/model: Rotax 912S

TBO (hrs.): 1500

Horsepower@altitude: 100@SL

Fuel type: 100/100LL

Propeller type: Fixed Pitch

Landing gear type: Tri./Fixed

Max ramp weight (lbs): 1320

Gross weight (lbs.): 1320

Landing weight (lbs.): 1320

Empty weight, std. (lbs.): 653

Useful load, std. (lbs.): 667

Useful fuel, std. (gals.): 24

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.): 523

Wingspan: 26 ft.

Overall length: 21 ft. 7 in.

Height: 7 ft. 5 in.

Wing area (sq. ft.): 101

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.): 13.1

Power loading (lbs./hp): 13.2

Seating capacity: 2

Cabin width (in.): 43

PERFORMANCE

CRUISE SPEED, 75% power (kts.): 117

FUEL CONSUMPTION, 75% power (gph): 4.0

MAX RANGE (nm):
75% power: 457
60% power: 543

Vso (kts.): 37
Service ceiling (ft.): 14,000
Best rate of climb (fpm.): 1200
Takeoff ground roll (ft.): 500
Landing ground roll (ft.): 530

Liberty XL-2: Trainer With A Difference

2007-08-14T13:13:00.001-04:00

Cross-country comfort and performance enter the two-seat, flight-training class

By Bill Cox • Photography By Jessica Ambats

Two-seat general aviation airplanes have had a checkered career at best. For every Cessna 150/152 or Citabria that’s had a model run of 30 years, there have been a half-dozen other types that only lasted for three or five.

The short-termers may have been no less viable as trainers or fun two-seaters, but they nevertheless failed to survive. Fact is, two-seaters are generally a tough sell, even if statistics prove that most of us rarely use all four seats in our quartet airplanes. (It’s been 12 years since I’ve filled all the seats in my Mooney.)

Truth is, flying with two seats empty is an expensive habit that too many of us simply accept as normal. (“Yeah, but I can carry all the baggage I want, even 100 Swiss Army Knives, large bottles of shampoo and an oxygen bottle.”) Four-seaters are inherently more costly for a number of reasons. By definition, they’re larger airplanes, with more wetted area and usually greater equivalent flat-plate area, therefore more drag. Similarly, they weigh more than an equivalent two-seater, which means they need more power to preserve acceptable performance, which means increased fuel burn, which demands larger tanks, which adds more weight, which subtracts from payload, which often necessitates a larger wing to support the load, which means…you get the idea.

All these factors elevate hourly operating costs and make it impossible to produce a four-seater at anywhere near a two-seat price. The bottom line is that those of us who choose to fly four-place airplanes, with only two of those places occupied, pay for the extra two empty seats anyway—in spades.

In fact, we all know two seats would work just fine for the vast majority of general aviation missions. In some instances, even business travelers could utilize two-seaters. Years ago, the National Business Aircraft Association surveyed its members on how they use their airplanes and determined that the average stage length was less than 400 nm, typically carrying only 2.54 passengers.

Liberty Aerospace of Melbourne, Fla., hopes to capitalize on those numbers with an airplane that’s very different in several important respects. It brings to the two-seater market an uncommonly large cabin, along with near four-seat/fixed-gear performance and a level of fail-safe design that would be the envy of a NASA engineer.

First, the XL-2 isn’t a one-trick pony. True, it’s designed to carry only two folks, but those two aren’t confined to instructor and student. They can as easily be husband and wife on vacation, two buddies in search of the $50 breakfast or possibly two business associates making the rounds.

The Liberty XL-2 is loosely based on the Europa design born in the U.K. in 1992. In this case, “loosely based” is an exercise in understatement. Park the two aircraft side by side, and you’d note a myriad of differences. Despite the Europa’s acknowledged innovations, the Liberty design is light years ahead in virtually every area.

Ivan Shaw, an Airbus engineer, designed the Europa, and his concept was to produce a “light touring aircraft.” The Europa was Shaw’s experimental, Rotax-powered kitplane, essentially a motorglider that balanced on a single wheel with outrigger wheels to keep the wingtips from dragging on the ground. Some 1,000 kits were sold in 32 countries during the 1990s. The Europa was a revelation for the time and won a number of awards in Europe.

The Liberty was launched at the turn of the century and developed over the last half-dozen years in search of its FAA certificate. The Feds issued that authorization last spring, making the XL-2 the first two-seat piston aircraft certified in the United States since the Piper Tomahawk. (Before Diamond fans object, consider that the C1 was first certified in Austria, then, approved in America under reciprocal agreement.) The Liberty also has the distinction of being the first piston airplane fully approved for FADEC (full authority digital engine control) operation.

The XL-2’s structure is about as 21st century as Liberty could make it. Its fuselage is pre-preg carbon fiber, and the 4130 tube-steel frame absorbs loads from the engine, nosegear, main gear and wing attach points. The XL-2’s wing is also a little unusual. Designed by European aerospace engineer Don Dykins, who had a hand in choosing sections for the Concorde wing, the Liberty’s relatively small 112-square-foot airfoil provides a cruise of more like Mach .20 than Mach 2.0. (As partial compensation, the XL-2 burns only about 6 gph, compared to about 8,000 gph on the Concorde.)

The XL-2’s wing is a true natural laminar flow (NLF) airfoil, maintaining attached laminar flow far back on the chord. Dykins also fitted the XL-2 with multiple sets of vortex generators on the outer wing to help preserve aileron response at high angles of attack, providing better roll control when approaching, and actually in, the stall.

Motive force on the Liberty is a four-cylinder, Continental IOF-240B engine driving a fixed-pitch Sensenich prop. You’ll notice the letter “I” at the beginning of the model number, designating fuel injection. That’s an unusual technology for such a small engine. Fuel injection is a relatively expensive feature, normally applied only to engines of 160 hp or more. The overriding benefit of fuel injection is that it allows very precise fuel distribution between cylinders, and that translates directly to reduced fuel burn. Injection in place of carburetion was necessary to accommodate the Continental’s PowerLink FADEC system.

True to its promised “full authority,” FADEC operates through a computerized electronic ignition system. The FADEC scans all aspects of engine operation several times a second, evaluating temperature, air pressure, CHT, EGT, fuel and manifold pressure, the phase of the moon and your astrological sign; then, it automatically adjusts mag timing and mixture for all stages of flight, from takeoff and climb to cruise, descent and landing.

From the pilot’s perspective, FADEC is totally transparent. Once you start the engine, you merely push forward to go and pull back to stop. FADEC does the rest.

Engine health reads out through a Vision Microsystems VM1000 that serves as an EICAS—airline speak for Engine Instrument Crew Alerting System. The system reads power in percentages, and it automatically warns the pilots if any parameter approaches tolerance limits.

Climb into the cabin through the twin gull-wing doors, and you’ll find a space that’s surprisingly roomy for what we’ve come to expect from a two-place machine. Old-generation two-seaters, such as the Skipper, 152 and Tomahawk, made do with internal cross sections of 40 inches or less. In stark contrast, the Liberty offers a comparatively huge cabin that measures 48 inches at the elbows. Cabin height also is a generous 46 inches. Liberty claims the cabin can accommodate a pilot and passenger as tall as six feet, six inches. The idea was to offer more than just barely enough room. This is, after all, supposed to be a “sport touring” airplane rather than strictly a trainer, so you should be able to sit in it for longer than an hour without feeling claustrophobic.

Control and panel layout is reasonably conventional—a stick for roll and pitch and the usual pedals for yaw control. One interesting variation for ground control is finger brakes. The nosewheel is full-castering, but rather than mounting toe brakes for differential braking, the Liberty utilizes two small levers on the center console that work exactly like toe brakes except with the first two fingers of the pilots’ inboard hand. There’s nothing especially difficult about the system, but you can’t help wondering what was wrong with the more conventional toe brakes. The throttle is center-mounted, so it’s not a major trick to have your outboard hand on the stick and control both brakes and power with the inboard hand. Still…

With FADEC on the job, engine starts are nearly guaranteed the first time every time. Taxi is similarly simple, and the airplane is ready to fly nearly as soon as you are. Push power full forward for takeoff, and acceleration is better than you might have expected. That’s partially a simple function of power loading. The XL-2 sports 125 hp to lift only about 1,650 pounds; the Skipper, 152 and Tomahawk all employed 115 hp or less to do roughly the same job.

Accordingly, the XL-2 records the shortest takeoff distance in the class, 750 feet. Climb typically settles in at about 700 fpm, and the little wing keeps on keeping on to a service ceiling of 14,000 feet.

On the way uphill, you can’t help but notice the XL-2’s excellent visibility. The windshield is wide and tall, and side windows in the clamshell doors wrap well back past the pilot and copilot shoulders, opening up the view to the top and through at least the front 240 degrees. It’s not quite as open as a bubble canopy, but that’s probably just as well. The overhead and side post structure provides shade that’s sometimes missing with a sliding hatch.

Put together a small, slick, efficient, NLF wing, reasonable horsepower and a lightweight airplane, and you have the makings of a quick machine for the horsepower. Sure enough, the XL-2 offers cruise more appropriate to the four-seat Cessna Skyhawk and Piper Archer. The company suggests 132 knots with everything optimized, but even 125 knots would be excellent performance with only 125 hp under the bonnet.

With 28 usable gallons in the tanks and a burn of around 6 gph at max cruise, you could reasonably expect to linger aloft for 3.5 hours and cover nearly 450 nm in the process. For those strange people who enjoy flying slow, the XL-2 will reach out to more than 500 nm at 55%. This is more than enough for training purposes, VFR or IFR, and private owners should be pleased with the combination of economy and range.

Whatever the stage length, the XL-2 makes a comfortable conveyance—roomy, modestly quiet and well ventilated. Vibration is modest with the FADEC-controlled Continental out front, and the combination of reasonable speed, good visibility and high wing loading for a better ride in turbulence contribute to a pleasant in-flight experience.

At the opposite end of the trip, the Liberty’s wide track and low CG contribute to good manners during landing. Stall with the full 30 degrees of flaps deployed is only 43 knots, so approaches as slow as 55 knots present no great challenge. Landing ground roll is less than 850 feet, which is reassuring if you fly into a short strip.

Prospective buyers are sometimes a little apprehensive about dealing with a single-product, start-up company—there’s often a greater feeling of security buying from Piper/Cessna/Beech/Cirrus/etc.—but Liberty’s backing is about as solid as it can be. While the company doesn’t have unlimited funding, it’s backed by the Kuwait Finance House of Bahrain, which owns 75% of the assets. Such solid ownership suggests reasonable financial staying power.

Base price for the XL-2 is $159,000 before avionics and other options. Liberty has embraced Garmin International’s line of radios, with the top options being the GNS530 and Mode S 330 transponder, with the GNS430 and 327 transponder as less-expensive alternatives. Plan to spend about $180,000 for a reasonably equipped VFR airplane, $200,000 for a full-on IFR machine.

The recent AOPA Convention in Palm Springs, Calif., suggested a new optimism among general aviation pilots, and the Liberty XL-2 is ideally placed to benefit from the resurgence. It’s a trainer, it’s a cross-country traveler, it’s two planes in one.

Test Yourself

2007-08-13T09:42:00.001-04:00

Let’s play the Practical Test Standards Game again

By Budd Davisson

There’s a wonderful line in a Toby Keith song that laments, “I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was.” It’s a bar room tale complaining about the aging process and the awful fact that it can’t be stopped. Luckily, that’s not necessarily true of pilots. Flying isn’t about party stamina but about skill, and that doesn’t have to slide downhill just because time is passing—assuming, of course, a pilot wants to halt that erosion.

With flying, we know, for a fact, how good we were when we started because we had to pass an entrance exam that serves as a reference point to measure from. Even better, rather than the checkride being a random obstacle course of bats, flaming dragons and boiling moats, it was guided by the same map we were given as students that, if followed, would lead us through the maze to the other side: We were trained and tested according to the Practical Test Standards (PTS) guide. Basically, if we could decipher and satisfy the gods of the PTS during our training, we’d be guaranteed (more or less) to survive the test ride. That little booklet can still come in handy because, when we ask ourselves “Are we as good now as we once were?” we can fall back on the PTS and make up our own checkride.

In case it’s been a while since you looked at one, the PTS is arranged in a chronological order that starts asking questions and setting tasks long before the candidate gets in the airplane. So that we don’t get caught up in minutiae, we’re going to ignore much of the preflight stuff except for a few goodies that we should be asking ourselves more often. From that point on, we’re off on a flight of self-discovery: we’re looking for the pilot we were at the moment the examiner handed us our ticket with the ink still damp. Hopefully, we’ll find we’ve improved with experience in all areas, But, maybe not.

Preflight Questions To Ask Ourselves

• What documents must be in the airplane and how many have to be renewed?
• Can you recite the size, configurations and equipment/weather requirements for all of the air spaces
(A, B, C, D, etc.)?
• Do you ever refer to the POH performance charts, or do you just wing it?
• Can you still work a CG problem?
• Do you know which over-the-counter medicines are on the FAA’s list of no-nos?
• When you preflight an airplane, do you actually look at it carefully, or are you just walking around it, giving it a cursory once-over while looking for parts hanging off?
• Can you explain the basics of how the different systems in the airplane work, including, but not limited to:
- trim
- flaps
- control system
- electrical system
- brakes?

Familiarity with the way the systems work is invaluable in the case of a failure in flight.

Before Taking Off

• Can you get it started in almost any weather?
• Do you know how to handle hot starts, if it’s a fuel-injected engine?
• The FAA loves checklists. Are you using yours? Checklists are a good way to avoid forgetting anything important.

Takeoff

The PTS contains some interesting and slightly contradictory language concerning takeoffs. For one thing, it mentions using “the most efficient lift-off attitude,” which we interpret as letting it run on the main gear and flying itself off, rather than pulling it off—something with which we wholeheartedly agree.

The area in this section that raises questions, however, is the suggestion that the climb speed, in this case Vy, should be in the range of five knots below to 10 knots over the prescribed speed. Every airplane has a specific climb speed that’s affected by various environmental factors (altitude, temperature, etc.). If this is why the FAA has such a wide allowable range, the PTS should state so. However, if, in a given situation, an airplane has climbed above or below the optimal number, it loses efficiency and won’t climb as well. Similar margins are applied throughout the PTS, and the same statement about efficiency applies in all cases.

So, on climbout, do you know what the climb speed (best rate or angle) is supposed to be? Do you hold it plus or minus two or three knots (not minus five or plus 10)? If you want max efficiency, you need to know and fly that number.

And do you, as outlined in the PTS, manage to correct for crosswinds, both during the takeoff and on climbout, so you’re always on the runway centerline?

Air Work

The PTS has a lot to say about various maneuvers in the air, including steep turns, S-turns across a road, rectangular patterns and turns around a point. In all of them, emphasis is placed on:

• Splitting your attention between the ground track and controlling the airplane, both of which are actually tied together. This is an excellent test of your ability to actually control the airplane.

• Without saying so, the PTS requires knowing when the groundspeed is increasing and decreasing and what effect that has on the ground track in any maneuver, whether it’s an S-turn, rectangular pattern or turn around a point. It allows altitude margins of plus or minus 100 feet, which is okay. The real question is whether you can still remember what effect changing groundspeed has on your ground track. Go out on a windy day, and see if you can still fly the maneuvers the way you did on your checkride.

In the stall section of the PTS, the FAA clearly says that you’re actually going to stall the airplane, both power off and power on, and won’t recover until the stall has actually occurred. Good for them! But how long has it been since you’ve actually practiced stalls—especially takeoff and departure stalls in which the attitude and resulting attitude change is more abrupt?

Although the FAA is clear about its desire to have the candidate experience a true stall rather than just the buffet, when it comes to spins, it goes just the opposite way. The language is “Objective: to determine that the applicant exhibits knowledge of the elements related to spin awareness by explaining…” and it goes on to talk about aerodynamic factors, situations in which spins might occur and procedures for spin recovery. This is a controversial area and one for which many CFIs think students should tiptoe right up to a spin and demonstrate that he or she can keep his or her head and fight the urge to pull. Being able to explain it is one thing. Being able to maintain your cool when it’s actually on the edge of departing is something else.

Flying The Pattern

The PTS mentions a lot of generalities about exhibiting knowledge of airport procedures, collision avoidance and other basic info. Then it states that it gives points to the candidate if he or she:

• Complies with proper traffic pattern procedures (Well, do you?)

• Maintains proper spacing from other aircraft (No one actually tailgates, do they?)

• Corrects for wind drift to maintain the proper ground track (Meaning, do you wander around on downwind or on final?)

Then it says, “maintains traffic pattern altitude, plus or minus 100 feet, and the appropriate airspeed, plus or minus 10 knots.” This last point, downwind being a 200-foot-high window, is something any self-respecting pilot should be able to tighten up easily. Half that distance is easily attainable and, in reality, most of us should stay within 25 feet of our altitude unless the weather is beating us up.

There has been an interesting change in the last few years in one part of the PTS. In the explanation of the parameter for flying the pattern, there was once a line that read, “Establishes an appropriate distance from the runway, considering the possibility of an engine failure.” That line is no longer in the PTS. Does that mean engines no longer fail? This is another issue for which a pilot should use his or her own judgment and improve on the standards set down by the PTS.

Approach And Landing

The PTS goes through all the takeoffs and landings—soft, short, normal and crosswind—clearly spelling out what’s expected of the applicant, although there’s still that 15-knot spread on approach speed with which some instructors disagree.

Interestingly, the PTS landing section states that, in every landing scenario, the applicant is expected to touch down no more than 400 feet past a selected point. Considering the wide range on the approach speeds, this is an interesting contradiction. If you’re on the high side of the PTS’s approach speed range, you’ll float like crazy. If on the low side, you’ll drop through ground effect much more quickly. Regardless, can you put your airplane down repeatedly just 400 feet past a given mark on the runway? Since you must have done it as a student pilot, you definitely ought to check to see if you can do it today.

Few to none of us are the vibrant young souls we were decades ago; however, by following the PTS in giving ourselves a checkride, we can find our weak spots and work to fix them. We’ll never be younger than we are right now, but there’s no reason that we can’t fly like we’re young.

Learn To Fly

2007-08-12T03:08:00.001-04:00

A 14-year-old boy, trained in Compton, solos both a helicopter and fixed-wing Aircraft!

Text And Photography By Jessica Ambats

If anyone thinks that they can’t do what they put their mind to, they should meet Jonathan Strickland. Like any typical teenager, his vocabulary gravitates toward words such as “yeah” and “cool.” But what sets him apart from the rest is quite extraordinary. Jonathan can’t drive a car yet, but he can fly both an airplane and a helicopter!

In June 2006, the 14-year-old carved a place in aviation history by soloing a Cessna 152 and a Robinson 22 on the same day. To accomplish this goal, he had to travel to Canada (where the age requirement is 14, as opposed to 16 in the United States). But Jonathan didn’t mind—“it’s just another excuse to fly,” he said of the 32-hour round-trip journey in a Robinson 44 from Southern California to British Columbia and back. The momentous trip earned him four world records: the youngest person to solo both a helicopter and airplane on the same day; the youngest African-American to solo a helicopter; the youngest African-American to fly a helicopter internationally; and the youngest African-American to fly a helicopter on an international round-trip.

Accompanying him was Robin Petgrave, an accomplished helicopter pilot, with more than 11,000 hours logged flying Hollywood stunts, sightseeing tours, flight training and ferry flights for his company, Celebrity Helicopters (www.celebheli.com). Robin also runs Tomorrow’s Aeronautical Museum (www.tamuseum.org), using proceeds from his other businesses as well as donations. The nonprofit organization at Compton/Woodley Airport in Los Angeles provides mentoring and outreach programs to motivate economically disadvantaged minority children.

At the museum, kids perform community service, such as cleaning planes and running an on-site cafe, in order to earn museum dollars that can then be used to purchase flight time. Children can start training as young as eight years old. “At an earlier age, they just catch onto it real quickly,” said Robin.

But the organization is far more than a flight school. By filling a void of after-school activities (there’s a computer lab with flight simulators) and offering positive role models (the Tuskegee Airmen serve as mentors), it helps keep youth off the streets and out of trouble. To remain in the program, participants must maintain good grades.

As a child, Jonathan lived near Los Angeles International Airport and enjoyed watching the air traffic, an interest that grew when his mother bought him a flight-simulator program. After seeing a television feature about two young boys, Jimmy Haywood and Kenny Roy, who trained at Tomorrow’s Aeronautical Museum and became two of the youngest pilots to solo, Jonathan was inspired to join the program. After more than two years of community service and maintaining B grades, he earned his dream trip.

I joined Robin and Jonathan on their quest in Canada. Upon arrival, Jonathan passed two written tests, scoring in the 90s on both. “It can get confusing because the emergency procedures between a fixed-wing and helicopter are totally different,” said Robin. “To pass both exams on the same day is something else!”

Not to mention that Jonathan, who had just used his passport for the first time, had a few culture-shock distractions. “I can’t find a Taco Bell anywhere,” he lamented. “And, where are the cops? I’ve only seen two in Canada.” He giggled at Canadian accents with each use of “eh?!” and the novelty of replacing “point” with “decimal” when stating frequencies.

The young dreamer soloed in the fixed-wing aircraft first. At Pacific Flying Club (www.pacificflying.com) at Boundary Bay Airport in Delta (just outside of Vancouver), British Columbia, he flew a Cessna 152 alone. While Jonathan was in the air, Robin was a little bit tense on the ground: “I feel like a nervous hen! That kid worked his butt off, and here he is setting the world’s imagination on fire.”

Although Jonathan was supposed to do three patterns, he did four—a victory lap, Robin decided. Did he lose track while having too much fun? At the time, Jonathan couldn’t explain it. But looking back, he is thankful for the miscount: “After the trip, it was two months before I flew in a 152 again, so I’m glad I got the extra flying time in.”

Upon landing, the solo star was greeted by newscasters. How did it feel up there all alone? “I looked to the right and I didn’t see anyone and I was, like, cool!” smiled Jonathan. “No one was there to tell me how to land, so I did it my own way.”

The next stop of the day was Heli College at Langley Municipal Airport (www.heli-college.com), where only 2.5 hours after his Cessna 152 solo, Jonathan soloed in a Robinson 22. To fly alone, oil cases were loaded for additional weight. “You have to weigh 130 pounds to solo,” he explained. “I only weigh 90 or something.”

On the ground, the crowd of flight instructors and media fell silent in awe and nervousness as Jonathan hovered and flew a traffic pattern. “It was phenomenal. This kid was the sole manipulator of the controls,” said Robin. “His destiny was in his hands right then and there. I was looking at it, and I still don’t believe it. To solo both an aircraft and a helicopter is a tough order, but he did it. He’s an inspiration to everybody, not just African-Americans.”

As for Jonathan’s modest take on the event: “Anybody can do it. It just takes a lot of hard work.”

I sat backseat as Jonathan flew a Robinson 44 back to Los Angeles from Canada. He piloted through mountains, around the Space Needle, along the Golden Gate Bridge and low over California’s coast. In Malibu, we hovered in a friend’s yard for an early-morning wake-up surprise. At the time, the young aviator preferred flying the Robinson to the Cessna: “Helicopters are cool. If you see something, you can just stop and look at it. In a plane, you’d have to make circles.” (Today, however, it’s evident that he has caught the speed bug: “Planes are cooler because they’re fast. Even cars pass helicopters.”)

Smooth and steady on the controls, Jonathan flew and navigated like a pro. Because of extensive media coverage, people recognized Jonathan at our fuel and overnight stops. I definitely had a hero-in-the-making as my pilot.

Two days and 1,000 miles later, we touched down at Compton with great fanfare, greeted by Jonathan’s friends and family, media, Compton Mayor Eric Perrodin and former Tuskegee Airmen. The Air Operations division of the Los Angeles County Fire Department arrived in a Black Hawk helicopter, and during a ceremony for Jonathan, presented him with a job application for future employment consideration. “It feels good,” was Jonathan’s typical unassuming brevity when addressing the crowd. “I’m a little tired, though.”

