What a weekend.
Tailspin Tom offered us the opp to head up to CRQ and take a turn at a cherry 1968 Beech Debonair that has seen some tender loving care over the last 40 odd years. The hardest part about any new airplane is safely getting her started and configured at the hold short, but there really wasn’t much to it: Mixture full rich, prop flat, throttle cracked a half an inch and just a few moments on the fuel boost pump for to get her primed. She started on a couple three blades and after that it was find our way to the runway. Me on the left, Tailspin on the right, Chief Barnstormer Bronco (pictured below) a-snoring in the back.
Flaps up for take-off, and the six cylinder Continental IO-550 engine gave us a full 300 HP as we ran down the runway, right rudder nearly hitting the stops. An 80 KT climb out (for noise abatement) yielded an impossibly nose high attitude, even with three corn fed ‘Muricans in the machine, and none of your FAA 170 pound “standards” neither, more’s the pity. Once clear of the groundlings, 105 kts gave us a good combination of track made good, rate of climb and over the nose visibility.
The panel included a Garmin MX20 moving map, which after the austere gear we’ve had our mitts on these last several felt nearly like cheating. The Debonair – a transitional name between the V-tailed debbils and their conventional siblings – is a stately aircraft, with positive control movements required to place her in her lane. Gets up and goes though, with the throttle wide open. Goes 160 kts without breathing hard with 25″ of manifold pressure and the prop eased back to 2300 RPM. All that at about 13 GPH once leaned 50° below peak EGT. Yes, we were graced with a digital fuel control monitor.
A short hop to French Valley for two landings – the Debonair lands gracefully, if authoritatively, and there is a bit of cockpit bustle on the touch and go, upping the flaps and retrimming – the obligatory $100 cheeseburger (or in my case, the French Dip). Then off to Warner Springs, if only for the soaring that was in it. My last time there having been somewhat less congenial.
Tailspin has lately renewed his Certified Flight Instructor – Glider qualification, and your host was to be his initiate, like. We clambered into the frail contraption (itself entirely innocent of proper propulsion) and stewed a bit behind a Cessna Ag Truck afore giving the go-ahead signal. There was a mighty crosswind, and the aspect ratio of a glider is non-trivial, the which caused Tom to perform the take-off and the landing too. Your correspondent left to fly formation a couple hundred feet behind the laboring taildragger until the time came to cut the tow.
It’s not a trivial thing to fly unpowered formation in a hugely high aspect ratio machine behind a Cessna Ag Truck. Requiring as it does a delicate sense of rudder usage to oppose the adverse yaw and jockey into position. Too low and you get all bollixed up within the prop wash and become a drag on the tow pilot, who may cut you off in mere spite. Too high and the line goes slack. Forget about the ailerons. Eventually the time did come to zoom a bit, then race back down, slacken the tow rope and cut the bond that keeps you flying, like. To soar the thermals. Which proved elusive in the event.
Now you may have heard all the paeans to unpowered flight, soaring with the hawks, flitting among the updrafts, hearing nothing but the wind against the hull and so on. Flights of angels, etc. Your correspondent, keeping a game smile on his face all along, could not help but think he was willingly taking off in a configuration that would, in any other aircraft he had ever flown, constitute an à priori emergency of the very gravest nature and a fine reason to abort the flight. On account of the lack of power that was in it. Above the actual, unyielding turf. Sans parachute.
Having climbed to some 3000 feet above the airstrip, we cut our tow and went looking – fruitlessly as it turns out – for those lifties that would give us something for nothing. A bump here or a hiccup there, but the trend of things was that we were coming down, slowly – 42 MPH at max endure – but inevitably. Eventually we arced back around and Tom took the machine for the landing, coming down from what seemed like a space shuttle approach, it was that steep, to a grinding stop in the dirt alongside the runway. Happy, for our own part, to be whole in body and spirit.
There’s a very wide chasm between an FA-18 climbing out in full grunt and a glider coming down to what would otherwise be classified as a forced landing.
Perhaps it grows on you.
A short hop back from Warner Springs to Palomar, and a not entirely credible ILS approach to runway 24, chased as we were. Taxi clear, shut her down, put her away. Back on the bike for the trip down south.