By now, Jonathan has caught up on his rest, is midway through freshman year in high school and is rarin’ to go. This March, he’ll take the written exam for his private-pilot license. The results remain valid for two years, and Jonathan is already planning to take his checkride on his sixteenth birthday, March 1, 2009. What’s after that? “I want to fly commercial,” answers Jonathan without missing a beat. “I’ll fly CRJ’s for a bit and then move on to the bigger planes like the 747.” Not bad for a little kid who dreams big, eh?

From The Editor - Fun, Rediscovery & Diversions

2007-08-11T08:30:00.001-04:00

By Jeff Berlin

There’s a great old photograph by Jacques-Henri Lartigue that captures the charming innocence of aviation’s early days. Lartigue’s photo, from 1910 and titled, “The ZYX 24 Takes Off,” epitomizes the passion and fascination people have had for flight since the dawn of aviation. I imagine if you’re reading this magazine, and my column, you have at least a bit of that fascination and understand at least a bit, or a whole lot, of that passion.

It seems to me that some of us are well on our way to entering another era of rediscovering that innocent purity and joy of flight, but on a much larger scale than back in Lartigue’s day. While in the photo they look like they’re having quite a kick, with the new light-sport aircraft available today and the sport-pilot license, a similar kick is now within reach to a much more diverse group of present and future aviators. In this issue, Tim Kern discusses the ins and outs of the sport-pilot license. A great thing about the sport-pilot rule is that so many aircraft qualify under it’s rules; pilots who like classics can tool around in planes like the CubCrafters Sport Cub, reviewed in this issue by Bill Cox, and pilots with more of a techy bent can fly any number of more modern designs, which we have been reviewing, and will continue to review, in future issues of Plane & Pilot.

And talking about flying for the pure fun of it, a while back, I went flying with a friend in his Aviat Husky. It wasn’t the new A-1B-200 that Budd Davisson flew for his article, but since we had full tanks and didn’t have to be anywhere at any particular time, we did some of that other type of IFR flying, following roads and trying to keep our shadow over the cars passing below. It was some of the most fun I’d had in an airplane in a long time, and it was also a real challenge trying to follow the roads’ twists and turns and keep our shadow from drifting onto the adjacent fields. Airspace and terrain allowed this dillydallying, of course.

Those who may question the wisdom of my escapades in the Husky should note that this issue also includes information about the importance of decision-making on the go. So much is written about the pre-takeoff go/no-go decision that it seems the equally important decision of whether to abort while in flight is often overlooked. After spending two weeks the past couple of summers flying a cowboy friend of mine to professional rodeos all over the American West, the dynamics of the in-flight decision of whether or not to continue became particularly interesting to me as we had a hectic schedule to keep (45 hours’ flight time in one week) and we flew some rather long cross-countries in the SR22 that I usually fly. As such, I asked Bill Cox to tap into his experience to discuss this important and timely topic, because with the coming summer flying season, the atmosphere will be more lively, the weather more unstable in the afternoon heat and the need to divert for pop-up storms will be that much more prevalent. I’ve written a fun little story about those trips to the rodeo, which appears in Plane & Pilot’s sister publication, Pilot Journal. Please pick it up and let us know what you think. You can reach me at jtberlin@wernerpublishing.com.

CubCrafters CC11-100 Sport Cub

2007-08-10T19:45:00.001-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Base price: $89,500

Engine make/model: Continental O-200

TBO (hrs.): 1800

Horsepower@altitude: 100@SL

Fuel type: 100/100LL

Propeller type: FP/two-blade

Landing gear type: Fixed/Conv.

Max ramp weight (lbs): 1320

Gross weight (lbs.): 1320

Landing weight (lbs.): 1320

Empty weight, std. (lbs.): 825

Useful load, std. (lbs.): 495

Useful fuel, std. (gals.): 24

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.): 351

Wingspan: 34 ft. 8 in.

Overall length: 23 ft. 3 in.

Height: 8 ft. 5 in.

Wing area (sq. ft.): 176

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.): 7.5

Power loading (lbs./hp): 13.2

Seating capacity: 2

Cabin doors: 1

Cabin width (in.): 30

Cabin height (in.): 50

PERFORMANCE

Cruise speed, 75% (kts.): 92

Fuel consumption, 75% (gph): 4.5

Best rate of climb, SL (gph.): 800

Stall speed, dirty (kts.): 31

Service ceiling (ft.): 14,000

Takeoff ground run (ft.): 250

Takeoff over 50-ft. obstacle (ft.): 950

Landing ground run (ft.): 200

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.): 1000

The Huskier Husky

2007-08-09T08:09:00.001-04:00

An old friend with a bigger engine

Text & Photography By Budd Davisson

The first flight in a new airplane is exciting, even when it’s an old friend with a bigger engine. I had flown Huskies many times, but never the new 200 hp Aviat Husky A-1B-200, and as I started to throttle up, I was watching the edge of the runway for any indication that the airplane was trying to turn; it wasn’t. Also, I had a plan: I was going to do a standard Husky three-point, short-field takeoff rather than lifting the tail in the normal manner. What’s the fun in flying an airplane with a big motor if you’re not going to go for the gusto?

Short-field takeoff technique in any Husky is pretty rudimentary: a) suck the stick to your navel and hold it there, b) feed in the power, c) try to keep from yelling “yahoo” when the main gear comes off first and d) release back pressure to the edge of the bungee-induced stick pressure. That’s it! Pretty hard to screw up. That was the plan anyway.

Flaps full down, stick full back, throttle full forward. As the runway began streaking past, I was hyperattentive to my butt: I was looking for the telltale feeling that, as the wings started to lift, the gear was extending and was getting ready to fly. In 180 hp airplanes, you can feel it coming. In the 200 hp bird, however, there was virtually no warning. We ran down the runway for a few seconds, stick back and tail down, when the airplane simply leaped off the runway, main gear first, with just the slightest warning. When I started to release the back pressure, however, I found I wasn’t being rushed to get the stick forward as in small-engine airplanes.

I’d expected more performance with the bigger motor, but I hadn’t expected the short-field takeoff to be even easier than it already was. Incidentally, we were almost at gross weight, wind was probably at three knots, and it was 85 degrees, yet I didn’t see the second runway light as we left the ground, so we were off in 250 feet.

The addition of the 200 hp IO-360-A1D6 is yet another step in the development of what started in 1983 as the A-1 Husky. By the time Aviat got to the 1B-200 version, they’d made some substantial changes, most of which were aimed at not only improved short-field capabilities, but also better handling and more utility; not that there was anything wrong with the way the aircraft handled before.

Included in the “B” designation are a basic 2,000-pound gross weight and a wing that has been continually improved and tinkered with. The slotted, Fowler flaps with their external, head-banging pivot points were made 13 inches longer on each wing, so we’re talking about a whopping two feet more of flap. The ailerons were shortened, but their chord is now four inches deeper, resulting in an aileron of the same area, or bigger.

The ailerons use Curtis Pitts’ “Super Stinker Technology,” which he introduced on his Model 11 Super Stinker in the mid-’90s. This makes the ailerons much lighter and more effective without having to hang spades on them.

The “B’s” also feature additional baggage area. The right-side door to the normal baggage compartment is now accompanied by a left-side door high behind the wing, which opens into a nice little compartment in the fuselage’s upper portion. The CG is set so you can put 180 pounds in each of the seats, 50 pounds in the baggage compartment and 30 pounds in the aft baggage area.

When they hung the 200 hp IO-360 on the airplane they made additional changes up front. For one thing, the engine installation is a solid 38 pounds heavier. A good chunk of this is because the 200 hp IO-360 is an angle valve engine, as opposed to the parallel valve arrangement of the 180 hp O-360. These jugs offer increased heat dissipation because of their better finning but are, consequently, heavier. Another few pounds comes from the extra oil cooler, so now there are two coolers, one in each of the rear baffles.

As part of its cooling program, the Aviat factory fitted the airplane with cowl flaps, which our test pilot and host, Mark Heiner, said are necessary to get the heat down, but are good for five mph in cruise when closed.

Pitts pilots with sharp eyes will recognize the aluminum, compound curved cowl doors as fugitives from the single-seat S1T Pitts, which used the same engine. The cylinder assemblies make the IO-360 five-eighths of an inch wider than the 180 Lycoming, so the cowling had to be bumped out for clearance.

The airplane we flew was actually the original 1985 prototype that the factory uses as their test mule. Some of the more obvious test items on it, when we flew, were the unpainted, carbon-fiber nosebowl, wingtips and floorboards, which collectively knock 18 pounds off the airplane’s empty weight.

Unfortunately, nothing in aviation is free, including performance that’s the result of increased horsepower. In the case of the A-1B-200, the empty weight has gone up a total of 70 pounds over its 180 hp brethren, so the useful load has drifted down to 680 pounds, even though it’s licensed with the lighter, composite MT-Propeller. If you use the FAA-mandated 170 pounds for each passenger, that leaves just enough room for the 52 gallons of gas and 30 pounds of gear. However, if you’re talking about “real” people (and both Mark and I are very “real”), chances are pretty good that in some situations you won’t be able to fill both tanks. Aviat, however, has a solution for that (see the sidebar).

On that first takeoff, as the airplane clawed into the air, I begrudgingly let the nose down slightly, to hold the 73 mph best climb-rate speed, which still put us at a ridiculous climb angle. At gross weight, this gives a climb of 1,700 feet per minute, which calls for another “yeehah!” In most real-life situations, once you’re over 50 feet, few people are going to feel comfortable at a nose attitude that high because they’re stone blind. At a more reasonable angle, we were seeing around 1,300 fpm, which is still pretty respectable.

Incidentally, during the taxi and takeoff, you can just about see over the nose (taller pilots can probably see the centerline). This makes no difference, however, because the view on the ground around the nose is excellent. Also, the ground handling isn’t even worth discussing—it’s so easy, and on takeoff, it launches so quickly, you’d have to work to get into trouble. The only thing of note in that area is that the instant the gear begins to leave the ground, you need to get some right foot into it immediately to counteract P-factor or you’re going to be sliding left.

In cruise, the visibility is, as you’d expect, hard to improve on—this is the ultimate sight-seeing airplane. It is, however, also a fairly useful cross-country bird. Aviat quotes 138 mph at 55% power, which is a change from most factory spec charts that quote unrealistic 75% cruise speeds. When asked about the 55%, Mark said it was because using any more power was a waste of gasoline. To increase the cruise speed exactly one mph over 138 requires an entire gallon per hour extra, so 55% is the most efficient setting. The airfoil is the old, flat-bottom Clark “Y,” and when it hits its drag rise, there’s no use trying to push it faster.

In the air, the ailerons, which are designed to be effective at slow speeds, make themselves known with a little more adverse yaw than most pilots are accustomed to. That’s not a negative and will only be noticed by feet-on-the-floor Cessna or Mooney pilots. Those who fly Cubs, Champs and their ilk won’t even notice the adverse yaw.

Pull or push it 10% off trim speed in cruise, then let go, and it will start back to neutral and be dead stable after two fairly weak cycles. This is better than many supposedly more stable birds. Pull the nose left and right with rudder and let go, and it will slowly regain straight-ahead flight.

Stalls, as you’d expect with an airplane like this, don’t amount to much. Even with full flaps, you only get a gentle nod, and if you hold the stick dead against the stop and leave it there, the nose just hunts up and down a little. You do have to baby (or avoid) the ailerons in that situation because, if you ask too much of them, you can feel them trying to stall. This, again, is nothing out of the ordinary. All stalls are in the very low 50s to mid-40s, and recover as soon as back pressure is released.

As we turned final for our first landing, I again found one of the items on the Husky that has always bothered me, the bungee trim—and I’m certain I’m not alone. Rather than the trim running an actual trim tab, the wheel simply biases pressure on a set of bungees that push or pull on the elevator-actuating tube. No one at Aviat likes the system any better than the customers do, but, when certifying the Husky, the FAA demanded a dual-trim system and this is what they came up with.

The net result of the trim design is that you’re always fighting the bungees. If you trim it up on downwind and chop the power for landing, the trim is “about” right for the 60 mph you want over the fence, but only “about” right, and when landing the airplane the first few times, that causes a minor irritation.

You want 60 mph over the fence and not two mph more than that or the airplane will float like crazy. I don’t fly Huskies often enough to master the trim requirements right into the flare so I’m always a few mph too fast and, therefore, have enough float that I can’t hit the point I want. The very last part of final and flare is best done with a hand down by your left thigh constantly cranking the trim back, but if you’re fast to begin with, it isn’t easy. Indeed, it was painfully obvious that I needed more practice.

Ground control after touchdown is, again, hardly worth discussing. It’s moving so slowly that, as long as you don’t have dead feet, you’d have to switch your brain to the “off” position to have problems. If there’s a big gust spread, the gusts make the airplane want to balloon, but that’s just part of flying a lightly wing-loaded airplane. Super short rollouts are also part of flying a light airplane. The POH lists a 398-foot ground roll at gross, and we can verify that.

I truly love the Husky, but I’d give anything to see how much easier the airplane would be to fly on final if it had about 15 degrees more flap (it has 30 degrees), so that they could generate more drag, and if it had a different trim system (or an electric top-hat trim switch on the stick).

A point worth mentioning is that the Husky is probably one of the better-detailed airplanes being built today, but don’t let all that finesse fool you. This is a working bird. Put some 8.50 x 6’s on it and bring it home with mud streaks on the bottom of the wings. That’s what it’s made for.

To learn more about the Aviat Husky A-1B-200, visit Aviat Aircraft’s Website, www.aviataircraft.com, or call (307) 885-3151.

When To Abort

2007-08-08T05:03:00.001-04:00

Continuing a flight with a known problem may be possible, but is it wise?

By Bill Cox

I was just over three hours out of Santa Barbara on my way to Honolulu in a Piper Chieftain when the HF radio suddenly went quiet. “Hmm, not good,” I thought, “but not a world-shaking emergency.” The HF was my old reliable Kenwood TS-50S ham rig, temporarily “mounted” on the right front seat. For 12 years, it had served me well on the oceans with never a hiccup. Now, it was dead.

Sadly, I have to admit my first thought was whether I could simply bluff my way across the Pacific using position relays through the airliners overhead and maybe find service in Hawaii. I was making a fixed-price contract delivery to Australia, and turning around would cost me at least 250 gallons of fuel, plus probably two extra nights in a hotel. That meant an extra $1,000 straight out of my pocket.

The regs were clear, or were they? An HF radio is required for the Pacific crossing from the West Coast to Honolulu, and of course, it’s also mandatory for all the international stops beyond. (That’s why airliners carry two of them.) Mine had been working for the first position report, and I had filed IFR, so I could probably argue that I was entitled to continue. The rule for loss of communication in IFR is to do exactly what they’re expecting you to, continue to your destination, shoot the approach and land. Of course, conditions were VFR, and when I got to Hawaii, I could communicate normally on VHF. If I had a problem mid-ocean, however, I’d have no way to call for help other than on 121.5 and hope an airliner heard me.

I thought about it for a few minutes, and reluctantly, decided the smartest course of action was to turn around. The Chieftain was running perfectly, and I probably could have continued, but in the final analysis, my tender pink body was worth a lot more than $1,000, at least to me. I switched to the guard frequency (121.5) on VHF, asked for an airliner’s help and when United came back, I asked them to advise San Francisco Oceanic that I was aborting the flight and returning to Santa Barbara.

In 200 trips across the Atlantic and Pacific, I’ve been faced with similar decisions two dozen or more times, and no, I haven’t consistently aborted. Apparently, the fact that I’m still here suggests I must have made the right decisions at least some of the time. Abort when you don’t need to, and the consequences are usually nothing worse than inconvenience and economic loss. Fail to abort when you should, however, and the result could be far worse.

Economics should never dictate whether to continue a flight, but the simple fact is that money often rules. Many readers may recall the case of a British Airways 747 that lost an engine on takeoff from LAX in February 2005. The tower controller witnessed the failure right at rotation and advised the crew that there were “flames shooting 20 feet out of the number two engine.”

The aircraft circled LAX for a few minutes while the crew consulted with the home office. Rather than dump fuel and be forced to compensate passengers nearly $200,000 for the delay, the captain elected to continue some 5,000 nm to England on three engines.

What he apparently didn’t know was that fuel for the number two engine could not be transferred when the level dropped below 6,000 pounds. That might not have been so bad except that, in keeping with Murphy’s Second Law of Accumulated Failure, the flight was assigned a relatively inefficient altitude for the crossing, suffered unfavorable winds, and eventually, the captain was forced to divert to Manchester because of low fuel. I’m not an airline pilot, but that certainly sounds like economics overruling safety. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

There are probably dozens of other factors that could dictate an abort, but perhaps the top consideration for most general aviation pilots is weather. How do you decide to continue or abort if the atmospherics are worse than advertised? Teaching weather judgment is a Herculean task under any circumstances, certainly not the province of a single magazine article, but there are factors that can ease the decision of when to divert or abort.

If you’re flying VFR, the weather decision is fairly easy, or at least, it should be. You have no excuse for even considering pushing weather. Every year, CFIT (controlled flight into terrain) or UFIT (the uncontrolled equivalent), two of our oldest enemies, are consistently among the top probable causes of fatal accidents. If you can’t see where you’re going, you divert, at least temporarily—period. I know, I know. In the real world, it’s rarely that simple, but there’s no way to adequately warn a pilot untrained for instrument conditions about the dangers of continuing into adverse conditions except to say don’t.

Bruce Landsberg, director of the AOPA Air Safety Foundation, says there’s a relatively easy cure for the problem, but pilots seem reluctant to practice it. “Too often, pilots who stumble into accidental IFR often do exactly the wrong thing, descend straight ahead in hopes of popping out the bottom,” says Landsberg. “The smarter course is nearly always to initiate a climb, preferably in conjunction with a 180-degree turn, to return to known VFR conditions, assuming they’re still there.”

Instrument-rated aviators have a tougher decision. The vast majority of instrument pilots tend to err on the side of safety, but some insist on pushing the odds, knowingly continuing into weather they may not be qualified to handle.

The question is always how to recognize when you may be pushing too hard. In 25 years of ferry flying, I’ve gone to school on those folks who do it better than I ever will (which is practically everyone). Though many of our legs are across oceans where there are essentially no alternates—you either continue to your destination or return to your departure point—one good friend was in the habit of always asking the briefer, “Where is it good?” If the weather was questionable on any portion of a leg, he wanted to know in advance which direction to divert.

Another most excellent aviator was in the habit of checking destination weather once every hour during a flight to make certain he didn’t arrive to an unexpectedly 0-0 airport, out of fuel and ideas at the same time. That very thing happened to me once, on a flight from Reykjavik, Iceland, to Narsarsuaq, Greenland, six years ago. Near-ground-level fog formed and rolled in from the fjord, catching everyone by surprise. I wound up having to sneak in up the fjord the best way I could, far below published IFR minimums. (No, there were no repercussions. My choices were either land or die. My alternate—Godthab—had also gone down, and I had no choice if I didn’t want to park it on the ice cap.)

Other factors that may influence the abort decision include mechanical problems, avionics concerns, passenger considerations and the condition of the pilot. Mechanicals can be a tougher call than you might imagine. Traditional wisdom has it that if anything stops working, you abort. Simple rule, huh?

Not necessarily. Any problem that affects engine power is obviously justification to abort, but what if a fuel gauge stops indicating? Should you abort? Probably not. If the needle merely drops straight to the bottom of the dial, that’s usually indicative of a gauge problem. If the needle moves smoothly but quickly down the dial, that could be a sign of a fuel leak and reasonable cause to abort. Another clue might be if the engine quits.

How about if an alternator doesn’t function or an electric fuel pump won’t in a twin? If you think that’s not critical (“Gee, isn’t that why you have two of them?”), imagine what could happen if you lost the other one. You get the idea.

Similarly, how many radios do you have to lose before you “should” abort? The old salts of aviation sometimes suggest “all of them” and decry pilots who rely too heavily on radar and GPS. Again, the question of VFR or IFR rules. Radios are less critical when the atmospherics are clement, you can see the ground and follow your position on a topographic chart. (Remember those?)

Even in VFR, loss of a transponder can also ruin your day and cause you to divert. A few years back, the lights went out on the one and only transponder in a borrowed Cessna 340 while I was en route to the Reno Air Races. Despite pleading that my rental car was at Reno-Cannon and there was no way I’d find another one somewhere else, the Reno approach controller told me in no uncertain terms to go somewhere else. I diverted to Carson City and spent $110 for the cab ride to Reno. But after all, this is aviation.

Pilot and passenger mental and physical condition are two more real concerns that might dictate an abort. The pilot’s condition is, obviously, most critical, but passengers need love, too. If anyone is having trouble with turbulence, complaining about the noise and vibration level, or forgot to use the bathroom, you may be better served to accommodate their wishes than force them to endure. Remember, even if it’s a rental, you’ll probably have to clean it up.

One of my earliest instructors, now long since elevated to the great hangar in the sky after 40 years of instructing, used to always preach, “If you have a choice to make in aviation, better to accept the consequences of the known than choose the unknown and take your chances.”

From The Editor: Armchair Flying

2007-08-07T09:19:00.000-04:00

Apparently, it was always this good

By Jeff Berlin

When I was turning 10, my folks took my brother and me to Disney World. It was around my birthday because I remember jumping on the bed in our room in the then-futuristic Contemporary Hotel, excited that I was finally turning double digits. Such innocence, I think now, as I just turned over another new decade not long ago. One of my most enduring memories from that trip is a flying attraction where I stood at a railing, leaned a bit forward and felt wind on my face as I watched images of flight from a bird’s perspective.

September of ’06 saw the theatrical release of Flyboys, a terrific movie about the Lafayette Escadrille, a group of American pilots who flew for France during World War I. As I sat in a screening of that film in New York, during the exhilarating flying scenes that put me in the cockpit with the Escadrille’s brave pilots, I could have sworn that I again felt that wind on my face. Flyboys was a project of passion for Oscar-winning director and producer Tony Bill, who’s written this month’s “Guest Speaker” column.

One of my favorite things about aviation is all the amazing books available about its history. And I’m not talking about the glossy picture books on shelves at your local Barnes & Noble or Borders. I’m talking about books with yellowing pages, brittle leather bindings and blocks of type that sometimes fall askew on the page. I’m talking about original, first-edition copies of the classics.

Whenever I’m back in New York City, I always make sure to stroll the aisles of the famous (in NYC) Strand Books on Broadway and 12th Street. Strand likes to call itself the “Home to 18 Miles of Books,” and it’s my favorite place to get lost for a bit, turning pages while being transported so much farther than 18 miles, which would otherwise put me, perhaps, somewhere on the other side of Secaucus, N.J., which is decidedly less glamorous and dreamy than, say, flying a Nieuport in 1917 or blazing trails in Greenland for Pan American Airways with Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

Every so often, a real cloth- or leather-bound gem will end up shoehorned onto the shelves at Strand, like a first-edition Spirit of St. Louis by Lindbergh, a first-edition Stick and Rudder by Langeweische or even a first-edition Fate is the Hunter by Ernie Gann. I now have all of these, among many others, on my shelves at home, and I’m proud of my little collection of first editions, but it’s nothing compared to the collection that Tony Bill recently sold to a library. Tony’s was one of the most significant and complete libraries of early aviation literature. So when Tony recommends a book to me, I check it out. And this month, right here on these pages, Tony gives us all some recommendations of books you probably haven’t heard of. I can guarantee that they’ll be perfect to satisfy your flying bug when the weather outside isn’t cooperating. It works for me.

2007 Piper 6X

2007-08-06T05:55:00.001-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Base price: $454, 500

Engine make/model: Lycoming
IO-540-K1G5

TBO (hrs.): 2000

Horsepower@altitude: 300@SL

Horsepower on takeoff: 300

Fuel type: 100/100LL

Propeller type: CD/3-blade

Landing gear type: Tri./Fixed

Max ramp weight (lbs.): 3615

Gross weight (lbs.): 3600

Landing weight (lbs.): 3600

Empty weight, std. (lbs.): 2222

Useful load (lbs.): 1344

Useful fuel (gals.): 102

Payload (lbs.): 732

Oil capacity (qts.): 12

Wingspan: 36 ft. 2 in.

Overall length: 27 ft. 11 in.

Height: 9 ft. 6 in.

Wing area (sq. ft.): 178

Power loading (lbs./hp): 12

Seating capacity: 6

Cabin doors: 2/3

Cabin width (in.): 48.3

Cabin height (in.): 42

PERFORMANCE

CRUISE SPEED, 75% power (kts.):

Cruise speed, 75% power (kts.): 148

Fuel consumption, 75% power (gph): 16.5

Max range, 55% power (nm): 804

Vso (kts.): 59

Best rate of climb, SL (fpm): 1050*

Service ceiling (ft.): 17,200

Takeoff ground roll (ft.): 1284

Takeoff over 50-ft.

obstacle (ft.): 2028

Landing distance (ft.): 911

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.): 1822

*Estimated

de Havilland Beaver

2007-08-05T17:24:00.001-04:00

Sixty years in the sky de Havilland Beaver

By Michael Vivion
Photos By Jessica Ambats

You first notice the sound as a low rumble in the distance. It grows louder, and the throaty rumble increases to a roar as the big floatplane swings into the wind for landing. On this remote northern lake where you’ve been stranded by weather for days, this is the sound of salvation. A hardworking Pratt and Whitney radial engine, firmly attached to arguably the best bush plane ever built, is on its way to pick up and deliver you to the land of hot showers and warm beds. Indeed, as I was told by a well-known pilot in Kodiak, Alaska, when I began flying a Beaver, “You won’t find a better airplane for flying in marginal weather in the bush.”

That airplane—the de Havilland Beaver, celebrated a birthday in August—60 years from its first flight. Officially known as the de Havilland Canada DHC-2 Mk.I Beaver, it’s listed as one of the 10 greatest Canadian inventions. More significantly, almost all backcountry pilots who’ve flown the aircraft have a soft spot for the reliable workhorse.

What makes the Beaver such a wonderful working airplane? A great team of designers paid careful attention to the original design objective, as well as to the responses of a survey of working pilots in the north, and produced what has become an icon. The team of Phil Garratt, Jaki Jakimiuk, Fred Buller and Dick Hiscocks created not just a bush airplane, but also a legend.

The goal of these designers was to develop a purpose-built bush airplane capable of carrying heavy loads on wheels, skis and floats, and with performance to meet the demands of the bush operators of the day. The final design of the airplane was dictated by the decision to utilize the P&W R-985 Wasp Junior radial engine as its powerplant instead of a 330 hp Gypsy engine. The R-985 was first built in 1929, and there are still hundreds of these engines in service today. Were it not for the durability of the Beaver, the R-985 would probably now be uncommon in the ranks of working engines, but the two have proven to be a match made in Downsview, Ontario, Canada, birthplace of the Beaver.

It was the switch from the inline engine to the radial that gave the Beaver its pug nose. To provide loading flexibility, the radial had to be mounted virtually in the cockpit. In fact, the Beaver’s six-gallon engine oil tank is the center console between the pilot and copilot’s feet.

The oil filler cap is to the right of the center pedestal, adjacent to the copilot’s left knee. Theoretically, one can add oil in flight. Following an in-flight incident in Kodiak, I’ve always briefed my passengers not to remove the big yellow cap. While flying a group of VIPs on a tour of the island, the regional director of my agency was in the right front seat. For reasons known only to him, he reached over and opened the oil filler cap in flight. A large glop of nasty looking black 50-weight oil burped out of the filler onto his left pant leg, at which point he calmly replaced the filler cap and returned to surveying the countryside as if nothing had happened. Maybe that engine was carrying a bit of pressure in the tank, but I saw no point in opening the cap in flight again.

From the outset, the Beaver was designed to operate in all seasons, and much of the original flight-testing was done on floats. Many Beavers operating today are float-equipped, a testament to the superb performance of the airplane on floats.

The first production Beaver was delivered in early 1948. By the end of production, 1,631 Mk.I Beavers, one Mk.II prototype with an Alvis Leonides 500 hp engine and 60 Mk.III Turbo Beavers had been built. The U.S. military bought 968 Mk.I Beavers as U-20 utility aircraft. For years, Kenmore Air Harbor in Seattle, Wash., has done a lively business converting military Beavers to civilian configuration.

The prototype Beaver illustrates the durability of the type. The first Beaver, CF-FHB, made its first flight in August 1947. After flight-testing was completed, it was refurbished as a demonstrator. In June 1948, the airplane was sold to Central British Columbia Airways, which was in need of working aircraft. FHB then became a working air-taxi airplane. The prototype continued to fly for air-taxi operators until 1980, when it was purchased by a museum and retired. How many manufacturers can claim that a flight-test prototype of one of their aircraft was in continuous, day-to-day commercial service for 32 years?

So, what’s it like to fly a Beaver? It can be a lot of fun and a lot of work. This is a big airplane by general aviation standards, with a 5,100-pound gross weight and 450 hp at full lope. The engine is supercharged, and the airplane can have six fuel tanks. These aren’t terribly complex airplanes, but they’re not that simple either.

Loading a Beaver can be a daunting task—the useful load can be close to 2,000 pounds, even on floats. The shape of the doors on a Beaver initially appears odd. The front doors are narrow, but after flying one, you realize that it’s a functional shape. The aft doors were designed to facilitate the loading of 55-gallon barrels, either upright or on their sides. Each spring in Kodiak, I moved fuel from a vessel anchored in an ocean bay to one of our lake camps. Over the course of a few days, I’d move 70 barrels of avgas and Jet A and twenty 100-pound cylinders of propane from the boat into N765—three barrels at a time—then unload at the lake using a ramp. These are working airplanes designed for hard use.

Three fuel tanks occupy the forward belly of the airplane, which simplifies fueling. There’s no need for the pilot to climb up on the wings to fuel. Many Beavers have wing tip tanks, but with 95 gallons in the belly tanks (35, 35 and 25 gallons), the tips (another 46 gallons) are rarely used. Fuel management requires planning to maintain center of gravity as fuel is burned.

The first procedure new Beaver pilots learn is engine starting. Radial engines require a few more steps than do opposed engines. Hydraulic lock is a possibility in a radial that hasn’t been run for a bit. Oil can pool in the lower combustion chambers, and starting an engine in this case will create havoc.

The morning ritual starts by pulling that big propeller, by hand, through several blades to verify there’s no hydraulic lock. Then give it five strokes of prime, engage the starter, count three to five blades, energize the boost coil and switch on the mags. Five cylinders are primed, so they fire first, then the others join in. This is accompanied by a cloud of smoke as the engine clears itself in preparation for the day’s work. The sound of a radial engine coming to life has been known to bring tears to the eye of hardcore biker types. It’s a sweet sound indeed.

Longevity of radial engines is dependent on a thorough warm up prior to takeoff—every day. In Kodiak, a 10- to 15-minute ground warm up was standard, even in summer. With the airplane tied down, I’d fire up the engine and read the morning paper while the Junior warmed itself for the day’s adventures. There’s six gallons of oil in there and a lot of metal to warm.

The Beaver is slab sided and sensitive to wind on the surface, but an experienced pilot can handle the airplane easily. For takeoff, the throttle pushes manifold pressure to 36.5 inches at 2,300 rpm. An idling R-985 rumbles a pleasant note, but at takeoff power, it emits a deafening roar. Attention to manifold pressure is important—it’s easy to overboost. Our maintenance chief told me that if I saw trees in the top half of the windshield during a takeoff, I should shove the throttle to the stop. If I missed the trees, call him and we’d talk. On at least one such occasion, I cleared the trees with the MP gauge reading well over 40 inches, and I was thankful for a strong engine.

On takeoff, the Beaver struts its stuff. This is what the airplane was bred for: STOL operations. Even heavy, the airplane outperforms most four- to six-seat airplanes. With modifications, the Mk.I Beaver can seat seven, the Mk.III up to 11. Ask any experienced pilot who’s flown the Beaver and other bush airplanes which one he or she would choose to depart a small lake with a load, and the answer will be predictable.

Takeoff requires flaps. The designers refused to follow popular recommendations and dropped the ailerons when flaps deploy. These “flaperons” significantly improve the airplane’s STOL capability. For takeoff, I lowered flaps to match aileron deflection with the yoke cranked over fully in one direction.

Once airborne, the Beaver’s control harmony is actually quite nice and light. Adverse yaw is prominent, so proper application of rudder is required. With a 48-foot wingspan, a “leisurely” roll rate and lots of adverse yaw are inevitable.

The heavily loaded Mk.I Beaver doesn’t exhibit spectacular climb capability, but with patience and bumps of the throttle to maintain power during climb, it’ll get you there. The airplane climbs best with partial flaps. Engine temperatures may limit climb performance on hot days.

Cruise speed of a loaded float-equipped Beaver is around 110 knots. When I first flew the airplane, it seemed difficult to find a proper cruise pitch attitude, because of the rounded cowling. I learned to level the bottom of the left wing with the horizon, and I flew with a bit of flaps deployed when heavy. Flaps are hydraulically activated, permitting an infinite range of deflection. Fuel burn in cruise ranges from 22 to 28 gph.

On approach, the Beaver exhibits a characteristic typical of DHC aircraft: A very nose low pitch attitude is required to maintain airspeed. These airplanes illustrate the concept of flight “behind the power curve” graphically. These are draggy airplanes, and raising the nose increases drag. As a Beaver slows, you must keep the nose down. Get low on final, raise the nose and the airplane will sink like a stone. The airplane won’t climb, even with a lot of power until you push the nose down. Push and the airplane will climb nicely, assuming it’s not too far into the pit before the pilot awakens. My mentor flew an Otter into the ground with a big load in this configuration, so my initial checkout in the Beaver included extensive exposure to this behavior. Everyone’s should.

Landings in a Beaver are nonevents. The airplane flares and settles on quite nicely: all in all, a gentle lady. Got some rough water to work? That’s the Beaver’s job. It’s big, tough and as honest an airplane as was ever built, assuming the pilot approaches properly. The airplane has the capability of extreme flap deployment—58 degrees, with a note in the pilot’s handbook recommending that “the full flap setting should be used only for emergency crash landings.” Interesting concept.

The Beaver has been “improved” by numerous modifiers. De Havilland itself adapted the Mk.1 to turbine power to create the Mk.III Turbo Beaver, with a P&W PT6 engine. Sixty were built in the late ’60s. The difference in engine weights required a 28-inch extension to the fuselage aft of the pilot’s seat to keep the Mk.III in CG. A larger rudder and vertical fin manage the additional horsepower from the turbine engine.

Modifications exist for a gross weight of 5,600 pounds for Mk.I Beavers, and 6,000 pounds for Mk.III Beavers. Numerous seating arrangements, larger cargo doors, larger windows and smaller batteries have all been approved. The induction has been moved to the top cowl to reduce water ingestion, the wing struts have been strengthened—the list is extensive. Viking Air Ltd. converts Mk.I Beavers to Mk.III configuration, turning your rumbler into a whiner, so to speak. Wipaire in Minnesota has developed its own turbine conversion for the Beaver, a quite different machine than the Mk.III Beaver, but with many attractive features of its own.

Whether modified or stock, the Beaver is (and has been for 60 years) the recognized workhorse of the North Country. A harder working, more productive bush airplane hasn’t been built, and Beavers are today being refurbished and put back to work at a price that I’m sure the designers couldn’t have imagined in 1947.

When test pilot Russ Bannock made that first flight in Beaver CF-FHB on August 16, 1947, he knew DHC had a winner, but I doubt that he ever dreamed of the impact on bush aviation and the tenacity that the Beaver would display.

Products To Watch

2007-08-04T10:26:00.001-04:00

Fly Faster, Smarter, Better And Safer

By Tim Kern

I love the aviation industry; it’s always innovating and producing newer and better things to help us fly faster/smarter/better/safer, etc. When Plane & Pilot asked me to subjectively investigate “what’s cool and what’s new,” I jumped at the prospect. So, here’s our take on what’s new, what’s cool and what’s on the horizon.

1 Pilot My-Cast by Garmin Just imagine yourself all alone at a small airport where the FBO is closed. Pick up your cell phone, enter the information about where you want to go, and Pilot My-Cast will show the Wx on that route—NEXRAD, METARs and so on—and you’ll be up to date.

The newest edition, Pilot My-Cast by Garmin, premiered at Oshkosh, and it’s more than a weather service: now, you can also file your flight plan, get a pilot’s map and check winds aloft. It’s easy to use as well. The filed info automatically goes to DUATs; and the next time you file, you’ll have to change only the info that changes for the flight.
Pilot My-Cast is supported by phones produced by Alltel, Cingular, Sprint and Verizon, among others. As with anything technical, check first for compatibility. (Understand that this is for checking your weather on the ground only. Don’t use a cell phone in the air!) Learn more at https://secure.my-cast.com/pilot.jsp.

2 L-3 Communications Avionics Systems (IRIS) L-3 Communications Avionics Systems introduced its IRIS enhanced vision system (EVS) last October; in late May, it unveiled its PMA (parts manufacturer approval) and its latest STC, for the King Air C90. Other STCs are in the works, and EVS is likely to become even more common in GA aircraft. It doesn’t help you see through heavy rain or snowstorms, but you’ll be able to see the ground when you’re flying into the sun, or when it’s hazy or at night—in those tense moments when the airport’s lights don’t work, or when the engine for some reason just…goes…silent. Even when everything’s working, suppose there are deer grazing near the runway, or somebody you’re not expecting is hanging around your spooky parking space.

IRIS was developed from reliable components. President Adrienne Stevens explained, “In keeping with our heritage, L-3 Avionics Systems has taken enhanced vision system technology developed from adjacent markets and made it affordable for general aviation.” We ought to be glad they did. Learn more at www.L-3Avionics.com/IRIS.

3 Avidyne Retrofit Products At Sun ’n Fun, Avidyne introduced its Envision Integrated Flight Deck as a retrofit upgrade for the Cirrus SR20 and SR22. All the “Cirri” delivered prior to the arrival of the Avidyne Entegra, some 700 airplanes, are eligible. The souped-up flight deck isn’t limited to the Cirrus airplanes, though; it also has been STC’d for the Cessna 300- and 400-series twins. And now, coverage is expanded, all the way to experimentals.

A large part of the credit goes to Southern Star Avionics LLC, in Mobile, Ala., for developing the package and retrofit and doing the integration and certification work. The Envision will allow owners of older aircraft and homebuilders to have an “Entegra experience,” with full-time, instantaneous wind-vector display and trend indicators that provide six-second trend data for airspeed, altitude and heading. Parts cost for the 10.4-inch MFD and PFD and the system will run about $45,000; the price of the STC hasn’t been announced. Learn more at www.avidyne.com.

4 VistaNav Portable Synthetic Vision system Think of Mercury Computer Systems’ new portable navigation system, the VistaNav CIS-2000 Class II EFB with Synthetic Vision (SV), as a computer simulator in reverse: You watch the rugged 8.4-inch glass-screen display and control the actual airplane. (Of course, the VistaNav system isn’t IFR certified and can’t be used for IFR navigation.)

With SV, you clearly “see” the runway on your display, even when you’re in the soup. On-screen, you see what’s outside in “clear daylight” and at frame rates above 30 fps—you just fly the real airplane through the HITS (Highway in the Sky) boxes to safety. The sight picture is a realistic 3-D approach—in some ways, that’s better than real VFR!

VistaNav CIS-2000 is portable and includes 2-D maps and approach plates, XM weather and 2-D/3-D traffic displays. The system is a functional backup for panel-mounted IFR instruments, with a 90-minute battery. You can use this system in any airplane, with no hookups. With both Class I and Class II systems to choose from, prices start as low as $2,500.

In conjunction with some work I did for VistaNav, I flew this system with a safety pilot through the pattern. Although he did take over six feet off the ground (at the threshold, on the centerline), I believe I could have landed with it, in what could have been zero visibility, day or night, with the entire panel dead. That’s better than any alternative outcome I could think of. Learn more at www.vistanav.com.

5 RAM Aircraft LP RAM Aircraft LP at Waco Regional Airport in Texas provides engine overhauls, performance upgrades, new propellers and new and PMA-new parts for a lot of our favorites, and has exciting news for Cessna 210, 206 and 207 owners: “better traction!”

The latest RAM STC mates newly developed three-blade Hartzell Scimitar Plus S/E propellers to RAM’s power STCs: an upgrade of the 285 hp C210 H to 310 hp “R” power. (If you already have the “R” model, RAM has a super-overhaul that includes new nickel-carbide coated cylinders and micro-balanced internals for smoother operation and greater reliability.)

A similar propeller STC (mated to different models of the 520) is available to owners of most C206 and C207 models, including turbocharged variants; and the prop is available in either “hot” or “cold” specification, to match the airplane’s original call-out. (On some aircraft not equipped with propeller deice systems from the factory, RAM can supply propellers with deice boots installed, but the owner must install a deice kit and hardware.)

The RAM-overhauled engines, STC upgrade packages, and parts and propellers can all be shipped to aircraft owners worldwide to install themselves; alternatively, customers are invited to Waco for the overhaul. Fly home fast and happy! Learn more at www.ramaircraft.com.

6 Hangar B-17 Smart Avionics Technologies Hangar B-17 provides a range of portable avionics that run on Ultra Mobile PCs, tablets, and Palm and Pocket PC PDAs. (The newest product works on a modern Smartphone, too!) Hangar B-17 asks, “If avionics are getting so advanced, why is it that the pilots have to do all the thinking?” They ensure that we don’t.

The newest iteration uses winds aloft (through WxWorx) to show optimal flight-plan altitudes for time and fuel savings. It helps keep us from busting airspace, with built-in warnings any time we’re vertically getting within 200 feet of airspace altitude restrictions. Additionally, the AGL indicator on the altimeter delivers a ground proximity warning. The EFIS altimeter also bounces your behavior against VFR, IFR and RVSM altitude flight rules and shows you your altitude options. Plus, it displays oxygen requirements—if you need O2, you might not be sharp enough to realize it!

Especially useful: while the screen can display almost anything, it automatically “de-clutters” itself, showing only information that’s relevant to your flight path and altitude. Further, it’s always calculating your airplane’s glide radius, factoring glide ratio, position AGL and terrain along the flight path. If the prop stops, you’ll know where you can go—all public or private strips on your charts are in the database. Learn more at www.hangarb17.com.

7 HotSeat Simulator Chassis I rode this baby at the I/ITSEC (training & simulation) show in December; at Sun ’n Fun in April, the line to the demo was so long that I didn’t even try. President and CEO of HotSeat Chassis, Jay LeBoff, an amateur road racer, wanted more and more racing, but couldn’t get the experience he wanted with existing desktop sims, so he started what he thought would be a simple expansion on the idea: add a seat, pedals and some feedback. Aside from the G-forces, he then had a chance to race in his living room when the track was covered with snow.

Airplanes are similar—and the G’s are all in one direction. He took the original “chair,” with its realistic sounds, vibrations and feedback, and built a “flight system.” It’s now a complete home-entertainment system on several levels; you can opt for multiple screens, and even a six-speaker Dolby 5.1 sound system.

At Oshkosh, the newest system—for helicopters—hit the floor. What’s cool? It’s a viable bridge between entertainment and flight training, just what the industry needs to attract new pilots. You can practice on it, or you can let the aspiring pilots experience flight—for just the price of the electricity. Several of these units have gone to aviation colleges and CFIs. Tell yourself it’s for education and practice; tell the kids it’s entertainment: it works either way! Learn more at www.hotseatinc.com.

8 Xerion Avionix AuRACLE II The AuRACLE II is the most sophisticated engine management system that I’ve found for light GA aircraft. It replaces all the usual independent engine instruments; it’s TSO’d and STC’d for hundreds of aircraft. A single cannon-plug interface is the only firewall penetration (no “wet” lines in the cockpit!); and it’s easy to configure, too, with a USB interface that allows quick custom setup in any application.

AuRACLE II presents, among other things, rpm, manifold pressure, fuel flow, CHTs and EGTs, induction air temp, fuel computations and pressure, OP and OT, turbine inlet temp, volts/amps and user-set programmable warnings, all on one face; and the AuRACLE records 150 nonerasable hours of data.

AuRACLE’s nonerasable data logging can be thought of as “poor man’s trend monitoring.” The big boys use TM to save money, plan maintenance, refine piloting techniques and spot trouble before it becomes a problem. That’s great for maintenance departments and those who examine warranty claims, to say nothing of, ah… accident investigators.

An integrated cost-effective recording instrument system was bound to reach our end of GA, sooner or later. Here it is—sooner! Learn more at www.xerionavionix.com.

9 Micco Aircraft SP26 Micco (Seminole for “leader”) has had a tough recent history, but the greatness of the all-metal airplane has never been in question: an aerobatic 260 hp retractable taildragger with side-by-side seating that allows even two short people to see the runway when the tailwheel’s on the ground.

The precise handling and unprecedented visibility of the SP26 make it a fantastic trainer, especially for a school that wants to offer tailwheel training. The SP26 can do it all—it’s predictable and manageable for primary training; it offers super visibility and docile ground handling for a tailwheel; and it’s a full-acro machine and spin trainer (with an unlimited aerobatic airframe life); plus, 96 usable gallons feeding the IO-540 gives you plenty of cross-country range (more than seven hours at 150+ knots)—and its 810-pound useful load means you don’t need to skip lunch! Learn more at www.miccoaircraft.com.

10 Beyerdynamic Headset Beyerdynamic GmbH & Co. KG is better known in recording studios than in cockpits, but the Heilbronn, Germany, company has been quietly introducing tailored products into aviation since late last year. Quietly until now, that is.

The HS 300 sports passive attenuation, and the new HS 600 has digital adaptive noise reduction (DANR), in which an “intelligent” microprocessor produces the counter sound, resulting in a quick adaptation to changing noise levels and improved perception of audio.

Other features include the ability to hook up your cell phone (ground use only, of course) and MP3 player to a dedicated aviation headset. Based on the top-selling 770-series studio headphone, the sets feature aluminum yokes, electret condenser mics and “airplane” plugs. (Helo-plugs coming later). One more unique thing: you can “build your own” online. On the company’s Website, select “manufaktur” to pick your colors and features—you can even order custom lettering. The HS headsets carry a five-year warranty and come in a particularly rugged case. The HS 300 Individual lists at $299, and the price on the HS 600 hasn’t yet been determined here, but preliminary pricing in Europe has it at 849 euros. “Build Your Own” versions have a small premium based on the selection. Learn more at www.beyerdynamic-usa.com.

11 Cirrus G3 The Generation 3 (G3) Cirrus is a pretty face, all right, with its new, mouthwatering, almost pearl-metallic colors, but it’s so much more. Cirrus made it lighter, pulling 50 pounds out of the wing, while making the wing stronger. Cirrus also made it heavier, in a good way: additional fuel capacity yields roughly 1⁄6 more range. While the company was working on the wing, Cirrus increased the dihedral just a little; they say you can feel the increased lateral stability. They also made the gear two inches taller, for longer prop life and greater tail clearance. The recognition lights are now brilliant, low-power and have super-long-life LEDs, and the TKS anti-icing system is also expanded, in both span coverage and fluid capacity: there’s a 50% increase in anti-icing endurance at any setting and a more-convenient filler port on the G3 wing. Inside, they’ve increased cabin airflow by 40%, made the heater hotter and made air-conditioning available on all the SR22s, even the turbos. Learn more at www.cirrusdesign.com/g3.