Taken all in all, I’ve had worse Sundays.
Thank you..Daddy Lex..for getting us back on track..what an exciting ride that must have been..
“Your correspondent, keeping a game smile on his face all along, could not help but think he was willingly taking off in a configuration that would, in any other aircraft he had ever flown, constitute an à priori emergency of the very gravest nature and a fine reason to abort the flight. On account of the lack of power that was in it. Above the actual, unyielding turf. Sans parachute.”
Yeah, but it’s not like you would have actually wanted one of those, right?
Sounds like a great day. Thanks for sharing.
A warning to all you flyboys: Don’t take civvies for joyrides .
If you ever get the chance – try a winch launch in a glider (impressive climb out angle) — that will give you a whole ‘nuther perspective
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Done a little bit of gliding in my time – something about trundling along at 35 knots — and watching that piece of wool tapped to the nose for appropriate “rudder correction” during turns. Low tech enjoyment.
I’ve been wanting to try soaring. I guess it’s not all it’s cracked up to be?
I think it was just a bad day for it Josh, there was a wild wind whipping through the canyons, and the old heads tell me that spoils the thermals. Would have been more fun I think if we could have caught an updraft and circled up within in. Hope is not a strategy in a glider however, and mostly we just came down after the tow cut us loose.
Unnatural acts. Some worthy (leaving a perfectly good boat to breath underwater) some not so (concur on the soaring). Scariest one ever: taking a jigsaw to perfectly good, one week old automobile sheet metal, for to install an aftermarket sunroof. Still get a pit in the gut just thinking back on it . . .
Bad enough flying in something with engines, flaps and a pilot. 2 out of 3 gone? No thank you kindly.
Does sound like a good Sunday – for adrenaline junkies like you!
There’s something on your face. Oh, forgot, mandatory facial hair for retirees.
Getting thicker, too. Must be that Crossfit agreeing with you.
Don’t feel bad. You saw me last (’00 Tailhook, IIRC) at 180 or so, 235 now. Muscle weighs more, Starting Strength works.
Retirement rations rate apparently ain’t sufficient for razors. Don’t be too proud, Cap’n. Let us know if we need to hit the tip jar a little harder.
He’s just eating right these days. He’s finally dining exclusively on the Hobbit’s fine efforts in the Kitchen and it shows by the lack of the starved bachelor look.
What, no pixies behind the firewall?
Guy C
Very nice – now you gotta try some Rotary Wing time to see what real flying is like……
Wouldn’t you like some film of his first efforts at hovering?
Heh. I’d like to see him try to find the hover button.
Ten thousand rivets surrounding an oil leak waiting for metal fatigue to set in. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?
Ever notice that helo pilots have both hands busy by design? So the feet are on the tail rotor controls, right hand is on the main rotor tilt controls, left hand is on the collective… And yet they place all these switches somewhat important to keeping the thing airborne above the pilot.
Must be an interesting thought process, which control do you let go of to turn on the radio?
– Max
Wasn’t it Harry Reasoner that said, “This is why being a helicopter pilot is so different from being an airplane pilot and why, in general, airplane pilots are open, clear-eyed extroverts and helicopter pilots are brooders, introspective anticipators of trouble. They know if something bad has not happened, it’s about to.”
You didn’t mention the eerie feeling of waifting around the clouds in a plane with zero engine noise, only the sound of wind across the airframe. It’s cool, once you get used to the idea that there’s no engine noise on purpose, rather than as a sign of a pending crash landing.
Lex,
I’m with you on the soaring. I’m just fine with expanding my carbon footprint, thank you.
About that $100 hamburger: mine seem to average closer to $200.
I’m surprised to see you flew the Debonair at 25″ and 2300 RPM. I fly an Arrow, and my instructor would soundly beat me if the manifold pressure would ever exceed the 1st two digits of the RPM. We typically fly at 25″ and 2500, or 24″ and 2400.