12 Diamond DA50 SuperStar Diamond unveiled its five-seat DA50 in Friedrichshafen, Germany, in April. Roomy, comfortable and fast, the 350 hp composite bird may someday have a diesel engine, but for now, TCM’s TSIOF-550J is providing all the power the four-blade prop needs. Official numbers aren’t public yet, but we’re told to look for a 25,000-foot ceiling, center control sticks, a three-screen Garmin G1000 suite, a beefy MTOW of 3,560 pounds, and a cruise speed of 200 KTAS at 18,000 feet.

With full-scale production of the DA50 set to begin in January, the top of Diamond’s line (DA42, DA50 and D-JET) all look like solid winners, even as the DA20 and DA40 are earning the mass-market acceptance they’ve long deserved.

Some day, people will also discover the high-speed, no-medical benefits of self-launched, cross-country gliding, and Diamond’s fine (but rare) HK36 will gain some respect. But for now, horsepower lovers, big people and families will go nuts for the DA50 SuperStar. Learn more at www.diamondaircraft.com.

13 P2 TimeTrac It’s inevitable: components get changed, rebuilt and overhauled; it’s a pain keeping track of just how old everything is. TimeTrac, STC’d for more than 750 models, tracks your time, bounces that against your installed equipment list, and automatically creates and analyzes pilot and aircraft logs. So all you need to do is fly.
TimeTrac gives you flight-management features for a fraction of the costs of compiling other databases; it’s the size of a deck of cards, interfaces with most GPS units and for $2,495, you own both hardware and software (for PC or Mac). Best of all, there are no “subscription” costs.

When it’s time for your annual, your inspection authorizer doesn’t have to spend hours going over books—it’s all there. Accountants love it, too. Between annuals, as components get close to their inspection/replacement times, the items change color on your readout screen; you can also call up an action item list.

When you sell, one report shows everything—tires, brakes, engine, prop—and better records mean better resale. With a new airplane, it’s a great way to keep track of everything that’s ever going to happen. Once you’re set up, you’re done! Once you’ve seen it, you’re hooked! Learn more at www.P2inc.com.

14 Vertex Standard 220 The new Vertex Standard 220 replaces the VXA-150, and expands on that unit’s virtues. While the 150 was water-resistant, the 220 is actually submersible. It’s a modern update: bands are stepped at 8.33 kHz (for the future narrow-band channel schema). The 220 has more memory channels, up from 150 to 250; and NOAA Wx radio is preset for monitoring.

Pilots are getting older, and Vertex Standard helps us, too: the new display is bigger; the Omni-Glow display back-lighting won’t mess up your night vision; transmission has a voice-operation mode; and the incoming audio output is cleaner. Learn more at www.vertexstandard.com.

15 Icom IC-A210 Icom’s new panel-mount flip-flop radio is stunning, with its organic LED display and clean styling. The OLEDs can just about overpower the sun (and you can dim them for normal or night use), and the ease of use makes this part of your communications a lot less stressful: for instance, your most-recently used stations can be called up from memory; and if you’re hooked into one of the many popular GPS units, it can tune to the proper tower frequencies, automatically.

The radio also has a built-in crew intercom; it monitors two frequencies automatically; it has one-touch 121.5 tuning; there’s a built-in weather channel receiver (U.S. version); and a built-in DC-DC converter allows 12- or 24-volt installation.

The mounting systems get simpler and simpler, too. The supplied bracket will allow direct replacement of its predecessor, the Icom A200, as well as Bendix/King KY 96A/97A and Garmin SL40. Expect a street price around $1,200, or a point just north of there. Slick, competent and easy: it’s the very definition of cool. Learn more at www.icomamerica.com.

Note from Lizzy:

Private pilots are a strange breed of pilots...they always want something more than they already have, and as there is always new products out there...

Back In The Saddle

2007-08-03T08:27:00.001-04:00

Returning to the cockpit can be exhilaratingand difficult, but worth every frustrating minute

By Marc C. Lee
Photos By Bruce Gauger

The first thing I did was introduce myself to her. I did it quietly as I touched her spinner and as my flight instructor ambled off to untie the right wing. The last thing I needed was my instructor thinking I was crazy for talking to a machine. This was, after all, a machine—a complex assembly of aluminum, cables, spars and wires. There could be no life in this 2,000-pound craft of the air, but I knew better.

I spoke, instead, to the part of this airplane that had shared adventures with her pilots in the past. The part that responded with engine-backfire anger to ham-fisted airplane drivers and rewarded a student’s kind sloppiness with an occasional cloud-puff of a landing. I took my best shot.

“Hello, Seven Sierra Papa. My name is Marc and I’m going to be flying you,” I half-whispered. “It’s been a long time, so please be gentle and good and I will do the same in return.” My instructor was waiting impatiently now by the right cabin door in that crouching position that tall instructors have to assume under a high-wing Cessna. I reached for the cockpit door handle.

It had been 24 years since I’d piloted an aircraft. I had walked away shortly after earning my private certificate for a variety of reasons—most of which had to do with the dismal state of aviation careers in the 1980s. Still, 24 years later, the clatter of a Continental or a Lycoming at cruise power always pulled my eyes upward. I missed flying so much that I decided it was time to come back.

Flying is unique in that it takes considerable preparation and two kinds of learning to do safely: knowledge of navigation, regulations and all the elements related to aviation, and then the physical ability to control the aircraft. While the latter can only be learned in the cockpit, knowledge can—and should—be gained before stepping near an airplane. I started with an inventory of everything I had forgotten about airplanes and flying.

Anyone considering recurrency should begin with an honest self-assessment of where they are in terms of aviation knowledge. Regulations, procedures and techniques have rapidly changed, and relying on a passed written exam from long ago isn’t enough. Start with a good training manual or any of the popular multimedia courses. Take the practice exams and dig into the different chapters, especially the ones about airspace. Any instructor will tell you that a prepared student will be far more successful in the cockpit than an unprepared one.

One key thing is to get your paperwork in order. You’ll have to update the FAA with your current address and you’ll need a current medical certificate. Medical conditions that can ground you may have crept up with no warning; get the medical out of the way so you can relax.

My medical was fresh in my pocket, the ink smeared from my perspiring hands. Right next to it was my crisply gleaming, plastic pilot certificate. The FAA now issues pilot certificates that look like neat little credit cards, which you can obtain through the FAA Website (www.FAA.gov), though you’ll have to surrender your old paper certificate. Armed with the proper paperwork, I was ready.

I was finally standing next to a Cessna 172SP—24 years after I had last sat in the left seat of any airplane—ready for my first flight. My instructor, David Tappan, was also my good friend and the model of a patient and encouraging instructor. At this point in my life, I could also better afford flying. The stars were aligned.

I pulled the little D-handle on the cabin door and it hit me—the smell. Smells can instantly take you back in time, and at that moment, I was 16 and soloing again. It was the familiar aroma of a cockpit.

There’s a very peculiar smell to a cockpit. It’s a combination of sun-baked plastic, burned oil, fuel and leather seasoned with sweat. It’s not a bad smell, but it’s a very specific one, and it’s the same in every airplane from a P-51 to a Learjet. I breathed it in deep like a magic ether that would disappear in seconds. I pulled myself up into the crinkled left seat, adjusted it and put my hand on the worn, black yoke. My eyes scanned the once-familiar instruments as my instructor’s voice broke the spell.

“Okay, let’s go through the before-start checklist and then we’ll go over the GPS and intercom system.”

Intercom system? Oh yeah, we have headsets now. Last time I flew, we yelled at each other and used hand signals. The genteel feel of the headset seemed almost decadent in comparison, and I slipped them over my ears.

While preparing for my return to the cockpit, I learned that there are two essential items you can’t live without: headsets and home computers. Headsets will save your hearing, and having a computer will make your learning easier. I used mine to join online groups and talk with other pilots about training and techniques, and to feel like part of the aviation community. Associations like AOPA and EAA have vast arrays of free tools for pilots—from flight-planning software to airport directories. The Air Safety Foundation also has excellent articles and courses on all aspects of flying.

Back in the cockpit, my instructor went through everything, my mind working to catch up. I set the throttle, turned the key and that old familiar engine sound enveloped my senses like a warm blanket. I let go a little laugh and felt like I was at Disneyland holding one of those giant lollipops that your parents never let you have. My drunk taxiing got us to the edge of the runway, and David asked me what I was going to say to the tower.

Tower? Oh yeah, the tower. We reviewed what I’d say, I clicked the little button taunting my sweaty left index finger and…froze. I said the plane’s number wrong. I said something stupid about “VFR-something-or-other” and just stopped. It sounded like a fast food drive-through order. My hands shook like a teenager reaching for his first girlfriend’s bra.

The high overcast morning was quiet and the tower understood the failings of a new student. I suddenly felt very unworthy of the little plastic card in my wallet that said I was a pilot. We finally made it through the calls and checklists, lined up on the runway and pushed the throttle. We were going flying.

In that instant, I was reborn; it was like a pillow was lifted off my head and I could breathe again. The ground fell away as the sun’s rays flickered like strobes on the shiny surfaces of this grand machine. I wanted to shout, to scream and tell the world what they were missing. I smiled through each bank and climb, watching the horizon in its angled beauty.

My patterns were awful. I had no feet. What is this? What? No, I don’t see the traffic ahead of us, I’m just trying to keep this friggin’ airspeed right. What flaps? No, I didn’t hear the tower. The airplane was ahead of me. I was like the guy in the back of the car who goes along for the ride but nobody talks to. I felt hopeless. My instructor rattled off instructions and I didn’t retain one bit of them. “RIGHT RUDDER!” My armpits were pools and my lower back was sticking to the seat. My legs ached from pushing who-knows-what rudders. I was a mess.

My instructor suggested we call it a day, and I looked at my watch. More than two hours had gone by! I was drained as we made our final approach. My landing was decent only because we survived it. I bounced and swerved and generally flew like my grandmother. But I flew.

I taxied the Cessna back to the FBO, pulled the throttle and mixture and sat as the prop clicked to a stop. It was like I had been untied from the tail of a tiger. My instructor climbed out, asked me to do the paperwork and said, “Good job. See ya inside.” I took a deep, intoxicating breath as he walked away, and both cockpit doors wallowed in the slight breeze like a saloon in an abandoned ghost town. The gyros whirred down.

I had done it. Seven Sierra Papa had treated me well, but had made it clear that this was no game. I was rusty, and there would be many more flights before I could earn that magic logbook endorsement.

Most of all, those two hours brought me back to life. My eyes took in the sunlight and the sky in a new way. Everything looked and smelled different. I ambled back to the FBO with a new swagger to my gait. I would no longer be tied to the ground and—unless some act of God prevented it—I would never, ever give up this amazing thing called flight. I know where I belong now, and my home is the sky.

Prepare Yourself First

Your climb back into the cockpit can be greatly simplified by doing a little homework.

• Renew records: Make sure the FAA has your current address. Paper pilot certificates should be exchanged for the new plastic ones at www.faa.gov.

• Renew medical: You’ll need a current medical before you’ll be legal to fly solo or carry passengers again; www.faa.gov offers a list of medical examiners in your area.

• Training materials: Get a good training manual or multimedia pilot course (ASA, King Schools and Sporty’s are good resources). The name of the game is relearning what you’ve forgotten and learning what’s new since you last flew.

• Current AIM: Even browsing through the Airman’s Information Manual will teach you a great deal. It’s all here, from radio phraseology to airport markings and more.

• Safety information: AOPA’s Air Safety Foundation offers a goldmine of interactive courses and articles on vital safety topics. They’re free, so take advantage of this amazing resource.

• Online forums: There are a number of online aviation forums offering vast amounts of information and advice. Search the Web for “pilot forums.”

• Magazines: Subscribing to a monthly publication like Plane & Pilot will keep you current on technology, techniques and the latest in aircraft and avionics.

• Organizations: Join AOPA or EAA. Each has its strengths and differences, but both have many benefits for members.

• Flight review: (Previously known as the biennial flight review.) This is your ticket back to flying legally. It’s a proficiency evaluation with a CFI. FARs say it must consist of a minimum of one hour of ground instruction and one of flight instruction, but your instructor will tailor it to your proficiency level.

Useful Resources On The Web

FAA Airmen Certification: www.faa.gov/licenses_certificates/airmen_certification
Update your address, get a replacement certificate and download forms.

AOPA (Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association): www.aopa.org
A vast resource of articles, forums, statistics, software and advice.

Air Safety Foundation: www.aopa.org/asf
Interactive courses, safety reports, accident analysis and downloads.

EAA (Experimental Aircraft Association): www.eaa.org
Loads of pilot services, resources and youth programs.

Radio Work: www.liveatc.net
Depending on how long you’ve been out of the cockpit, you should brush up on your radio skills. Live ATC feeds let you listen to the busiest environments in aviation on your computer’s speakers. (Comm1, www.comm1radio.com, offers CD-ROMs designed to help aviators communicate effectively with ATC.)

Getting That Sport-Pilot Ticket

2007-08-02T15:21:00.001-04:00

Sport-pilot certificates are an invitation to fly

By Tim Kern

It’s been official since September 1, 2004, and it’s working: the sport-pilot rule is a reality; light-sport aircraft (LSA) and flight training are available; and maintenance facilities are catching on. So, how does one get that sport-pilot certificate? What does it take, and how much does it cost?

The sport-pilot rule was designed to promote aviation, to bring new pilots into the fray, to make flying more affordable and to make it
simpler.

The FAA asserts that the rule is intended to close some gaps in ultralight training and ultralight-trainer performance; to encourage manufacturers of small, light and safe aircraft; and to clean up some misconceptions surrounding light-aircraft maintenance and procedures.

Said the FAA, “The rule is designed to allow individuals to experience sport and recreational aviation in a manner that’s safe for the intended operations, but not overly burdensome [to the pilot].”

And veteran pilots are important in the grand scheme, too. As existing pilots age and shy away from taking medical exams, they drop out of the pilot population. The sport-pilot rule doesn’t require an FAA medical; only a state driver’s license—and the pilot’s self-appraisal of fitness to fly—are required.

Sport-pilot aircraft (airplanes, weight-shift aircraft, gyroplanes, powered parachutes, balloons and gliders) are primarily designed for recreational and training purposes. That doesn’t mean some can’t go cross-country, but it does mean that they’re not optioned-up or overly expensive.

Relatively simple airplanes are relatively inexpensive, and sport-pilot aircraft include a number of classics (which are inexpensive because of their age) and new designs. These single-engine, fixed-gear, two-seaters (maximum) need to meet a few basic criteria involving weight, maximum and minimum speeds, and complexity, but many an LSA will fit the needs of most new pilots and plenty of veterans.

What Makes It So Accessible?
“Cheap” and “easy” are the bywords. Since the aircraft are simpler, and since the operating limitations keep them in more-open airspace, training requirements for a sport-pilot certificate, the official word for license, are simpler than for a private-pilot license. Bottom line: a talented and dedicated student can get a license in as few as 20 hours of instruction, while a private ticket takes a minimum of 40. Fewer hours of required instruction saves considerable money and time.

With simpler aircraft and fewer requirements for radio work and, frequently, navigation, sport pilots can enjoy flight sooner, in “easier” airspace, in easier-to-fly aircraft. Further, a sport pilot isn’t allowed to fly at night or in instrument conditions, so a lot of additional risks are eliminated.

What Does It Take?
We know that it’s easier to get a sport-pilot ticket than to get a private-pilot certificate, but aviation is serious business; the training isn’t merely a formality. Flight instructors and the FAA are focused on the idea of safe flight, and safe flight requires knowledge and attention.

There are two tests for a new pilot: the knowledge, or written test, and the flight test. Learn the material to pass the FAA’s knowledge test—rules, regulations and basic airmanship—and score at least 70%. This isn’t too hard, as there are many ground schools you can attend (if you can’t find a specific sport-pilot course nearby, a private-pilot ground school will tell you more than you need to know). ASA, Gleim and King Schools, among others, have good courses available.

It’s probably best to find a school that specializes in LSA training; there are more opening every month, and they’re not hard to find. Organizations (EAA, LAMA, AOPA) have online directories, but the best source for up-to-the-minute information often comes from the LSA manufacturers or importers themselves. Because they know their customers, and they know their own delivery schedules, they’ll know where you can fly their aircraft.

You must be conversant in English, and have a valid state-issued driver’s license. Anyone can study for the LSA certificate, but a pilot needs to be at least 16 (or 14 to fly an LSA glider or balloon).

What Are The Restrictions?
A sport pilot may not operate under sport-pilot rules at night; officially, that’s between one hour after sunset to one hour before sunrise. A sport pilot may not fly more than 10,000 feet above mean sea level (MSL). A sport pilot may not fly near big airports (Classes B, C and D) unless he or she is signed off after special training and the aircraft is equipped to enter that kind of airspace. Check with the manufacturer
for the equipment list.

These flight restrictions on sport pilots usually don’t cause problems, unless you want to clear some big mountains. The aircraft isn’t restricted, except by the manufacturer, so when you get your private certificate, the aircraft may already be able to keep up with your expanded ability.

In the meantime, if you plan to cross high passes in a capable LSA, bring your private-pilot friend along, and have the friend fly the mountain pass. Build time in the LSA and upgrade your license to private when you have enough time. If you have a night-equipped LSA, you’ll also be able to get a night-flying sign-off with a private ticket.

Since familiarity with any given aircraft makes a better pilot, a sport pilot must be trained to fly each different type, make and model of aircraft he or she wants to fly. (Otherwise, one might reach for a light switch and turn off the engine!) A SportCruiser pilot, for instance, can’t fly a SportStar until he or she has a checkout flight and sign-off by an instructor. The sign-off is good for life, though, so don’t fret too much about what particular model the local school uses. (When you get your private ticket, this restriction virtually disappears.)

Occasionally, a manufacturer will offer full-ticket training if you buy a new factory-assembled LSA. That could be a great deal, especially if you’re thinking of buying an LSA anyway. Nearly all will be happy to give you your checkout, if you buy their aircraft.

What Does It Cost?
This is a tough question, a lot like, “How much is a car?” Unlike cars, though, you probably shouldn’t be looking for a junker, no matter how cheap it seems. LSA flight training is a lot less expensive than private-pilot training, because (1) you need half as many hours and (2) the aircraft are less expensive to operate. The basic flight regimen currently ranges from about $3,000 to $4,000, depending on geography and how much training you need. A private-pilot certificate, for reference, will cost a newcomer somewhere between $5,500 and $7,000. With your sport-pilot license, though, you can build flight time inexpensively, as you take additional ground training for your private, and LSA time counts toward air-time requirements for most advanced certificates.

The sport-pilot certificate is the best invitation to fly since the introduction of ultralights more than a quarter-century ago; furthermore, the aircraft are more practical, faster and safer. Simply stated, sport-pilot certification is the gateway to general aviation, and the gates are open right now.

From The Editor - A Moveable Feast For The Senses

2007-08-01T22:11:00.001-04:00

By Jeff Berlin

Radial engines have such a great sound,” I thought, as I waited for a friend of mine to shut down his idling T6. Awash in the angled, warm light of the setting sun, his yellow warbird cast a long shadow across the ramp at Andover-Aeroflex, an idyllic little airfield in western New Jersey. As the shiny Hamilton prop wound down from a sparkling blur, the rhythmic cacophony of the big Pratt & Whitney was replaced by the occasional staccato of soft ticking as its nine cylinders cooled from the flight over. This wasn’t just flying, it was aviating, and I wouldn’t have felt dorky if I were wearing a leather cap and goggles. I would have felt cool, actually, for this was one of those moments that so few of my nonpilot friends would ever experience. That’s the thing about flying—it sometimes makes history tangible.

“Chances are…”

It’s also not every day one gets the offer to fly a good, long cross-country in a classic, round-engine Beech 18, so when air show star Michael Mancuso offered me a ride home to New York City in his (after a week at Oshkosh), I jumped at the chance. As we were droning—no, singing—along, to the delightful tune of the twin Pratt R-985s, I tuned an oldies radio station from Toronto into the ADF. This already amazing flight became transcendental as Johnny Mathis crooned through my Bose Xs, backed up by the subtle and unmistakable hum of 18 cranking cylinders. It was impossible not to be transported to 1957 as I closed my eyes and dreamt what flying must have felt like when JFK was a senator from Mass., Jackie Robinson played his last game of pro ball and Elvis topped the charts twice with “All Shook Up” and “Jailhouse Rock.”

“New York Radio, New York Radio. This is Twin Beech 153. Do you read? Over.”

Such a good memory. While round engines like those in the T6 and Twin Beech aren’t produced in the States any more, Budd Davisson, in “Return of the Round Motor,” talks about a popular radial still produced in certain former Eastern Bloc countries. It’s good to know that those engines, and the airplanes that bolt onto them, will be around for a long time to come, so that not only the hills, but the skies, will be alive with the sound of music.

A couple weeks ago, I also flew a shiny new silver Turbo Cirrus SR22 GTS. The company calls it their Sterling paint option, and the Turbo’s performance, fit and finish was just that. After clocking nearly 500 hours flying normally aspirated ’22s, I’m now spoiled all over again. Check out how Cirrus leapfrogged itself in my cover story about their sexy, silver steed.

And I asked my friend Cindy Rousseau, who wrote in the December 2006 issue about getting back on the proverbial horse after a groundloop in her and her husband’s Cessna 180, to discuss how she prepares for, and flies into, the buzzing hive of a fly-in. For the past few years, I’ve flown with Cindy’s group to AirVenture Oshkosh in a gaggle of mismatched birds. It’s always been a kick. Cindy has mastered getting safely into and out of some of the busiest and most chaotic airspace. She’s got some colorful anecdotes and useful advice for us as air show season gets started with Sun ’n Fun this month.

Thanks again for reading, and as always, I look forward to your comments. I can usually be reached at jtberlin@wernerpublishing.com, at least when I’m not wrangling rides behind round engines.

Evektor SportStar: Czech Mate

2007-07-31T18:13:00.000-04:00

Mostly metal and all fun, the Evektor SportStar brings its own formula to the LSA class

By Bill Cox
Photography By Jessica Ambats

The category is called light-sport aircraft, and one look at the Evektor SportStar suggests that it practically defines the type. A product of the Czech Republic’s largest aircraft manufacturer, Evektor-Aerotechnik of Kunovice, the SportStar is one of many products from a company with a prestigious international client list—Boeing, Mercedes, Volkswagen, Let Aircraft and others.

Evektor was established more than 35 years ago, specifically to build motorgliders and autogyros, and the company’s fortunes have since expanded to include production of a variety of aerospace components. Gross sales in 2004 topped $50 million, and the company has some 450 employees.

Like all the other LSAs, the SportStar mounts two seats and is restricted to 137 mph. Unlike many of the others, however, the airplane has the distinction of having been the first LSA certified in the United States. The Eurostar, Evektor’s European version of essentially the same airplane, has been selling overseas in 30 countries for years, and there’s a fleet of nearly 500 airplanes already in the air.

Little surprise there. The airplane is built hell-for-stout, constructed on a production line in Eastern Europe that also produces fully certified, normal-category aircraft. The SportStar isn’t an aerobatic airplane (though it looks as if it should be), but it’s nevertheless built to withstand acro G loads of +6/-3.

Evektor disdains composites, preferring to build the SportStar primarily from all-metal materials, mostly Alclad 2024 Duralumin alloys. The fuselage, wings and empennage are constructed mostly of aluminum, with the occasional use of other metals—galvanized steel on the firewall, for example. (Inevitably, the airplane does incorporate a limited amount of composites in those areas where they make sense—wheel fairings, wingtips, gear legs, etc.)

The SportStar features riveted, nearly all-metal construction, but despite its use of metal, it’s hardly a conventional machine. The engineers at Evektor were well aware that rivets tend to work and loosen over time, so surfaces and structures are attached with a combination of rivets and bonding. This holds the rivets firmly in place and helps provide a stronger airframe and wing.

The SportStar has a definite look of a sport plane with its low wing and bubble canopy. In this case, “bubble” is definitely the operative term.
The airplane’s most prominent feature on the ground is that large, bulbous expanse of Plexiglas. The canopy actually bulges as it rises from elbow height, providing additional width at shoulder level. The good news is that visibility is excellent in every direction except straight down. The not-so-good news is that the bubble is so all-encompassing that it acts like a greenhouse and heats up in summer. Fly high.

The airplane’s cabin is a surprising 46.5 inches across, wider than most other four-seat singles, much less two-seat sport planes. The glass bubble also is large enough to accommodate pilots as tall as 6’ 2”.

Gross weight is set at 1,212 pounds, and Evektor suggests a standard airplane goes out the door at an empty weight of 668 pounds. That leaves a useful load of 544 pounds. Subtract a full service of fuel, and you’re left with 358 pounds for people and stuff in the baggage area (stuff can weigh up to 50 pounds). A pair of 180-pound pilots will bring the airplane to gross. Fortunately, the SportStar’s configuration provides a CG envelope that’s wide and forgiving.

Pilot and passenger ride high in the SportStar, elevated enough to allow a clear view straight back at the vertical tail. A number of military fighters feature the same seating configuration, actually positioning the pilots above the top fuselage line to help them spot threats from their six. The large, tinted canopy hinges at the front and folds forward via two gas cylinders for entry/egress, so it can’t be opened in flight.

Looking out from the left seat, you’ll note a smooth, simple, functional wing design, nearly rectangular in shape with a single spar at center chord, no taper and no noticeable dihedral. The wing is somewhat reminiscent of a Tiger’s airfoil in appearance, if not in technical description. The wing features split flaps, so the top surface is uninterrupted during flap operation. Standard flaps are manual a la Cherokee with a center-mounted Johnson bar lever, and they provide 15, 30 or 50 degrees of deflection. Electric flaps are an option, with infinite flap positions. Deploy those huge lift enhancers, and stall drops to less than 40 knots.

The trapezoidal empennage is relatively conventional in design and construction. One Evektor option is a tow mechanism directly beneath the tailcone that allows glider or banner towing.

Out on the pointy end of the airplane, the propeller is a two- or three-blade tractor, ground adjustable for cruise, climb or any setting in between. The SportStar’s motive force is a four-cylinder, four-stroke Rotax 912ULS, cranking out 100 hp at the max-rated 5,800 rpm and spinning the prop through a reduction gearing system. METO power (maximum except takeoff) after five minutes is 5,500 rpm, and cruise is recommended at 4,800 rpm, generating about 71 hp. Redline for takeoff is 2,700 prop rpm, and cruise is recommended at 2,150. The Rotax’s cylinder heads are water-cooled, while the cylinders themselves utilize more-conventional air-cooling. TBO is 1,500 hours.

(Incidentally, the SportStar is also available with an 80 hp version of the same engine. Only climb suffers with the derated engine, as it’s approved for operation at the same max cruise setting of 4,800 rpm, again worth 71 hp.)

The aircraft’s ground handling is excellent, with a turn radius of less than 30 feet. If you can drive a Cherokee or Skyhawk around the ramp, you should be right at home in the SportStar.

With its current gross weight of 1,212 pounds and the “big” engine, the SportStar boasts a climb rate of 840 fpm. That’s a reasonable number for only 100 hp. Better still, service ceiling tops 13,000 feet. This is no ultralight. Sometime down the road, SportStar may opt for a higher gross weight, as the LSA limit is 1,320 pounds, still more than 100 pounds away.

Choose to cruise at a typical 6,500 to 7,500 feet, and you’ll see reasonably good speed. Evektor recognizes that cruise is conditional upon a dozen factors that aren’t always controllable, and for that reason, they set the max cruise number at a variable 100 to 110 knots. Economy cruise is pegged at 95 knots.

The SportStar isn’t strictly about speed, however. The cabin is large and comfortable, vibration is minimal, and the noise level is reasonable, so the airplane should make a good platform for cross-country transport. Fuel capacity is 31.5 gallons. Burn is about 5 gph, so you could reasonably plan four- to five-hour trips without stretching reserves. In no-wind conditions, that means you could fly cross-country legs as long as 550 nm—Los Angeles to Albuquerque, Dallas to Denver or Chicago to Atlanta—in one hop.

In-flight handling characteristics are pleasant without being super quick. Roll rate is on the order of 40 degrees per second, and pitch authority is well harmonized. Unlike some other LSAs, the SportStar manifests a reasonable amount of adverse yaw. That means you’ll need to relearn the use of rudder to coordinate turns greater than 10 degrees of bank.

Power-off glide at 50 knots results in a sink rate under 500 fpm. If the Rotax stops unexpectedly and you’re 7,500 feet above near-sea-level terrain, you’ll have about 15 minutes to find an appropriate parking spot. Stalls are fairly benign, with little tendency to spin. Published dirty stall is 39 knots, and in combination with effective brakes, that translates to good short-field characteristics, well under 700 feet for both takeoff and landing.

Landing characteristics don’t present any special challenge. It’s easy to rotate the nose to a comfortable, high angle of attack for touchdown on the mains, then lower the nosewheel to the asphalt. Braking is with standard toe brakes.

The airplane I flew was out of Sport Planes West [www.sport planeswest.com, (951) 765-5020] in Hemet, Calif., one of five American dealers. The folks in Hemet’s suggested base price for the standard SportStar is $104,950 with an operational stack of VFR radios and instruments. Add most of the options the majority of pilots would normally select (including an autopilot), and you’ll have a fully operational cross-country machine for about $113,000.

Light-sport aircraft have become a force in general aviation in the last two years, and as the first certified LSA, Evektor’s SportStar is one of the leaders of the pack. It’s a little more expensive than some other models, but if you’re looking for a big cabin, good performance and economical operation, the SportStar may be an ideal ticket to ride.

2007 Cirrus SR22 Turbo

2007-07-30T10:19:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Base price:
$544,295

Engine make/model:
TCM IO-550N

TBO (hrs.):
2000

Horsepower@altitude:
310@SL

Fuel type:
100LL

Propeller type:
Hartzell ACSII/3-blade

Landing gear type:
Fixed/Tri.

Max ramp weight (lbs):
3400

Gross weight (lbs.):
3400

Landing weight (lbs.):
3400

Empty weight, std. (lbs.):
2418

Useful load, std. (lbs.):
982

Useful fuel (gals.):
81

Wingspan:
38 ft. 6 in.

Cabin doors:
2

PERFORMANCE
CRUISE SPEED, 75% power (KTAS):
203

FUEL CONSUMPTION, 75% power (gph):
17.5

Vso (kts.):
61

Best rate of climb SL (fpm.):
1304

Takeoff ground roll (ft.):
1574

Landing ground roll (ft.):
1141

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.):
2325

Best Aviation Careers!

2007-07-29T06:02:00.000-04:00

Which one will you choose?

By Sparky Barnes Sargent

Do you catch yourself gazing skyward when you hear an airplane flying overhead? If you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward aviation, then why not consider making it your career?

The aviation field is increasingly diverse and ripe with opportunities for promising careers, whether you thrive upon being aloft or on the ground. If you love to travel and want to be a professional pilot, you have many exciting choices, including (but certainly not limited to) flying for an airline, corporation, charter company or air-taxi operator—or you might prefer to be a military pilot in the service of your country (although new technology and unmanned aerial vehicles may reduce these positions). Plane & Pilot’s research shows that several regional and cargo airlines are redoubling their hiring efforts and are attracting new pilots by lowering their entry-level requirements and increasing pay and perks. Corporate charter and fractional ownership operations are also hiring; these positions, however, may have higher minimum experience requirements than the airlines.

While some types of careers—such as pilot, mechanic and engineer—continue to be mainstays in the aviation industry, technological advances and sociocultural influences are combining to form new aviation careers. If you like working with people and have keen analytical skills, you might be intrigued by the burgeoning career path in human factors—where you help develop better ways for humans and machines to interact. Or maybe you’re more technically oriented and would be interested in the field of aviation-related global security and intelligence.

If your passion for flight simply embraces recreational flying, as opposed to professional flying, yet you’d still like to be involved in some aspect of aviation on a daily, hands-on basis, then perhaps a career in air-traffic management or in aircraft-maintenance science would intrigue you. Or how about devoting your mathematical and design abilities to the challenging career of an aerodynamic, structural or propulsion engineer?

Whichever aviation career path you choose, this is an excellent time to prepare yourself to enter this wide-ranging job market, which is predicted to grow at a healthy rate as baby boomers begin retiring in droves, leaving a looming void that employers will be eager to fill with highly motivated, energetic self-starters. To better understand this impinging deficit in the workforce, consider this: around 77 million babies were born in the United States from 1946 to 1964, and the first of these boomers turned 60 in 2006. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, in 2000, boomers comprised 28% of the U.S. population. Translated into occupational opportunities, 43% of aerospace engineers who are 45 or older will leave their professions during the period between 1998 and 2008, along with 47.9% of airline pilots (Monthly Labor Review, July 2000). In addition to those figures, Aviation Information Resources, Incorporated, predicted in a February 2007 news release that “…approximately 8,500 new airline pilot jobs will be created in 2007; 2006 yielded 8,256 new jobs.”

An advanced degree from an aviation university will help open the door to your new career—not only through coursework, but also through industry internships and networking. The National Association of Colleges and Employers’ Job Outlook 2007 Fall Preview reports, “For the fourth straight year, employers are reporting a double-digit percentage increase in college hiring…employers are predicting an overall increase in college hiring of 17.4 percent.”

Ken Polovitz, a private pilot who has been involved with collegiate aviation for more than 20 years, is Assistant Dean of Student Services at the University of North Dakota—Aerospace. Polovitz declares, “In our 40-year history, it’s just unbelievable—we’ve never seen it like this, as far as job opportunities. There’s never been a better time to look at careers in aviation, whether you’re looking at professional flight, management opportunities or air traffic control. And it’ll only get better, as far as the salaries and benefits, because it’ll have to—there’s always a lag time, but I think we’re really embarking on some interesting times in this industry. Along with that comes a cautionary ‘however;’ you still have to take the steps, do well, work hard and, at this point, if you’re looking to make a lot of money fast in this industry, it’s not there—that’s the reality of today; but it will get better.”

Lisa Scott Kollar graduated from Embry-Riddle’s professional four-year pilot program, Aeronautical Science, and is now Executive Director of Career Services for Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University. She agrees that the outlook is positive for aviation and aerospace careers, and shares these encouraging words: “Employers are looking for very bright, well-rounded individuals who can take a leadership role and also contribute as a team member. They want students who maintain good GPAs, who gain practical work experience through cooperative education and internships. Young people need to take ownership and responsibility for their career paths and demonstrate personal initiative by taking advantage of self-assessments and all available resources. In addition, students need to conduct their own research so they can get the best education and training and earn the certifications that they need to obtain their goals. And based on my experience, I would like to see more women interested in having a career in aviation and aerospace—there are wonderful opportunities available, and it’s exciting to go out and accomplish things that people don’t get to do on a regular basis!”

Plane & Pilot recently surveyed schools throughout the country with aviation-related programs, and has compiled a list of the “Top 10 Aviation Careers.” These careers soared to the top of our list because they represent lucrative salaries, good working schedules, stimulating challenges, potential growth opportunities and an interesting variety of positions and geographical locations—all with a projected increase in the number of positions becoming available during the next decade. We’ve also considered the time and financial resources required for entry into these positions, which are as follows:

1. Pilot (airline, corporate, charter, fractional ownership, air taxi, flight instructor, military, test pilot)
Airline pilots begin their careers with the regionals and may move on to the majors; commercial pilots usually have a lower experience threshold before hiring—and commercial opportunities are growing; and flight instructors often build time to qualify for another pilot career. Military pilots may see fewer opportunities in the future if unmanned aerial vehicles become prevalent in military operations.
Salary range: $15,000–$200,000

2. Airframe & Powerplant Mechanic
Mechanics must be federally certified and are responsible for maintaining aircraft in airworthy and safe operating condition. They may work with jet or reciprocating engines and airframes constructed from sheet metal or composite materials.
Salary range: $25,000–$80,000

3. Air Traffic Controller
An air traffic controller may work in a high-pressure environment and specialize in ground, departure or en route control as they direct the flow of air traffic. A controller must be federally certified, know federal regulations and be able to quickly implement emergency procedures if necessary.
Salary range: $58,000–$139,000

4. Avionics Technician
An avionics technician repairs, tests and installs aviation equipment. Such technicians must have a knowledge of electronics, computers and math, and they must possess analytical skills to diagnose equipment problems. Vocational school or two years’ training/education is typically required.
Salary range: $36,000–$56,000

5. Airline Dispatcher
Dispatchers normally have the authority to dispatch and direct/divert airline flight operations, monitor the progress of flights, and advise flight crews of conditions affecting the safety of flights.
Salary range: $20,000–$150,000

6. Meteorologist
A meteorologist needs a strong background in advanced math and physics, and an ability to interpret and analyze atmospheric data effectively in order to create forecasts for flight operations. A college degree is typically required.
Salary range: $34,000–$106,000

7. Structural Engineer
These engineers develop technical solutions for complex structural problems. They must understand engineering principles, interpret drawings and analyze aircraft structures. A college degree is typically required.
Salary range: $50,000–$80,000

8. Electrical Engineer
These engineers design and integrate electrical components and systems. They must understand electrical theory and schematics and possess solid science, math, analytical and trouble-shooting skills. A college degree is typically required.
Salary range: $50,000–$100,000

9. Propulsion Engineer
These engineers work with installation, testing and analysis of aircraft engines and must have knowledge of fuel, exhaust, combustion and other engine systems, as well as science, math and analytical skills. A college degree is typically required.
Salary range: $50,000–$100,000

10. Human Factors & Industrial Design
Individuals in these positions must be able to combine their knowledge of engineering and technology with elements of psychology in order to develop smooth-working interfaces between machines and humans, with a focus on usability, ergonomics and aesthetic product design. A college degree is typically required.
Salary range: $43,000–$134,000

Imagine how fulfilling it would be to keep your passion for aviation alive by waking up every morning to go to a financially rewarding job that impacts the aviation industry in a positive way.

Greasing It On

2007-07-28T09:30:00.000-04:00

Smooth handling: some advice on how to make every landing a squeaker.

By Norm Goyer

On any given flight, the landing is the maneuver that concerns pilots the most. It concerns the pilot because, when it comes to aircraft handling, the takeoff is pretty simple, and once in the air, controlling the aircraft is far less complicated than driving a car in traffic. Nevertheless, at the end of every flight is the dreaded landing. Every professional pilot has found his or her techniques for a smooth landing. A perfect landing every time under all ground and wind conditions isn’t easily obtainable or necessary for a safe flight.

The almost universally accepted tricycle-gear aircraft have the two main wheels attached to the airplane (a short distance aft of the CG) and a nosewheel under the nose of the aircraft. Taking off and landing tricycle aircraft using hard-top runways are far easier than grass runways. But why is that, and why aren’t they prone to groundloops like taildraggers? The reason is the location of the main landing gear in relation to the location of the CG. Anyone who has ever taken gymnastics or competitive diving knows that the rest of your body will follow where you move your head. That’s because your head is the heaviest mass on your body. Substitute the fuselage of your airplane for your head and you’ll see that when the nose of the aircraft moves off the centerline, the rest of the aircraft, which is behind the CG, will follow. Because it’s located behind the CG, the fuselage will rotate behind the wheels, resulting in a groundloop. Tricycle aircraft have the heaviest part of the aircraft in front of the CG so the fuselage resists pivoting. Also, taildraggers sit on the runway with a positive angle of attack and tend to rise into the air because of gusts or excess landing speed. Most tricycle-gear aircraft at rest can have a neutral or negative angle of attack and tend to remain on the ground while moving on their three wheels.

All of the most popular modern GA aircraft are tricycle-gear, and many of the newest designs are also nonretractable, with the exception of Mooney and Beechcraft. So let’s talk about the planes that you probably fly. These aircraft are divided into high wings and low wings, most with tricycle gear. Low-wing aircraft usually land easier because of the cushioning compressed air of ground effect—because of the wings’ close proximity to the ground. High-wing aircraft also have some ground effect but not as much as low-wings do. Low-wing Pipers are easy to land also because of a good dihedral angle, strong ground effect, plus hydraulic landing-gear struts set far apart. Cessnas use the patented Land-O-Matic landing-gear system with tapered steel-tube landing-gear legs.

For landing in strong crosswinds, it’s suggested to use minimum or no flap deflection. And fully deploying Cessna-type flaps will most likely make a go-around difficult during those first few moments after powering up since the nose will want to rise dramatically.

Most aircraft will benefit from proper use of flaps during landings. Keep the nose over the centerline and start your flare as you near the pavement, keeping that nose up until rubber meets runway. Don’t relax your attention until the aircraft is stopped on the ramp. Heavier aircraft may need increased force to raise the nose, so be prepared to use trim to ease your workload

But what qualifies as a squeaker? An aircraft shouldn’t touch the wheels to the ground until it’s no longer flying. When the horns, whistles and croakers are sounding, the plane should be only inches, or at most a foot or two, off the runway. With power at idle, the plane will eventually stall and stop flying. Because the plane still has about 40 to 50 knots of forward speed, the wheels start to spin and you have a greaser.

10 Ways To Improve Your Landings

1. A runway is a runway. Don’t establish turn points for entering, downwind to base or base to final by objects on the ground—use your position in relation to the runway. And learn to judge your distance and height above the runway.

2. Have benchmark pattern speeds for downwind, base, final and short final, but be flexible and know how to modify them when necessary for weather conditions and varying aircraft weights.

3. The majority of landing accidents are caused by either being too high or too low on final. Combine that with the wrong speed on final for the conditions, and a landing can be difficult and even unsafe. Always pick a spot and try for a spot landing.

4. The preferred pattern should place your aircraft at a distance and height where, if you experience power failure, you can still land on the runway.

5. It’s essential to maintain proper speed control on final.

6. Make every landing as if you were flying a taildragger—control your drift. If applicable to your plane, stall it on at the slowest possible speed. Current instructors teaching in high-performance aircraft, such as the Cirrus and Columbia, and in light twins now give lessons on “landing attitude” (see number 8).

7. If something about your approach feels wrong, abort, go around and set up again.

8. Your plane isn’t a car. Don’t drive it onto the runway. The accepted method for landing heavier aircraft is attitude landing. The nose is positioned in a positive angle of attack, and this angle of descent is held by using power to maintain the correct altitude—if the plane goes below the glidepath, power up; if it goes above, power back.
9If conditions permit, hold the nosewheel off the runway as long as you can. This attitude helps slow the plane down without brakes and minimizes wear on the nosegear, tire and wheel.

10. Don’t just know the theory of crosswind, short-field and soft-field landings; practice them under controlled conditions or with an instructor. They’re fun and will increase your landing ability.

Landings can be fun when done properly. Practice approaches and landings at various types of airports, but include some controlled fields to stay current with tower practices. Keep in mind that though a perfect and safe landing should be your goal, it’s not always easily otainable. If you continue making the same types of landing errors, fly with an instructor who can help solve any problems you may be experiencing. Above all else, remember that flying—and, yes, even landings—should be fun.

The Evolution Of Epic

2007-07-27T20:35:00.000-04:00

Epic is planning a whole family of high-performance turboprops and jets, starting with the Dynasty and Elite

By Bill Cox
Photography By Mike Shore

At a time when very light jets are all the rage, turboprops might seem “old school” or out of step with the times. After all, the new VLJs will fly higher and faster for the same or less money.

Well, not exactly. Regular readers of Pilot Journal may recall that we flew the homebuilt Epic LT turboprop out of Las Vegas a few years ago, and even in those early days before the first VLJ had flown, the big turboprop showed all the signs of competing with the VLJs head-to-head in practically every area.

Rick Schrameck, CEO of Epic Air in Bend, Ore., believes his homebuilt airplane will nearly match the performance of most VLJs, and the price for both acquisition and operation will be considerably lower. The trouble with a homebuilt is that you do have to build it. As much as we may love the performance and concept of a homebuilt over a production airplane, most of us don’t have the time, the talent or the inclination to construct one, especially a sophisticated, pressurized six-seat jetprop.

In fact, the folks at Epic have turned that perceived downside on its head. Epic Air is in the process of certifying a version of the 1,200 shp Epic LT homebuilt, and the company may actually benefit from its shared experience with the homebuilt. “We’re doing something that’s relatively new in aviation,” says Schrameck. “We’re using the homebuilt program to help verify the market and the engineering on the production Dynasty certification effort. We’re benefiting from the experience of the homebuilders in our development program on the certified airplane. By using the feedback we receive from those homebuilt customers, we may be able to shortstop problems in the certification program, and that translates directly to savings of both time and money. We’re also using revenue from the homebuilt program to help fund the Dynasty production airplane.”

In this case, “we” refers to three aggressive entrepreneurs who’ve made their fortunes in various aspects of high-tech industries. Rick Schrameck has earned his money primarily in the computer and communications business. For the last 20 years, Schrameck has rescued and managed companies in trouble. He’s also an expert on auto emissions and standards and aircraft turbocharging. Mike Shealy is general manager of Intel’s Integrated Access Division, another product of the high-tech world, and has been a CEO and senior vice president of several major computer and technology companies. Jeff Sanders has started and sold 10 companies in the last 20 years and is now involved in land acquisition, primarily along the California coast. (Sanders also built and flies his own Epic LT.)

Epic operates a 100,000-square-foot facility in Bend, Ore., producing components for the Epic LT and providing builder assistance in the actual construction of the aircraft. The company currently employs 150 people at Bend, and nine Epic LT homebuilts have flown away at this writing. The backlog on the world’s most impressive experimental aircraft is nearly 30 airplanes, which means 40 pilots so far have written checks for more than $1 million dollars for an airplane they know they’ll still have to build. With a 4,000 fpm climb rate, 335-knot cruise speed and full six-seat payload, the Epic LT is probably the most exotic homebuilt ever offered. It’s also the most expensive, but that doesn’t seem to have inhibited sales.

Epic’s Dynasty certification effort is also a little different in that it’s being launched in Canada. Just as motion pictures and television productions are finding Canada to be a friendly and economical environment, aircraft manufacturers are discovering that Canada is an easy place to work. Diamond Aircraft produces all its North American products from a plant in London, Ontario. Airplanes certified under Canadian regulations are automatically approved for U.S. operation under a reciprocal agreement.

Rick Schrameck emphasizes that’s not because of a lack of trying on the FAA’s part. “They have some very talented people at the FAA, but they’re simply overwhelmed,” says the CEO. “The extreme amount of time and money necessary to get an airplane certified in the United States isn’t a result of any malevolent government obstructionist plot. Those folks simply have far more work than they can handle.”

When Epic went shopping for a place to build the Dynasty a few years ago, they investigated a number of alternatives. “We looked at business possibilities in several European countries, Brazil and a number of Canadian provinces. In the end, Canada won out,” says Schrameck. “The Canadian government is eager to foster investment, and they offered us some major incentives to locate north of the border.”

As a result, the Canadian division of Epic Air is building a 100,000-square-foot manufacturing facility outside Calgary, Alberta. Additionally, Epic Air is working with the newly formed Canadian Centre for Aircraft Certification to build a 50,000-square-foot certification facility. Epic Air will be the first manufacturer to utilize the CCAC facility, but the CCAC hopes to attract other companies to certify aircraft north of the border. In two to three years, as the program spools up, Epic Air hopes to expand its Calgary production facility to 200,000 square feet, and Epic hopes to be building Dynasty propjets in Calgary with a workforce of between 500 and 600. According to Schrameck, the Dynasty is expected to be certified sometime in the fourth quarter of 2008 and should sell for about $2 million in early 2009.

When we talked to Schrameck in late February, he commented that there were “more than 20 orders” for the Dynasty. He strongly implied there were a lot more, but settled for 20 for now.