Navig8r, I think that your instructor is either very old school or is simplifying things beyond your evident need. The oversquare thing is a bit of a canard (see myth #2). The POH is authoritative on the combinations of MAP and RPM authorized, in the Deb (as in the Cardinal) you can go wide-open throttle continuously and adjust the RPM to whatever yields the smoothest flight down to 2200 RPM or even lower. When you think about it, turbocharged (or normalized) aircraft are almost always oversquare!
As always, consult the book.
Great link Lex. Amateurs like me can always learn from pros like you. I look forward to pulling this out in my next hanger flying session!
Ah, don’t mistake me for any class of “pro” in the general aviation arena anyway – I’ve only got a few hundred of hours of piston time and am always learning new things it seems. I’m just one of those newbies that likes to know, “why?”
So you’re like my 5 year old?
Think of your first glider flight in terms of your first attempt to ride a bicycle or your first time down a ski slope. You had to imagine how much fun it was going to be as opposed to what it was like. And next time, go up in a sailplane instead of a glider, which is a Piper Cub without an engine. The trainer you were in has a glide ratio of about 18 to 1, twice as good as an airplane but half as good as a sailplane. Think of the diagonal on a yard stick, which is about 36 to 1. Then the spoilers really do function much like a throttle, except you still need lift to go up. And if there is lift, you can go someplace with a high probability of getting back.
My dad tells a story of his first powered flight: He had learned to fly gliders in the army during the occupation right after the War, and that particular army also offered powered flight instruction. The instructor said ‘you seem to have enough wits to land this thing, give it a try..’ My father then proceeded to turn off the engine. Being British, the instructor said nothing until the landing when he allowed as perhaps that was not exactly what he had had in mind.
How else can an 86 year old former A-20,A-26 Army Air Corps driver, even with FAA single-multi engine Commercial and Private glider ratings still enjoy solo flight into the high heavens ?NO physical is the secret AND a Grob owner willing rent and supply the tow.Sundance Aviation in thermal happy sunny New Mexico. Works for me. Keep’em flying
Sport Pilot!
Lex, Suggest you give soaring another chance…I’ve never done it but it appears to be much like sailing…motor out under noisey aux power… pick up the PM thermals… hoist the main and jib and start flying…that precise moment of quiet release where the aux power is cut and the only sound remaining is the wind in the sails and your trusty sloop groaning under its increasing speed is an experience that never fails to bring a smile…I would think that something similar happens in soaring at the point when the tow cable is released and the gilider is on its own… it appeares to be the closest thing to actually experiencing avaian flight…I would love to try it…but no matter…different strokes and all…could be you’re more the cigar chomping, cigarette boat type. Best
You’d be out, chipping weeds in the fields, on an endless summer’s afternoon, when a thin drone would cause the old man to stop, un-kink his back and turn his sun shielded eyes to the south west.
And that would be that.
Down tools and off to the airfield to await your turn for a hop in the aeroclub’s Blanik.
Sometimes, the local Gentleman Farmer would even deign to use his pride and toy, a Tiger Moth, for the tug.
Fifteen, bare footed and sharing space with half a sand bag for ballast, was a pretty good way to learn how to fly.
Agreed. A Sunday like yours doesn’t get much better than that. Except for mebbe doing it all off and on grass.
BTW, like the new look.
Yeah, I’m kind of going after that “aging country and western singer/Kenny Rogers look.”
The Kat pointed it out last night, said I was getting “scruffy” and wondering aloud how much longer this particular game would run
“Until the boss mentions it,” I replied, tipping my head conspiratorially in the direction of the matriarch around Chez Lex.
You don’t get the full sail plane effect in a 2-33 like a Blanik. Also Warner Springs with wind is NOT a good choice.Try a calmer day with thermals at Hemet. When I transitioned to power my instructor said I made the best landings for a newbie he’d ever seen, never a go around. I told him, “Where I come from that’s a given.”
Yep, gliders are an excellent place to start. You will learn much about airmanship in them.
I’ve only been a passenger in a glider, from the same outfit that I did my one parachute jump with. Both items were on the “bucket list”.
Very much enjoyed it. Different, and I did not have the usual non-positive adrenaline that I have had in the small planes that I’ve been in while contemplating learning to be a pilot. Kinda funny, but it was quite relaxing and most enjoyable. Sorry the flight ended in such a, subjectively, short time.