The Dynasty won’t be Epic Air’s only product. The company is currently flight-testing a twin jet based on the Dynasty. It’s called the Elite and will be introduced as a homebuilt in late 2007, then be certified and produced at the CCAC in Calgary starting in 2009. Preliminary specs include Williams FJ-33 engines rated for 1,550 pounds of thrust apiece. Max cruise will be more than 400 knots and max altitude will be 41,000 feet. With luck, we’ll be seeing the Elite prototype at EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh.

As if all that wasn’t enough, Schrameck says the company will also be offering two 90%-scaled models based on the Epic fuselage and wing, project code name Mini-Me 1 and 2. One will be a slightly downsized version of the current turboprop, and the second will be a single-engine jet similar to the Diamond Jet, only stretched 14 inches to allow more cabin room.

If this program sounds aggressive, consider that Rick Schrameck, Mike Shealy and Jeff Sanders are very successful businessmen. This isn’t a lark for them. The Epic/Dynasty trio have studied the market, they understand exactly what they’re doing, and they’re convinced the models they’re planning will be well received.

If performance of the prototype Dynasty is any indication, they very well may be correct.

Eclipse Concept Jet Debuts At Oshkosh AirVenture 2007

2007-07-26T20:28:00.000-04:00

Commanding center stage at the expansive Eclipse Aviation booth, the Eclipse Concept Jet drew a large crowd as it was introduced to the world.

The ECJ (Eclipse Concept Jet) is a single-engine turbofan-powered, V-tail beauty of sleek composite construction. It’s very much in the same genre as a Detroit concept car in that it will be used to help Eclipse figure out the depth and breadth of the burgeoning single-engine jet market in the coming months and years.

The super-secret project reads like a World War II drama: the entire program went from first design to first test flight in just six months. The ECJ has already logged 30 flight-test hours at speeds to 250 knots and altitudes up to 25,000 feet.

Company President and CEO Vern Raburn insists the jet is meant purely for market research and no production date has been set. “The ECJ will allow us to obtain real, quantifiable data (to help in) evaluating markets for future Eclipse products...to reveal the potential of this emerging category, and our opportunity to add real value to it.”

Projected performance specs are impressive: max cruise speed of 345 knots at FL350 and a service ceiling of 41,000 feet, for starters. For more information, visit www.eclipseaviation.com, or call (505) 245-7555.

Eclipse Concept Jet (ECJ)
Range (nm): 1250
Stall speed (KEAS): 61
Takeoff distance to 50 feet at sea level (ft.): 2200
Landing distance max landing weight at sea level (ft.): 1800
Time to climb to FL250 (min.): 12
Time to climb to FL410 (min.): 27
Max takeoff weight (lbs.): 4480
Empty weight (lbs.): 2480
Useful load (lbs.): 2000
Fuel capacity (lbs.): 1261 (186 gal)
External length (ft.): 29
External height (ft.): 8.8
Wingspan (ft.): 36
Seating capacity: 4

Cirrus SRS Debuts At Oshkosh 2007

2007-07-25T11:38:00.000-04:00

Under a beautiful Wisconsin summer sky, Cirrus Design CEO Alan Klapmeier unveiled his company’s latest design before an enthusiastic audience of media and aviation lovers. A green parachute canopy covered the Cirrus SRS right up until Klapmeier finished his comments.

With a flourish, the Cirrus crew pulled the billowing chute aside to reveal a beautiful, streamlined composite LSA airplane that isn’t yet in production.

“We’re working some things out,” said Klapmeier with a laugh, “such as how to get it a little slower. It’s too fast. But that’s an easier problem than the other way around!”

The LSA design spec calls for a maximum speed of 120 KCAS. The low-wing two-seater has a useful load of 400-pound minimum, burns premium mogas or avgas (100LL) and has the Cirrus hallmark CAPS airframe parachute system. For more information, visit http://www.cirrusdesign.com/, or call (866) 379-5830.

Cirrus SRS (SR Sport)
Height (ft.): 6.9
Length (ft.): 18.7
Wingspan (ft.): 29.8
Interior Width (in.): 45

All-composite construction
4-point safety harness
Low stall speed (unspecified)
Large baggage compartment
Electric flaps
Trailerable

Cessna Announces Light-Sport Aircraft Details!

2007-07-24T14:31:00.000-04:00

At a press conference at the opening of the annual EAA AirVenture Convention, Cessna Aircraft Company announced details and rolled out a full-scale mock-up of its highly anticipated light-sport aircraft (LSA)—the Model 162 SkyCatcher.

First flight of the prototype Model 162 is set for the first half of 2008 and deliveries are expected to begin in 2009. Cessna expects to produce up to 700 a year at full-rate production.

At an introductory price of $109,500, the 162 will be powered by a Continental O-200D 100 hp, air-cooled, carbureted engine and a fixed-pitch composite propeller. The aircraft will cruise at speeds up to 118 knots and will have a maximum range of 470 nautical miles.

“For the past year, we’ve been soliciting feedback from the market on our proof-of-concept aircraft, and the result is an airplane that we believe is the most advanced and innovative in its class,” said Cessna Chairman, President and CEO Jack J. Pelton.

The Cessna 162 SkyCatcher will feature a Garmin G300 avionics system. Information is presented in a single, split-screen PFD and MFD, or as two full-screen displays with an optional second screen. The SkyCatcher will be capable of VFR/day/night operations.

Orders are being taken at Oshkosh with a $10,000 deposit. The introductory price will hold for the first 1,000 orders, and then increase to $111,500.

The SkyCatcher has a maximum gross weight of 1,320 pounds, a service ceiling of 15,500 feet, a useful load of 490 pounds and a usable fuel load of 24 gallons. It has a cabin width at shoulder height of 44.25 inches. It features two cabin entry doors and forward pivoting seats giving access to a 12.5 cubic-foot baggage compartment. The aircraft will be aluminum and will meet ASTM standard F2245 for LSAs

The aircraft will have tricycle landing gear with a castering nosewheel and standard dual toe-actuated disc brakes.

Based on unit sales, Cessna is the world’s largest manufacturer of general aviation airplanes. In 2006, Cessna delivered 1,239 aircraft, including 307 Citation business jets, and reported revenues of about $4.2 billion and a backlog of $8.5 billion. Since the company was originally established in 1927, more than 189,000 Cessna airplanes have been delivered to nearly every country in the world. The global fleet of almost 5,000 Citations is the largest fleet of business jets in the world. More information about Cessna Aircraft Company is available at www.cessna.com.

Note from Lizzy:

Which one of my pilot friends wants to stick thier necks out and buy one of these? You won't eat for the next three years, but you will be able to fly the latest gadget from Cessna!

From The Editor

2007-07-23T09:52:00.000-04:00

User Fees: Be heard! Here’s how.

By Jeff Berlin

Last summer, I flew a factory-fresh TBM 850 from the Socata factory in Tarbes, France, to White Plains Airport just north of New York City. That flight had me and Christian Briand, Socata’s chief pilot, hopscotching across the North Atlantic from our departure point in southwest France to New York with intermediate stops in Wick, Scotland; Reykjavik, Iceland; Sondre Stromfjord, Greenland; Goose Bay, Labrador, Canada; and Bangor, Maine. It was quite a flight—and after attending a forum on user fees last week at the Aircraft Electronics Association show in Reno, Nev., I reflected again on that transatlantic flight, but instead of reminiscing about how beautiful the luminescent turquoise icebergs were as we sailed into Greenland, or how supremely otherworldly the craggy and densely colored mountains of Iceland appeared as we descended toward Reykjavik, I thought about how much it must have cost for the rather involved ATC services we required to make such a flight. The image I get is like this—I’m sitting in a yellow cab in stop-and-go New York City traffic. We’re not moving, and I’m watching the meter click higher and higher. I’m running late, and the money’s flying out of my pocket.

An ex of mine used to say, when something wasn’t quite right, “You know, it’s not all rainbows and butterflies…” Well, right now, when I think about the reality of user fees looming like a dense marine layer rolling over a sunny, coastal airport, and the stifling effect it’ll have on much recreational and business flying, it’s surely not the puppies and ice cream (tailwinds and low fuel flows?) that the legacy airlines and FAA would like us to believe.

The reality, according to the alphabet groups that advocate for general aviation, is that user fees, also known as the Next Generation Air Transportation System Financing Reform Act of 2007, is a tax shift onto general aviation and not the modernization bill that they’re portraying it as.

Word is, according to NBAA and GAMA, that if this plan is ratified, FAA funding will be cut by $600 million in 2008. This FAA plan diverts money that could be invested in ATC modernization and runway and control-tower construction, and shifts it into fee assessment and collection—it funnels money that can actually improve infrastructure over to bureaucracy. This bill authorizes the FAA to go up to $5 billion in debt starting in 2013, and nowhere does this FAA proposal detail the technologies, timelines or costs of the next phase of modernization.

On that TBM flight, Christian and I spoke to weather briefers and filed IFR flight plans. We flew thousands of miles along airways under positive ATC control, and shot approaches to runways in Wick, Reykjavik and Sondre Stromfjord. And as we approached the New York area, I cancelled IFR and requested with center the Hudson corridor and then the La Guardia Transition at 1,500 feet. It’s one of my favorite ways to see the city. Bumping down and up the Hudson River corridor, we trundled by the Empire State Building and Ground Zero, and then cut east across Central Park and flew over the city, over La Guardia, and then, once past the Throgs Neck Bridge, we turned north toward White Plains.

Remember that meter visual I drew a bit earlier? Well, I can only imagine the disincentive many pilots will feel each time they might have the inclination to key the mic and make a request with ATC like the one I did for the above routing. If, like in Europe, a briefing costs X, a departure from an airport costs Y and VFR flight-following or ATC services for an IFR flight costs Z, will pilots opt to watch the Weather Channel, hold their fingers to the wind, look around, call that a briefing, and then say, “Yep, we’re good to go”? To save the few bucks that will be incurred under this plan, some undoubtedly will. Will some pilots opt to try to scud run below an overcast to save the ATC service cost of an instrument approach? I bet some will.

And then there’s the proposed increase in the tax on avgas; from about 20 cents a gallon to 70 cents. I shudder to think what this will mean to those who operate light-piston twins. And no matter what airplane one flies, that $100 hamburger at your local greasy spoon will inflate to a price commensurate with that of the Kobe burger with caviar and truffles at the 21 Club—we’ll be flying across the county for the hundreds-of-dollars hamburger. Or more likely, we’ll be flying much less, like in Australia, which has seen a 28% decline in general aviation activity in the past 20 years since their “user pays” system was put in place. I’d hate to see this happen here.

We live in a representative republic—exercise your right to be heard. Call or write your congressman and senators. Let them know this plan isn’t a good one, and if they want your vote, they’ll vote against this bill.

1979 Grumman American AA5b Tiger

2007-07-22T19:01:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Base/used price:
$61,000 (1979)

Engine make/model:
Lycoming O-360-A4K

TBO (hrs.):
2000

Horsepower@altitude:
180@SL

Fuel type:
100/100LL

Propeller type:
FP/2-blade

Landing gear type:
Tri./Fixed

Max ramp weight (lbs.):
2400

Gross weight (lbs.):
2400

Landing weight (lbs.):
2400

Empty weight, std. (lbs.):
1360

Useful load, std. (lbs.):
1040

Useful fuel, std. (gals.):
51

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.):
734

Wingspan:
31 ft. 6 in.

Overall length:
22 ft.

Height:
8 ft.

Wing area (sq. ft.):
140

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.):
17.1

Power loading (lbs./hp):
13.3

Seating capacity:
4

Cabin width (in.):
41

Cabin height (in.):
48

PERFORMANCE

CRUISE SPEED, 75% power (kts):
139

FUEL CONSUMPTION, 75% power (gph):
9.8*

MAX RANGE, 75% power (nm):
500

Vso (kts.):
53

Best rate of climb, SL (fpm.):
850

Service ceiling (ft.):
13,800

Takeoff ground roll (ft.):
865

Takeoff over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.):
1550

Landing ground roll (ft.):
410

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.):
1120

Diamond Twin Star: 21st Century Multi

2007-07-21T14:34:00.001-04:00

Diamond Aircraft, the world’s third-largest manufacturer of GA, fixed-wing aircraft, is betting that the diesel-powered Twin Star will be the multi trainer of the future

By Bill Cox

Photography By Jessica Ambats

Perched in the catbird seat of Jerry Barto’s Diamond Twin Star, 11,500 feet above Palm Springs, I can’t help reflecting that this truly is a new-generation airplane. Calling any flying machine 21st century has a nice ring to it, but the DA42 truly deserves that accolade. From concept to power to configuration, it has about as much similarity to the old light/light twins as does a new Infiniti G35 to a ’57 Chevy.

Using max cruise power, my flying Infiniti is tripping along at three times the freeway speed; meanwhile, it’s sipping a mere 12 gph total, surprising economy for a twin (and not bad for a single, as well). While Diamond Aircraft didn’t conceive the Twin Star design primarily as a cross-country machine, the airplane is capable of range well beyond the province of most standard singles and twins.

As if to prove the point, one Diamond pilot demonstrated exactly what the Twin Star was capable of during his return flight from Oshkosh AirVenture to Wiener Neustadt, Austria, in August 2004. The pilot supplemented the airplane’s 76-gallon wing tanks with a 26-gallon ferry tank and flew 1,900 nm from St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada, to Porto, Portugal, in 12.5 hours, using 42% power. The Twin Star burned only 72 gallons of jet fuel, averaging a mere 2.85 gals./engine/hr. for the trip, meanwhile clocking a groundspeed of 152 knots.

Admittedly, the Diamond pilot had help from average 30-knot tailwinds, but the flight was an excellent example of what’s possible with the Twin Star’s remarkably efficient, Thielert, diesel engines. The eastbound ferry flight represented the first nonstop Atlantic crossing by a diesel-powered aircraft.

If economical cross-country travel is one of the Twin Star’s major talents, it was only one of the airplane’s original missions. The Austrian company foresaw a large market for a light/light multi, and that’s not a surprise, considering the relative dearth of new minimum multis in the last quarter-century. New light twins temporarily disappeared from general aviation with the demise of the Duchess in 1982.

Prior to that time, there had been a half-dozen attempts to market entry-level twins, only one of which (the Piper Seminole) was modestly successful. Even the Seminole was discontinued in 1982, then revived from 1989 to 1991, and finally brought back into continuous production in 1995.

Now, Diamond has a whole new take on the light/light-multi formula, offering an innovative, turbo-diesel-powered, FADEC-controlled, multi-engine trainer with all the advantages of the mini twins, plus a larger cabin, better range and significantly simplified operating systems.

Considering the source, the choice of a diesel powerplant was only logical. While German engineer Rudolf Diesel’s late-19th-century engines are among the world’s oldest form of mechanical propulsion, and have been employed sparingly on military airplanes and dirigibles since the 1920s, they’re a relatively new phenomenon in general aviation. SMA of France and Thielert of Germany have been the pioneers in aircraft diesel development for the little guy.

In fact, the Thielert 1.7 Centurion turbo-diesel is based on an automotive engine design by DaimlerChrysler. It’s extremely similar to a mill used by Mercedes in one of its diesel automobiles, though geared down in the aviation application from 3,900 engine rpm to 2,300 prop rpm. Diamond Aircraft currently offers two Thielert, diesel-powered airplanes: the dedicated diesel Twin Star and the single-engine Star with your choice of a conventional avgas or diesel mill. The Twin Star was originally slated for Thielerts, with Lycomings as an option, but the diesel version has been so successful, Diamond dropped plans for the avgas model.

So why would anyone want a diesel-powered airplane in the first place? One reason is the aforementioned efficiency. Most avgas engines score a specific fuel consumption (SFC) of about 0.44 lbs./hp/hr. The Thielert 1.7 Centurion manages an SFC of more like 0.36 lbs./hp/hr., 20% better. Obviously, diesels can legally burn road diesel, but you’re not liable to find that at most airports, so the alternative is Jet A1, still usually less expensive than avgas and, perhaps equally important, almost universally available at all but the smallest strips.

Avgas is rapidly disappearing at many international destinations. Back in the early ’90s, I delivered a primo Cessna 421C to Subic Bay, Philippines, for a hospital management company. Two years later, the company called and said avgas was becoming so scarce in much of the Far East, they’d been forced to replace the Golden Eagle with a King Air C90. I picked up the 421 in Manila and returned it to the United States by way of Guam, Majuro and Honolulu. (Coincidentally, I had to have avgas shipped in to Majuro, as the airport no longer offers anything except Jet A1.)

The reduced hourly cost of operating a diesel is one reason the type has been so eagerly embraced overseas where avgas has long cost $5 per gallon or more. Jet fuel often sells for as much as $1 per gallon less. The bottom line is a dramatic savings for operators of airplanes that burn jet fuel.

If there’s any bad news, it may be that the American FAA has dictated that the current Mercedes-built Thielert 1.7 Centurion engines must be replaced after only 1,000 hours. On the plus side, the all-Thielert-manufactured 2.0 engines that will supplant the 1.7 will be rated for 2,400 hours or 12 years, whichever comes first. Robert Stewart, of Diamond dealer U.S. Aero in Long Beach, Calif., says the new engines will likely sell for $24,500 in today’s dollars, but that’s for a firewall-forward new powerplant, and it’s prorated to allow for the 1,000 hours already flown. In other words, the owner will pay more like $12,000 per engine. Multiply that by two, and it’s about what you’d pay for a single factory overhaul on an IO-360 Lycoming.

If you learned to fly twins in a comparative antique, such as a Travel Air or Apache, as I did, the Twin Star will come as a revelation. These days, Diamond’s glass is more than half full, and those who allege there’s been no innovation in general aviation need only take a ride in a Twin Star to understand the error of their position.

Take FADEC, for instance. Full Authority Digital Engine Control regulates every parameter of engine operation except manifold pressure, expressed as percent of horsepower on the Twin Star. From startup to shutdown, FADEC samples air temperature, atmospheric pressure, humidity and throttle position to manage electronic fuel injection, rpm, mixture and timing, and deliver optimum performance and fuel efficiency for any conditions through a single lever for each engine.

Whether you’re flying a max gross takeoff out of Leadville, Colo. (elevation 9,927 feet MSL), or merely cruising at 6,500 feet over Cape Cod, the Engine Control Unit reads the engine environment, optimizes power and fuel burn, turns the electric fuel pump on and off as necessary, regulates ignition timing and minimizes the possibility of out-of-limit cylinder and exhaust gas temperatures. In short, FADEC diagnoses and automates all engine functions.

This simplifies the pilot’s job and allows him or her to concentrate on navigation, communication and simply enjoying the trip. The standard avionics suite for the Twin Star is the Garmin G1000–integrated, two-screen, flat-panel display. Once you learn the operating principles, the G1000 automates communication and navigation functions nearly as much as FADEC does engine operation.

The bottom line is simplicity that initially threatened one of the Twin Star’s primary missions. The FAA originally questioned whether FADEC’s automation and the lack of prop and mixture controls compromised the airplane’s ability to train pilots for the multi-engine rating. The question was whether the airplane was truly a “complex” design, since the props weren’t traditionally controllable. Eventually, the FAA concluded that the props were controllable, even if controlling them required only moving the throttle. In the event of a failure, the pilot still needed to identify the sick engine and shut it down, feathering the prop, even if that process was as simple as flipping a single switch.

Indeed, single-engine operation is about as uncomplicated as it can be without incorporating an auto-feather system. During the air-to-air formation session that produced Jessica Ambats’ photos, I shut down the left engine and chased the Cessna Skylane photo ship around the clouds above Catalina Island with the left prop caged. The shutdown and restart process consisted of merely turning off the appropriate ECU, then switching it back on when it was time to restart. Uncommanded yaw was mild, and the Twin Star remained docile while in single-engine formation.

Whatever the mission, Diamond configured the DA42 to offer super-simple operation, a large, comfortable cabin and something no other manufacturer has—a back door. Both the single-engine Star and Twin Star feature a fold-up door at aft left, allowing independent access to the rear two seats. Pilot and copilot board through an overhead hatch that hinges at the front and rotates up and forward. The cabin measures 46 inches across, nearly as wide as a cabin-class Piper Navajo.

Standard fuel is 50 gallons, but practically everyone opts for the long-range, 76-gallon tanks. Climb is excellent; the turbos’ critical altitude is 8,000 feet, so as long as your body can take it, there’s no reason not to fly at 10,000 to 12,500 feet on practically every flight. Incidentally, single-engine service ceiling is 10,000 feet.

When level at 12,500 feet with 80% power dialed in, you can expect about a 160-knot cruise speed on 12.5 gph. Extrapolate that over five hours, and you could reasonably expect to transit 800 nm at one sitting. If you have the inclination and the time, you can pull back to 50%, endure for more like 9.5 hours and range out nearly 1,200 nautical miles.

At this writing, Twin Stars are fully assembled and certified in Austria, then disassembled and shipped to Diamond’s London, Ontario, Canada, facility where they’re reassembled and ferried to the various North American dealers. Within a year, the Canadian plant will begin producing its own Twin Stars.

Current base price of the Twin Star is $527,313, including FADEC and the G1000. TKS known icing and a number of other options can elevate that figure well above $550,000. Air-conditioning, the ultimate luxury, is expected to be available sometime in 2008.

Initial sales of the Twin Star have been encouraging. Lufthansa has ordered 40 for its European training facility and Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona, Fla., has contracted for 10 more, and current deliveries and orders total more than 700.

Since designers began mounting a second engine on airplanes in search of redundancy, the industry has struggled with the problem of asymmetric thrust and twin-engine safety. The Diamond Twin Star doesn’t totally solve the problem, but its unusual combination of automatic systems and easy handling may make it one of the simplest—and safest—twins in the sky.

Flight Level Fliers

2007-07-20T09:11:00.000-04:00

How to stay safe at high altitudes

By Scott Perdue

We live in the best of times and the worst of times. Imagine flying with glass panels that allow you to visualize terrain, position, weather and traffic all at the same time. Fly coast-to-coast with only a nod to weather. Anytime, anywhere, faster than ever before.

Now with the Mooney Acclaim, the Columbia 400 and the Turbo Cirrus, the flight levels—normally reserved for more complex airplanes—are within reach of single-engine pilots. These and other such unpressurized, turbocharged airplanes are capable of leaping large portions of the continental United States in single bounds, all with the latest glass panels. The promise of speed and comfort and the elimination of long lines and wait times at large airports have arrived just as fuel prices have started to pinch us in the pocket book.

Of course, flying in the flight levels isn’t new, even for general aviation airplanes. Two major issues—engine performance and pilot capacity to survive at high altitudes—remain perennial problems. Until recently, these issues have restricted flight levels to the domain of pressurized twins.

To compensate for the drop in engine performance that occurs with increased altitude, engineers began developing various versions of the supercharger in the 1930s, and turbocharged designs became somewhat common in general aviation in the 1960s. Using such a supercharged engine, Howard Hughes set a coast-to-coast speed record of seven hours and 28 minutes in 1937.

Pilots became aware of oxygen problems and began using supplemental oxygen as early as 1913; the pipe-stems WWI aviators held in their mouths were common until the 1920s. Oxygen masks, continuous flow and pressure breathing were the watchwords for high-altitude survival. The vast majority of general aviation, however, remains well below oxygen altitudes; for most of us it’s a situation of “better safe than sorry.” Hypoxia is a killer that sidles up to you slowly and with little warning. With the introduction of new technology and designs, however, piston aircraft in the flight levels are about to become more commonplace.

Many issues must be overcome on the road to making the flight levels widely accessible to general aviation. Engine performance has always been a limiting factor, and turbocharging the typical GA engine has had less than desirable success in terms of longevity. Generally speaking, an imperfect understanding of heat transfer has produced turbocharged engines that run hot and require significant maintenance more often than normally aspirated engines. Reliability issues have impeded a wider acceptance of turbocharging.

Fairly recently, the advent of the turbonormalizer has changed all this. A turbocharger uses exhaust gases to spin a turbine, which in turn compresses the intake air that’s being fed to the engine. The compressed air allows the engine to produce rated horsepower at higher altitudes. A turbonormalizer, known as a TN system, compresses the air in a similar fashion, but limits the compression to sea-level pressure. Unlike a standard turbocharger, which compresses air 12% to 40% higher than sea level, the TN introduces no extra stress on the engine beyond that experienced in normal operations.

Two of the three new entries in the flight-level race use a TN system. The Mooney Acclaim utilizes a twin-turbo TN system developed by Teledyne on its 280 hp IO-550G engine. It’s capable of 237 KTAS at 25,000 feet. The Cirrus SR22 uses a twin turbonormalizer design developed by Tornado Alley Turbo on its 310 hp IO-550N, which pushes the Cirrus to 211 knots. Columbia’s 400 uses a twin-turbo system in the standard 310 hp TIO-550C engine to achieve 235 knots at altitude.

Engine design, technology and management techniques have eased flight-level propulsion problems and are no longer primary concerns. For the pilot and passengers, however, high-altitude flight still requires close attention to several physiological details. The most important detail hinges on the ability to stay awake and function. Simply put: it requires supplemental oxygen.

Just what is supplemental oxygen and why do we need it anyway? As aviators, we’re familiar with the fact that the atmosphere becomes less dense with altitude. What’s less widely known is that, as the pressure falls off, the human body is less efficient at extracting oxygen and transporting it. The partial pressure of oxygen at sea level is 159 mmHG; at 19,000 feet, that drops to 70 mmHG. Oxygen is still approximately 21% of the atmosphere, but our body’s ability to transport it across the alveoli in the lungs and transport it to the cells drops significantly.

Without enough oxygen, we experience hypoxia, which shows it’s hand with symptoms like confusion, vertigo, heat flashes, tingling fingers, headache, unconsciousness and even death. None of these things make flying an airplane easier. We need extra, supplemental oxygen in order to function, much less survive, in the less-dense upper air.

The symptoms and onset of hypoxia differ from person to person, and a trip to a high-altitude pressure chamber is a good way to figure out what your personal symptoms are—not to mention a fun and safe way to see the silly things you might do when hypoxic. As a rule of thumb, there are some numbers—commonly referred to as “time of useful consciousness” (TUC)—that we can hang our hats on as a guide to how long we can functionally stay awake at higher altitudes.

Without supplemental oxygen, the average person at rest will experience hypoxia symptoms at the following time periods:

Altitude (ft.) TUC

18,000 20–30 minutes

22,000 10 minutes

25,000 3–5 minutes

30,000 1–2 minutes

35,000 30–60 seconds

40,000 15–20 seconds

From the chart, you can see why the FAA advises, as a rule of thumb, against more than 30 minutes at high altitudes without supplemental oxygen. Of course, we can trust our friendly government agency to chart our path through the dangerous shoals of oxygen use. If you operate between the altitudes of 12,500 and 14,000 feet for more than 30 minutes, the crewmembers must use oxygen. Above 14,000 feet, crewmembers must use oxygen the entire time, and passengers must use oxygen above 15,000 feet.

Some airplanes have oxygen systems installed, or you can use portable units. There are several different systems and delivery methods available. The simplest are the continuous-flow models that regulate oxygen flow at a constant rate. This system is the cheapest and also the most wasteful. Manually adjusted flow systems use the same principle, but allow the user to regulate the flow based on a graduated scale that’s dependent on altitude. Automatic systems use an aneroid barometer to adjust the oxygen flow rate. There are more modern systems that regulate the flow based on a combination of altitude requirements and user demand. These systems are the most efficient and also the most expensive.

Two basic delivery methods—a mask or a cannula—get the oxygen from the bottle to the user. Masks generally fit over the user’s mouth and nose; they mix oxygen with exhaled air, but for some, the fit can be uncomfortable. A mask is required above 18,000 feet. A cannula, which injects oxygen directly into the users nostrils, is the most efficient delivery method and is commonly found in hospitals. Whatever delivery method is used—pipe-stem, mask or cannula—the idea is to keep the oxygen-saturation levels in your blood at near normal levels. A normal value is 97% to 99% oxygen saturation.

Four nominal types of oxygen are commercially available: aviation, medical, welding and research. In the “old days,” the specification for oxygen allowed for different levels of water vapor, impurities and humidity. Oxygen was extracted from the atmosphere using various filters to remove water, particles and other gases. Welding gas had loose requirements, while medical oxygen required purity and some moisture to prevent dehydration. Aviator’s oxygen requirements were the most stringent because an aviator couldn’t afford to have an oxygen line freeze up because of excessive concentrations of water vapor. Today, all oxygen is manufactured the same way. Ambient air is filtered and then chilled to the point where the liquid nitrogen and oxygen can be separated. All oxygen is pure and moisture free. In fact, nowadays, welding oxygen has the most stringent purity requirements to meet modern process techniques.

Breathing isn’t the only physiological issue that comes into play during high-altitude flight in unpressurized airplanes. Nitrogen comprises 78% of the earth’s atmosphere, and it’s naturally found in our bloodstream consistent with pressure. Decompression sickness, or aeroembolism, is an affliction known to affect divers as “the bends.” You can experiment yourself with the bends by shaking a soda bottle and then opening it, the carbon dioxide will come out of solution very quickly, a similar process can happen with your body. Not a good thing at cruise altitude.

Pilots and passengers who climb to high altitudes quickly can also experience the bends. If the body experiences a rapid reduction in pressure, the nitrogen absorbed in the blood and tissue recombines into gas before the body has a chance to exhale it through the lungs. These bubbles create a painful sensation throughout the body that causes itchy skin, joint pain, paralysis and, in the worst cases, death. The FARs limit when we can go flying after scuba diving for just this reason, but decompression sickness can affect flyers who climb at a rate as slow as 2,000 fpm. Prebreathing pure oxygen, or climbing at a slower rate, will prevent the outgassing of nitrogen into the body. Other physiological aspects of high-altitude flight can affect us, but the good news is that these all come under the heading of uncomfortable and not life threatening.

Flying at high altitudes provides undeniable advantages: you get above the majority of the weather, find smooth, cool air and take advantage of significant winds. With education and preparation, any pilot can achieve flight in the flight levels. Of course, it helps to have an Acclaim, a Columbia or a Turbo Cirrus.

I Need A Price Check On Runway 6, Please

2007-07-19T06:17:00.000-04:00

User fees have the potential to significantly change the way we fly.

By Harry Daniels, CPA, CFP, PFS

On February 5, 2007, President Bush released his 2008 fiscal year budget. Fears of how the budget would affect aviation came to fruition with a proposed budget cut of $1 billion off of the present funding level of $14.3 billion. A week later, the government declared that they’d be looking for a closer matching of costs to benefits; additionally, they recommended increases in the fuel tax and the implementation of several user fees. To make matters worse, if the budget goes through as presented, general aviation will be at war with commercial aviation about who and how much each side will have to pay for the right and privilege to fly. And the clock is tickling—funding for the FAA expires on September 30, 2007.

At stake is the cost to run a branch of the government, the FAA, which has approximately 14,500 air traffic controllers watching over almost 3,400 airports in 316 ATC facilities throughout the United States. As a side note, our ATC force is beginning to age. By the year 2015, approximately 75% of the controllers will be eligible for retirement. This creates a demand for 11,500 new hires over the next 10 years, which equates to an average of 1,150 new jobs per year. If a career as an air traffic controller is in your blood, now is a good time to submit your employment application.

The proposed 2008 federal budget has the potential to stymie general aviation with expenses and fees in much the same way the issue of product liability affected aviation in the 1980s and 1990s. If you remember, aircraft manufacturers pretty much ceased to produce single-engine aircraft because of the exorbitant product liability insurance costs that were tacked on to the cost of producing an airplane. So, we went through a period of several years when we were flying around in airplanes that were beginning to age, and there were no replacement airplanes on the production line.

Presently, the FAA gets funding from two sources: excise taxes from aviation taxpayers and a general fund that’s supported by all taxpayers. President Bush is expecting the users of aviation services to pay for the cost of those services. But just who are the users of aviation services? We’d all agree that pilots are users. Commercial passengers are users. But what about the economic impact to a community in the form of businesses and jobs that are generated by the aviation industry? If you remove pilots from the equation, then you’ll rapidly remove aviation from the community.

The FAA projections of this budget indicate that piston-engine pilots will see a tax increase of $100 million, or a 344% increase. Turbine aircraft are projected to see a tax increase of $868 million, or a 333% increase.

Fuel taxes are being targeted as an additional source of funds. Under the proposal, the current tax of 19 or 22 cents per gallon would be raised to more than 70 cents per gallon. This doesn’t sound like much—only 50 cents a gallon—until you start computing the gallons consumed on an hourly basis. Keep in mind that the average GA flight is between one and two hours. Then you have to get back home. Businesses will reflect this extra cost of doing business in the price of their products. To me, this sounds like the inflation that the government says it wants to keep in check.

But what about nonbusiness pilots who fly for pleasure? Many of these pilots may be wealthy, by someone’s standard, but there are other pilots with “normal” levels of income who spend their disposable income on flying. That $100 hamburger is going to cost a whole lot more. These pilots are the heart and soul of general aviation. They’re the pilots who generate an economic impact to their community by using aviation goods and services provided by local aviation businesses.

The proposed 2008 budget doesn’t stop with just increasing the fuel taxes. When you cross into Class B airspace, what’s the first thing that happens? You link up with a controller. Under the proposed budget, a user fee for this service will be charged to the pilot. How it will be charged and how it will be collected is anybody’s guess at this moment. And that’s a problem with the proposed budget. Nobody has given us an answer as to who will determine fees on certain services and how those fees will be collected.

User fees could be charged to the pilot when the FAA issues a private-pilot certificate. Registering your aircraft with the FAA would also be a service for which the FAA could charge a user fee. Preflight services and landing fees are other targeted areas that would likely be provided for a charge.

When you look at how much other countries charge pilots for these services, U.S. pilots have had a nice deal. Some countries even charge for the administration of the private written exam. But I’m not sure how long this advantage will last.

These are all fees that could potentially meet the goal of revenue neutrality for the budget, along with the excise taxes charged to passengers flying on commercial airlines. I once set up a 19-day business trip. During those 19 days, I went from Orlando to New York to Brussels to Madrid to Singapore to Sydney to San Francisco and back home to Orlando. The cost of the flight itself was just under $10,000. The excise taxes were another $350 or 3.5%. Who’s paying this excise tax? Is it the airlines or is it me? The bottom line is it’s me. I wrote the check. All the airline did was collect the tax and remit my money to the government. Who knows how much my excise tax will increase if the proposed budget passes. These numbers aren’t known at this time.

This is where the airlines take exception with GA pilots. The airlines are trying to hold passenger ticket prices as low as possible to maintain a competitive advantage. In their view, an increase in passenger excise taxes gives the appearance of an increase in the cost of a passenger ticket. But in reality, I have paid the excise tax even though it’s included in the cost of my ticket. The airline is only a collection agency for the excise tax. The airlines argue that they pay more than their share of the costs while receiving less than their proportionate share of the FAA services.

I think this 2008 budget is putting us on the verge of privatizing the FAA. If this happens, then who knows what the fees would be and what services will be charged. This has the potential to remove congressional oversight of the FAA. Whatever the user fees are and on what services they’ll be applied is to be determined by a “board.” With all of the lobbying that has been done by the airlines over the past year, I suspect that the airlines will be able to get several representatives on this “board.” Take the pie that’s composed of general and commercial aviation; if one side wins, then the other side must loose.

General aviation has its hands full with the budget battle with Congress. If the budget stays on course, general aviation may also have its hands full with a battle with the airlines that could last through 2017. If airlines are able to gain control of this board, then without congressional oversight, this board will be able to set fees and charges according to what they think is in everybody’s best interest.

Congress is saying that they need additional sources of revenue of the Next Generation Air Transportation System. This new system is needed to handle the growing demand for airspace. But as you read the transcripts, there are conflicting opinions on what those financial needs are. Some agencies are saying that the existing funding methods will be adequate, while others argue that there’s a shortfall of resources.

There are a lot of members in Congress who support the proposed budget. There’s also a lot of support in Congress for general aviation. Supporters of the proposed budget are holding to the premise of “pay for the service consumed.” If you use a service, then you should pay for it. The FAA shouldn’t be subsidized by the general-public taxpayer. If the general public takes a flight, then they should pay for their proportionate share of the expense in the fees and excise taxes. But again, who will determine these costs and how will they be allocated? That is a major concern for which I haven’t seen an answer.

Other members in Congress argue that all of America benefits from aviation, and if the costs exceed the revenue, then the general public should pay the difference. These members look at the economic benefit that the aviation industry generates. All companies have to operate at a profit to stay in business. Opponents of the proposed budget fear that the airlines will seek to divert their proportionate share of the expenses over to general aviation. We all know about airlines that have come and gone while trying to compete and remain profitable.

If you have an opinion regarding the 2008 proposed budget, I encourage you to contact your congressman/congresswoman or your senator. There will be a lot of debate over the budget during the next couple of months, but September 30, 2007, is the drop date. Otherwise, I’m afraid that none of us will be in the air without the services of the FAA.

Note from Lizzy: Congrats to a pilot friend of mine who recently passed his Instrument Rating with flying colors! We were praying!

From The Editor: The End Of Oil

2007-07-18T06:20:00.000-04:00

Bio-based alternatives are in the pipeline.

By Jeff Berlin

I first met Max Shauck, a mathematics professor at Baylor University in Waco, Texas, in 1993 at the Paris Air Show, or rather, Le Salon International de L’Aeronautiqe et de L’Espace, Paris Le Bourget. I was living in Paris at the time and just had to see the air show when it came to town.

The day I went to the show, the Paris sky dawned slate gray, swept with clouds textured as though they were applied with an Impressionist’s brush. As I wandered the grounds of Le Bourget airport and perused the abundance of military hardware, I hoped the weather would hold and I’d see some flying. Having been in Paris for months on end, I was starting to crave the United States just a bit. So when I saw a little red Pitts S2B sitting quietly on the flight-line, my heart skipped a beat as I felt a tinge of “home.” A few months before, I had done spin training in a Pitts just like this one with a terrific aerobatic instructor named Randy Gagne, who’s unfortunately no longer with us. This Pitts belonged to Max, I found out, and had “ETHANOL POWERED” emblazoned on its flank and wings in big blue letters. Max was preparing to fly a demonstration, during which he strung together a series of loops, rolls, torque rolls and hammerheads into an aerial, alcohol-fueled dance. (Kind of like me on Saturday nights.)

The next night, over steak frites and vin rouge with Max and his wife Grazia (who’s also a pilot) at a little bistro on the Ile St. Louis in the center of Paris, I learned what ethanol is, and why it was fueling his passion for flight and his little red Pitts. I also learned, for the first time, about how some forward thinkers are researching ways to keep our aircraft flying after 100 low lead stops flowing.

They have a saying in Saudi Arabia: “My father rode a camel. I drive a car. My son rides in a jet airplane. His son will ride a camel.”

Ever hear of the Hubbert Peak Theory? This well-accepted concept states that for any geographical area, rates of oil discovery, production and cumulative production will follow a bell-shaped curve, with a point of maximum production, after which, since the amount of oil under the ground is finite, production will decline due to depletion of resources.

In late March of this year, the Government Accounting Office (GAO) released a document called, “Crude Oil—Uncertainty about Future Oil Supply Makes it Important to Develop a Strategy for Addressing Peak and Decline in Oil Production,” (GAO-07-283). It states that oil production will peak sometime between now and 2040. That peak will be known as Hubbert’s Peak, and will signal the terminal decline of the world’s oil production. According to David Strahan, author of The Last Oil Shock, “There are currently 98 oil-producing countries in the world, of which 64 are thought to have passed their geologically imposed production peak, and of those, 60 are in terminal production decline.” This kind of makes ethanol, in the long term, seem like an interesting alternative. Nevertheless, for the short term, while we’re still burning petroleum-based 100LL, not only do we have to contend with the toxicity and endangered status of tetraethyl lead (TEL), we have to recognize the fact that, even for the cars or SUVs we drive, the days of dollar-a-gallon, $20 fill-ups, are gone. TEL’s tenuous future has also influenced certain airframe manufacturers to produce turbocharged piston aircraft that can be reverted to nonturbo, which will have an easier time burning an unleaded petrol or alternative bio-based fuel.

So while environmental concerns and global warming are concurrently of paramount import, our voracious appetite for petroleum and petroleum-based products also must be staunched. I don’t expect to see hybrid- or hydrogen-engined aircraft anytime soon, but we as a community do need to start thinking about what we’ll be filling our wings with in the near or not-too-distant future.

In Brazil, there are more planes powered by sugarcane-based hydrous ethanol than anywhere in the world. Brazil is, by far, the world’s largest sugarcane producer, so it’s extraordinarily efficient and practical that an Embraer-built agricultural aircraft, the Ipanema, is thusly powered. And in Brazil, it’s not just the airplanes that are ethanol powered: Brazil is energy independent and has no reliance on oil imports. The sugarcane ethanol they produce is up to seven times more potent than corn ethanol, and 3⁄4 of all new cars in Brazil are Flex Fuel cars. In the states, we produce more corn than anywhere else in the world, though here the market penetration of E85 (85% ethanol and 15% gasoline) is miniscule compared to Brazil, where they offer 100% ethanol and an ethanol/gasoline blend. Indeed, only about 500 of 170,000 U.S. gas stations carry E85, and the number of planes powered by ethanol can probably be counted on fingers and toes. As we discuss in this issue, what I like to call our “Green Issue,” the wider adaptation of renewable, bio-based alternative fuels, right here at home, can yield manifest benefits to the environment, and the larger geopolitical and “petropolitical” sphere. It’s time to break our addiction to oil. If we don’t, I can only imagine what our withdrawal symptoms will be.

You can start to do your part by balancing your carbon output when you fly. Surf over to www.carbonneutralplane.com and get green.

From The Editor:Humbled By A Hummingbird

2007-07-17T05:17:00.000-04:00

By Jeff Berlin

Just outside my living room window, I’ve got this flowering tree with gatherings of yellow, buttercup-like trumpets capping its branches. I don’t know what the tree’s called, but the Anna’s hummingbird flitting from branch to branch sure had its number. Never, ever, in my life, have I seen such precision in flight. We humans are rank amateurs, I thought, as I watched this cute little fire-red and mallard-green hummingbird hover from cup to cup, feeding on what must be a heavenly nectar. The way it would crisply retreat from one bloom and perfectly spear another reminded me of the precision we pilots strive for when flying an instrument approach. It also reminded me of a military fighter pulling up to a tanker for a midair top-off, but we’ll talk military in a second. What applies right now, to you and me, is how this little hummingbird sets the bar for precision flying.

In instrument flying, which is really just using whatever instruments the plane is equipped with (glass or steam, doesn’t matter) to position the plane at a certain point in space at a certain time (usually at a certain speed), precision is paramount. Now with WAAS-enabled flight-management systems, we pilots have another feather in our quiver for flying more precisely, both en route and on approach. John Ruley’s article, “WAAS UP?!,” on page 62, gives us the lowdown on getting low with WAAS. And I’ll tell you what, though I’ll never even approach the fancy flying of that cute and sprightly little hummingbird, I can always dream, and fly by WAAS—then, at least ATC will think I’m a pretty fancy flier.

The other day, Michael Dorn, who played the Klingon Worf in Star Trek: The Next Generation, and I flew to an airport north of the L.A. Basin to get out of the city and grab a bite. I had the Continental warp reactor in the Cirrus SR22 putting out max power, and we were averaging warp factor 185 over the ground. Michael loves speed, and though the ’22 is surely impressive for a piston single, the military iron that Michael has become accustomed to flying scoot along at speeds more akin to the Enterprise than the Cirrus. Michael wanted to see what the Cirrus could do. We were already doing it. “Aye Laddie, I’m pushing her as hard as I can, Captain. She can’t take any more,” I said in my best attempt at a Scottish brogue. A Klingon can be very persuasive, believe me, and once we arrived at the restaurant on the field at San Luis Obispo, I was relieved that the menu listed no Klingon dishes; I’m not a big fan of Durani lizard skins.

Meyers 200A

2007-07-16T05:43:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Used price (1959):
$69,000

Engine make/model:
Continental IO-520-A

TBO (hrs.):
1700

Horsepower@altitude:
285@SL

Fuel type:
100/100LL

Propeller type:
CS/2-blade

Landing gear type:
Tri./Retr.

Max ramp weight (lbs.):
3000

Gross weight (lbs.):
3000

Landing weight (lbs.):
3000

Empty weight, std. (lbs.):
1940

Useful load, std. (lbs.):
1060

Useful fuel, std. (gals.):
76

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.):
604

Wingspan:
30 ft. 6 in.

Overall length:
24 ft. 4 in.

Height:
7 ft. 4 in.

Wing area (sq. ft.):
161.5

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.):
18.6

Power loading (lbs./hp):
10.5

Seating capacity:
4

Cabin doors:
1

Cabin width (in.):
44

Cabin height (in.):
48

PERFORMANCE

Cruise speed, 75% power (kts.):
183

Fuel consumption, 75% power (gph):
15.5

Max range, 55% power (nm):
746

Vso (kts.):
47

Best rate of climb, SL (fpm):
1450

Service ceiling (ft.):
18,500

Takeoff ground roll (ft.):
900

Takeoff over 50-ft. obstacle (ft.):
1150

Landing ground roll (ft.):
850

Landing over 50 ft. obstacle (ft.):
1150

Cessna Turbo Stationair: Escalade For The Jeep Trail

2007-07-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

An acknowledged workhorse for nearly 40 years, the Cessna Stationair adds major avionics sophistication and uncommon comfort to its credentials.

By Bill Cox

Photos By Jessica Ambats

Somehow, the very idea of motoring along a mile above the tallest mountain in the contiguous 48 states in a Cessna Stationair seems almost a contradiction in terms, an oxymoron (a moron on oxygen). Most pilots simply don’t associate the tough 206 with operation in the flight levels. The airplane’s image is more utility station wagon than high-performance, turbocharged SUV.

Yet, here we are luxuriating at FL200, relaxing, warm and comfy, in spacious leather luxury, breathing oxygen, looking down on the spine of California’s Sierra Nevada and Mt. Whitney. We’re flying today with the help of one of the most sophisticated avionics suites in general aviation. The panel includes a two-tube, flat-panel Garmin G1000 Integrated Flight Deck for navigation, communication and monitoring engine/flight instruments, plus a Garmin GFC 700 Automatic Flight Control System, which helps keep the whole package pointed in the right direction.

Today, that direction is Reno, Nev., a quick day-tripper to check out the latest 2007 iteration of the Turbo Stationair. Owner Barry Brand of Oxnard, Calif., rides in the right seat to make certain we don’t break anything, and two friends complete the manifest in the middle seats. True airspeed at this height is 160 knots—not bad for a fully grossed utiliplane with wheels and struts hanging in the wind. If need be, we could ascend another mile to a dizzying 25,000 feet, not a big deal for a Piper Mirage or Mooney Acclaim, but hardly what you’d expect from a flying sport-truck.

To be honest, today’s basic 206 is little changed from the airplane Cessna revived in 1998, and that machine in turn was similar to the Stationair we all knew and loved a dozen years before that. In this case, Cessna got so much right the first time around that there was little need to reinvent the wing.

The Stationair was one of three models taken down off the shelf when Congress passed the 1993 General Aviation Revitalization Act. That bit of legislation established an 18-year statute of repose, which forbad lawsuits against manufacturers of aircraft older than 18. Cessna CEO Russ Meyer, true to his promise, announced that Cessna would restart the piston line. The Skyhawk was an obvious first choice for reintroduction, and the Skylane was another given. Interestingly, the third and most expensive model, the Stationair, was in equal or greater demand than the other two.

Power on the Cessna Turbo Stationair is provided by a Lycoming TIO-540-AJ1A, rated for 310 hp and recommended for overhaul at 2,000 hours. All six of Cessna’s post-1996 models now feature injected Lycoming engines with power ranging from 160 to 310 hp. At a gross weight of 3,600 pounds, the big Lycoming provides a power loading under 12 pounds per horsepower, an important consideration for a bush plane.

Cessna’s 206 has long been regarded as among the very best of the piston, heavy haulers. Fly to any of the world’s hinterlands—e.g. the tundra of Canada and Alaska, the African veldt, the jungles of Borneo—and 206s are among the most popular weapons of choice. While it’s true the old 180/185 easily wins the rough-/short-field competition, the Stationair’s large, double, aft cargo doors and huge cabin make it easy to load with bulky people or cargo. When the 206 is fitted with the big 8.00 x 6 tires, it can sneak into places where lesser machines would fear to roll a tread. (As if to verify the airplane’s appeal, the California Highway Patrol replaced its entire fleet of 185s a few years back with 17 new Turbo Stationairs.)

When the original line of Stationairs went out of production in 1986, after two decades of winning friends and influencing pilots, the existing fleet became some of the most in-demand airplanes on the planet. If someone wrecked a 206 after 1986, the airplane was nearly always rebuilt, as there were no replacements available, and few other models could do the Stationair’s job. Piper’s Saratoga, the modern version of the Cherokee Six, was capable competition, but it also went out of production in 1990, so switching to the low-wing Piper wasn’t an option. (The Saratogas were revived in 2004 as the Piper 6X and 6XT.)

Both the Stationair and the new Piper 6X are probably more popular outside the United States than here at home. Fly to the Far North or overseas on a regular basis, and you’ll see both types doing jobs that practically nothing else can, flying into short or unimproved strips or even operating totally off airport. The Stationair may have a slight edge over the Piper because of the former’s high wing, a feature that eases loading and makes the airplane more adaptable to nonairports in high brush. That’s one reason the value of Stationairs has remained strong. Nowadays, many early 206s, even those that have been flown hard and put away wet, demand as much as three times their new list prices.

Today’s test airplane is a fairly representative example of the new Turbo Stationairs coming off Cessna’s production line in Independence, Kans. The $514,500 base price includes all the goodies listed, plus terrain and obstacle mapping, Traffic Information Service, XM Weather provisions and Stormscope—virtually everything you’d need for pretty much year-round IFR operation. This airplane also includes floatplane provisions and the aforementioned oversized tires and wheel fairings, adding about $7,500 to the total.

Garmin’s revolutionary AHRS-based (Attitude Heading Reference System) GFC 700 autopilot is standard on the 2007 Stationair and Skylane, and it’s a major step forward for a general aviation autopilot. Garmin has incorporated a variety of features normally found only in high-end corporate jets and airliners. Autopilots have offered rate of climb and altitude preselect for decades, but the new Garmin features airspeed hold, an important benefit in the airline world where airplanes must maintain precise separation. Airspeed hold means you can lock in best- rate-of-climb speed or a predetermined cruise climb velocity.

The 700 also offers overspeed protection, pitch hold and coupled VNAV, so the pilot can now control every aspect of descent as well as climb and straight-and-level flight. When preloaded with the appropriate approach, the GFC 700 incorporates the ability to make automatic approaches and fly the published miss-and-accept vectors for another attempt. It can perform holding patterns, procedure turns and DME arcs. The autopilot is WAAS-enabled for vertical guidance, providing ILS-like cues on GPS approaches.

If there’s a catch, it may be that the new level of sophistication isn’t without a considerable level of complexity. Pilots new to both the G1000 Integrated Flight Deck and the GFC 700 Automatic Flight Control System will find the avionics far more of a technical challenge than the airplane itself. Pilots require at least several days of training to learn to program the new avionics systems.

Despite its add-on complexity, a Stationair is an inherently simple machine. Over an intermittent four decades of production, the type has earned a reputation as a utility airplane par excellence, but a 206 also serves well as a six-seat commuter. If hauling people isn’t necessarily the Stationair’s normal mission, the airplane does the job better than you’d imagine. The front cockpit is 44 inches wide, and because the cabin is essentially a tapered box, fully 42 inches of that width holds to the rear seats. That’s the same dimension as the front pit of a model 36 Bonanza, generally regarded as a paragon of comfort.

Incidentally, that rear seat has been modified in 2007 to fold down flush against the floor to make room for cargo. Previous models required that you remove the seat in order to transport bulky items. Now, you have the option of flying one way with all people and the other way with people and stuff or all stuff.

Despite every manufacturer’s best efforts, most aircraft wind up a little heavier than book. Four-seaters often can transport only two or three people, and six seaters are sometimes limited to four. Our test T206H was typical. Fully equipped empty weight was 2,423 pounds against a max ramp weight of 3,617 pounds. After all the math, the big Stationair wound up with a 655-pound payload, basically four folks’ worth. It’s important to remember, however, that Stationair missions are often more about flexibility than range, so downloading fuel by 30 to 40 gallons would still provide two hours of endurance and allow you to increase the paying pounds to nearly 900.

The Turbo Stationair is at its best as a freight elevator. The optional, belly-mounted, external cargo pod allows for carrying 300 pounds outside the aircraft, and the cabin will accommodate 127 cubic feet of whatever. Remove all seats except the pilot’s, and you can load large items through the aft cargo doors.

While Cessna’s most exotic piston single is obviously capable of doing what we did on the way to Reno, the turbocharged Stationair typically flies its missions at altitudes below 12,000 feet. The blower allows the airplane to operate in the mountains at tall density altitudes. Climb from sea level tops 1,000 fpm, but equally important, the T206 manages better than 800 fpm at 10,000 feet.

Utility airplanes often must possess unusual talents, and to that end, the 206 may be adapted in a number of ways for better speed, range and flexibility. Cessna offers a 16,000 BTU Keith air conditioner, Flint Aero extends the wings and installs a pair of 15-gallon fuel tanks to boost gross and range and improve high-altitude climb. Wipaire, best known for its line of amphibious floats, whittles out the right front cabin to accommodate a forward side door, not surprising since Wipaire also produces amphibious floats for the 206. You can also install flap gap seals from Knots 2U to improve speed, modify the airplane with Aerospace Systems TKS anti/deice system and mount floats by PK DeVore or Wipaire. (Perhaps the most extreme STC available is an upgrade to Rolls Royce turbine power with Soloy Corporation.)

Whatever the level of mods, the Stationair remains what it has always been, one of the best jack-of-all-trades airplanes in general aviation, willing to haul pretty much anything you can close the doors on to practically anywhere at just about any time. The 206 definitely isn’t the fastest or the most modern design, but for operators who need a comfortable, talented airplane that still must work for a living, Cessna’s durable Stationair can pay its own way.

Deciphering Accident Statistics

2007-07-14T21:59:00.000-04:00

By David Ison

The aviation industry sure loves its statistics—there’s an X% chance of this, and one aircraft is Y times safer than Z. But what if you were told that just about everything you’ve heard about aviation accident statistics isn’t true? Most pilots feel pretty good about the commonly published statistics claiming that all types of air travel are safer than driving. But if the numbers are presented in a certain way, general aviation flying can appear more dangerous than driving. Before you throw the magazine across the room and denounce such claims as ludicrous, let’s take a look at the facts.

Before you blindly believe the studies and the plethora of numbers associated with them, there are some things you should know and think about. It should be no surprise that aircraft manufacturers want to paint their aircraft in the most favorable light possible; after all, they’re trying to sell airplanes. And the media seems to chronically harp on the gloom and doom of flying. The point is, we have to be careful about the statistical games being played by people with different motivations. Statistics can and often are manipulated to make things look better or worse than they really are. For example, one study claimed that kids who weighed more were smarter. Wow. Maybe you should let them eat more fast food, right? Well, no. The truth behind this finding is that kids who are older (and, thus, have more years of education) weigh more. You’ve got to get the whole picture—don’t necessarily take things at face value. Such nonsense is probably what prompted British politician Ben Disraeli to note, “There are three kinds of lies: lies, lies and statistics.”

One big problem with comparing aviation accident statistics to driving accident statistics is that you’re really comparing apples to oranges. Aviation accident rates are normally shown as an amount per number of flight hours. According to the 2005 Nall Report, there were 7.2 GA accidents and 1.39 GA fatalities per 100,000 flight hours. But auto accident rates are based on miles, not hours. The current rate for motor vehicles is 1.3 deaths per 100 million vehicle miles. What if GA accident stats were presented in miles instead? Using an average aircraft speed of 130 mph and the estimated 23.1 million flight hours reported by the FAA in 2005, you’d be left with 16.3 deaths per 100 million vehicle miles. Not quite as flattering, huh?

Am I claiming that flying is dangerous? Of course not. We can look at yet another statistic, the chance of dying in a GA accident in 2005, which was about one in 613,000 while your chance on the road was one in 7,700. Which brings up the next point. If statistics don’t always tell the full story, as we’ve seen so far, how is a particular aircraft deemed “safe” or “unsafe”? Take, for example, the Cirrus. It’s gotten a bad rap from various media outlets while the company claims that it’s one of the safest airplanes in the sky. I’ve flown one, and it didn’t seem to be ornery at all. In fact, it flew better than many other airplanes I’ve flown. So what gives?

Perhaps the unfair comparison issue is cropping up yet again in the search for statistical analysis. While a discussion about airline fatality stats versus those in GA does come up, everyone realizes they’re two different ball games. Yet, is it fair to compare accident rates of aircraft that are designed to “go places” with those that mostly stick to training or even those that crop dust? The point is, to truly determine how safe an airplane is, you’ve got to compare it to aircraft doing the same kind of flying. Most people don’t want to purchase a more than 200-horsepower, 150-knot aircraft to do pattern work. They’d be more likely to travel, take the family on vacation or go on business trips.

Needless to say, the chances of getting into icing conditions, flying from VMC into IMC or falling victim to controlled flight into terrain are less likely in the pattern or practice area than while traveling cross-country. The point is, to really get a good idea about whether or not an aircraft is safe, it’s not enough just to look at raw GA numbers: You must consider the types and amounts of exposures a particular aircraft experiences. Even the Nall Report admits, “Meaningful comparisons are based on equal exposure to risk. However, this alone does not determine total risk. Experience, proficiency, equipment and flight conditions all have a safety impact. To compare different airplanes, pilots, types of operations, etc., we must first ‘level the playing field’ in terms of exposure to risk.”

There are several “traveling” aircraft—those primarily used to get places rather than around the pattern—that can be used as examples. The Cirrus (SR20 and 22), Bonanza B36, Columbia (300, 350 and 400) and Mooney M20R fit the bill. One way to compare aircraft is to look at how many accidents have occurred in relation to the number of aircraft built. The approximate accidents (from the NTSB database) per aircraft built are: Cirrus, 0.025; Bonanza, 0.087; Columbia, 0.005; Mooney, 0.037. While this data is interesting, it provides an incomplete picture.

What’s missing? First, each aircraft type has flown a different amount of total hours. Of each hour flown, individual operators may be conducting their flights under different scenarios, such as for business as opposed to for pleasure. Are certain airplanes more likely to encounter IMC? The aforementioned stats also neglect the fact that some aircraft have been taking to the air for many years while some are relatively new. It’s obvious that an older fleet is likely to cause pilots more problems than one coming off the factory line.

To make yet another point, how about we compare the “traveling” class with aircraft that don’t make a habit of flying coast-to-coast? The Piper PA28R, Cessna 182 and Diamond DA40 seem to fit this model. The approximate accidents per aircraft built are: Piper, 0.220; Cessna 182 (all years), 0.250; Cessna 182 (1997–2006), 0.026; Diamond, 0.009. I think these stats make a pretty good case that it’s critical to take such numbers with a grain of salt. The Piper and Cessna mentioned have had significantly higher exposure levels in terms of time and flight hours than the Diamond. Also note how the same Cessna model has different stats depending on the length of exposure (how many years they’ve been in service). So are Cessna 182s and Piper Arrows less safe than Diamond DA40s? Regardless of what those numbers look like, we can’t answer the question with the data on hand, i.e., we need more information.

So what does all this mean? Probably the most important point that can be taken away from this discussion is that airplanes are used differently; therefore, comparing one type to another or perhaps to generic GA statistics isn’t fair or useful practice. Certain airplanes give pilots the ability to fly at high altitudes, which increases the risk of unfavorable weather year-round. Considering that most GA pilots have little experience with high-altitude flight and its associated conditions, this type of exposure is of particular concern.

Many of the “traveling” aircraft allow pilots to fly at higher speeds. This requires increased situational awareness and planning, both of which have long been weak spots among pilots in general. Additionally, higher speeds increase the likelihood that the aircraft will actually be used to go places. And when pilots venture outside of the geography with which they’re most comfortable, they are exposed to unfamiliar weather systems and conditions. And don’t forget about the possibility of flying in and over exotic terrain, again creating a different kind of flight exposure.

And since “traveling” aircraft can actually cruise at decent speeds, they’re useful business and recreational travel tools. While this is usually a great thing, business meetings and vacation plans can often augment “get-there-itis” risks. Conceivably, “traveling” pilots could have a different type of philosophy on flying. Some may equate particular types of avionics or a particular horsepower to a certain level of invincibility. A pilot may be more likely to conduct a flight to a destination with lower minimums if he or she has a glass cockpit and autopilot. Or one may be more easily convinced to take a shortcut over mountainous terrain knowing that the aircraft’s service ceiling exceeds the highest peak. Truthfully, a close look at NTSB reports on accidents involving these aircraft types yields an interesting conclusion—pilots are still the primary cause of accidents.

Speaking of pilots, to make a fair statistical analysis, we must look at the types of pilots flying each make and model. According to Columbia aircraft, at least 80% of their customers fly more than 150 hours a year as compared to the 75% of all pilots who fly less than 150 hours per year. Another interesting stat is that 85% of Columbia owners have an instrument rating, but of pilots in general, only 43% can boast an instrument ticket. Do these facts have anything to do with Columbia’s excellent record? Probably. It just goes to show how important all the factors that are typically ignored in reports are key to making a reasonable determination about safety of flying and of individual aircraft.

Writer Rex Stout once said, “There are two kinds of statistics, the kind you look up and the kind you make up.” Hopefully this analysis has opened up your eyes so you can more readily spot suspicious data. So the next time someone claims that aircraft A is unsafe or flying under certain conditions is safe, take a hard look at the data. Was the comparison made between two peers under similar circumstances? Are there any factors that weren’t taken into consideration? If you can take just one thing away from this article, be sure that you don’t always believe the hype.

Blimp My Ride

2007-07-13T22:16:00.001-04:00

By Jessica Ambats

My foot pushes on the rudder pedal but nothing happens. I push harder. Still nothing. And so I stomp, hoping that the barn-door-sized rudder will finally budge. Like a large boat churning in open waters, the blimp enters a barely perceptible turn. It’s slow, but persistent, and so I step on the opposite rudder. Rather, I lift my body up and push with my entire weight on the opposite rudder. A long time passes before the blimp responds again.

We wander through an ocean of air, at the whim of the surrounding environment. The slightest updraft lifts the blimp, and I wrestle a giant wheel to the right of the pilot’s seat for elevator control and level flight. Again, it’s a physically demanding task, and sometimes it takes both of my untrained arms to have an effect on the 192-foot long and 202,700-cubic-foot airship.

Goodyear’s Spirit of America doesn’t have dual controls, so it’s a good thing that everything happens at a snail’s pace: cruise speed is 30 mph, and top speed is just 50 mph. Next to me in the seven-seat gondola, seasoned pilot Jon Conrad (with more than 6,000 hours in blimps) explains airship operations as we low-and-slow it through the Los Angeles Basin. Like a newly detailed car driving slowly around the block, we’re cruising to be seen. And we’re hard to miss: as night falls, more than 82,000 custom-made, high-brightness LEDs light up our left side.

En route to Santa Monica Airport, Jon takes the controls so he can demonstrate a low pass. Dives and climbs are at exaggerated angles of approximately 30 degrees, and I hold on to the seat (there are no seat belts). “Very nice; thank you!” beams the tower, and patrons of the on-field restaurant, Typhoon, gather on the deck to watch. At Whiteman Airport (15 nm away, but 35 minutes later), it’s my turn. While puttering along on final, and eventually short final, the runway strikes me as very narrow and we seem, well, relatively wide. “Are you sure about this?” I question Jon (visions of sideswiping the tower are unsettling). “How will other pilots in the pattern handle our slow speeds?” But he chuckles, “If you can’t see the blimp, then you shouldn’t be in the pattern.” After lots of rudder and wheel elevator, patience and anticipation, I’m exhausted but exhilarated after the world’s slowest fly-by.

“The blimp flies based on a hybrid of aerodynamics and aerostatics,” explains Jon. “As with a fixed-wing aircraft, we use aerodynamics to turn it and go up and down. But to maintain the shape of the blimp’s envelope, made from polyester fabric, we have a pressure system. Inside of that are two air chambers called ballonets that can be inflated or deflated as helium expands and contracts when the blimp rises and descends.” Powered by two 210 hp Continental IO-360 engines, the Goodyear blimp is equipped with custom-made, reversible-pusher Hartzell propellers. Empty weight is 12,840 pounds; when inflated with helium, however, the blimp weighs no more than 200 pounds.

To earn a blimp rating through Goodyear, applicants must be fixed-wing pilots with commercial, instrument and multi-engine ratings. A background in training is helpful, since each pilot will be required to train the next newcomer. But turnaround doesn’t happen often. “When I was hired, I was the first new pilot at the California base to be brought on in 31 years,” says Jon. “The previous pilot had to teach me how to fly. Because it only has single controls, it’s a trust-building exercise. The instructor has to be confident that the student isn’t going to make a bad decision and put the aircraft in harm.” Training can take up to a year, and may involve a whopping 500 hours of flight time. “It’s a lot of time because it’s a unique aircraft,” justifies Jon. “The only way to build experience is to actually go out and do it. There’s no flight simulator. You have to do all the training in the blimp, and every landing is completely different than the previous one.”

Because the blimp is extremely susceptible to atmospheric conditions, landings can be very difficult. “It’s a very simple aircraft, but becomes complicated when out in the weather. Anytime the wind changes, the blimp wants to change too. If there are clouds and then the sun comes out, the blimp becomes lighter or heavier—the static condition of the blimp changes based on the environment. You have to be a meteorologist to fly a blimp,” comments Jon. “Furthermore, you’re landing to a ground crew of 13 people—live human beings walking around an aircraft with two spinning propellers. They trust you to keep their safety in the forefront of your mind, and if the flight approach doesn’t look good, you’ll have to go around. Sometimes you make perfect landings and sometimes you have to go around.”

Our landing at the blimp base in Carson, Calif., was the last of the day, so the ground crew fastened the blimp onto a 32-foot mooring mast, where it overnights. Secured by a steel ball at its nose, the blimp is free to rotate 360 degrees should the wind shift. (Like a weather vane, the blimp will always point itself into the wind.)

Passenger flights are given to families of Goodyear clients such as Toyota, Ford and GM, and interacting with younger visitors is Jon’s favorite part of life as a blimp pilot. “Children may be scared and overwhelmed on the ground, but when you get them in the air, they turn into a different person and shake your hand. This one little girl grabbed my leg, gave me a hug and was so happy. I have yet to find another job where people get so excited—airline pilots certainly don’t go through that.”

In addition to passenger flights and high-visibility night-sign flights, the blimp is often used to film sporting events. “We circle the game over and over, but it never gets boring,” asserts Jon. “We’re very busy. We watch on monitors and have to pay attention to the director. Sometimes they want beauty shots, sometimes play-by-play. We need to be aware of who is winning and who is losing. We have to contend with ATC, our ground crew back at the base and public relations inside the truck parked at the game.”

But no matter where the blimp flies, the overriding purpose is the same: to spread goodwill and say “thanks.” Each year, more than 60 million Americans catch a glimpse of a Goodyear blimp. “We’re promoting Goodyear products while we fly,” says Jon. “It’s like someone giving you keys to a Porsche and telling you to go drive for three hours and show off.” Well, maybe not quite as fast.

Aviat 110 Monocoupe

2007-07-12T11:01:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Engine make/model:
AE IO-360-A1B6

Horsepower For Takeoff:
200

TBO:
1400

Fuel type:
100/100LL

Propeller type:
Hartzell two-blade

Landing gear type:
Fixed, conventional

Max ramp weight (lbs.):
1725

Gross weight (lbs.):
1725

Landing weight (lbs.):
1725

Std. empty weight (lbs.):
1150

Useful load - std. (lbs.):
575

Payload - full std. fuel (lbs.):
323

Usable fuel - std. (gals.):
40

Oil capacity (qts.):
8

Wingspan:
23 ft. 1 in.

Overall length:
19 ft. 10 in

Wing area (sq. ft.):
99

Wing loading (lbs./sq. ft.):
17.4 (normal), 16.4 (aerobatic)

Power loading (lbs./hp):
8.6

Seating capacity:
2

Cabin doors:
2

Cabin width (in.):
40

Cabin height (in.):
52

Baggage capacity (lbs.):
20

PERFORMANCE

Max level speed (knots):
191

Cruise speed (75% power) (knots):
161

Max range (w. reserve) (sm):
732

Fuel consumption (55% power) (gph):
8.4

Stall speed (flaps up) (kts.):
59

Best rate of climb (fpm):
1700

2005 AMERICAN CHAMPION HIGH COUNTRY

2007-07-11T09:21:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

New price:
$114,900

Engine make/model:
Superior Vantage O-360-A3A2

Horsepower@altitude (hp@ft.):
180@SL

Horsepower on takeoff (hp):
180

TBO (hrs.):
2000

Fuel type:
100 avgas/91-octane auto fuel

Propeller type/diameter (in.):
Sensenich FP/76

Landing gear type:
Fixed/Conv.

Max ramp weight (lbs):
1800

Max gross weight (lbs.):
1800

Landing weight (lbs.)
1800

Empty weight, std. (lbs.):
1250

Useful load, std. (lbs.):
550

Useful fuel, std. (gals.):
35

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.):
290

Wingspan (ft.):
34.5

Overall length (ft.):
22.1

Height (ft.):
7.7

Wing area (sq. ft.):
171.9

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.):
10.5

Power loading (lbs.hp):
10.0

Wheel size (in.):
8.00 x 6

Seating capacity:
2

Cabin doors:
1

Cabin width (in.):
30

Cabin height (in.):
47

PERFORMANCE

Cruise speed, 80% power, (kts.):
117

Fuel burn , 80% power (gph):
11

Best rate of climb, SL (fpm):
1350

Service ceiling (ft.):
17,000

Vso (kts.):
46

Takeoff ground roll (ft.):
370

Takeoff over 50-ft. obstacle (ft.)
695

Landing ground roll (ft.):
360

Landing over 50-ft. obstacle (ft.):
740

2006 Aviat Husky A-1B-200

2007-07-10T10:20:00.000-04:00

SPECIFICATIONS

Engine make/model:
Lycoming IO-360-A1D6

TBO (hrs.):
2000

Horsepower@altitude:
200@SL

Propeller type:
MTV-15-B/205-58

Airfoil:
Modified Clark Y

Landing gear type:
Fixed tailwheel

Gross weight (lbs.):
2000

Max landing weight (lbs.):
2000

Empty weight, std. (lbs.):
1320

Useful load, std. (lbs.):
680

Fuel capacity,std. (gals.):
52

Oil capacity (qts.):
8

Baggage capacity (cu.ft./lbs.):
50

Payload, full std. fuel (lbs.):
380

Wingspan:
35 ft. 6 in.

Overall length:
22 ft. 7 in.

Height:
7 ft. 5 in

Wing area (sq. ft.):
183

Wing loading (lbs./sq.ft.):
10.9

Power loading (lbs./hp):
10

Seating capacity:
2

Cabin height (in.):
48

Cabin width (in.):
27

PERFORMANCE

CRUISE SPEED, 55% power (mph/gps): 138

MAX RANGE (nm): 828