Categories: all aviation bicycle gadgets misc motorcycle theater

Fri, 11 Jan 2008

How not to do it

If you would like to be a useful member of the flying community, this may not be a good way to help your fellow pilots. I got a new comment on my 4th of July flight video, which read as follows:

So let's do the math. 500' terrain / obstructions. 1500' Class B. 5 miles from BFI. Flying under SEA final. At least 3 network helo's. Maybe another Police helo or two. And then, flying, watching and operating a camera. Hmmmm. You must be one of those guys setting my TCAS off. I taught out of BFI for years. You're not set to deal with everything. That's why the pros have a pilot & film crew.

This is, in essence, aviatrical condescension. Pull out a bunch of jargon to wow the non-pilots, and end with the implication that I'm not a pro.

Well, good catch, dude. I'm not a pro. I'm also not an idiot. I replied to him in a private message (which is how I would have expected his criticism to arrive at my door, or at least that's the polite expectation), which I won't recount here in all its tedious defense of my professionalism (whether actually a paid professional or not).

Because I'm not an idiot, I was flying the plane while my passenger operated the camera. Because, you know, not an idiot. Implying that I am one in a public forum without all the evidence in front of you (particularly without my having been an idiot in the first place) is a great way to get on my bad side, and not much else.

So, now that that's over, it must be time to eat some ice cream and reprise some Venture Brothers...

(For those keeping score:

• Class B is a type of airspace which requires permission before entering -- I was below it, and it actually starts at 3000' for most of where I was flying, with a little chunk of 1800' on the north-south leg by Lake Washington;
• BFI is Boeing Field, which I was near;
• SEA is Sea-Tac airport, below whose approach path I was in fact flying, although this is similar to pointing out that someone is driving their car on a road;
• a "helo" is most likely a helicopter, although I've never heard anyone use that term before;
• TCAS is some kind of traffic alert system I can't afford... the Traffic Collision Avoidance System, in fact, although I had to look that up.)

Posted at 22:57 permanent link category: /aviation

Thu, 30 Aug 2007

Taildragger lessons, this time for sure!

It's going to be a very aviatory few weeks.

I've got my Biennial Flight Review coming up tomorrow, and then I'll be going up in a Cub I just discovered at Northwest Aviation Center, located next door to the place I've been renting all these years. Of course.

I'm looking forward to the Cub flight. I tried last year to get lessons in a Cub, but the guy I was corresponding with mysteriously failed to return an email, and I got busy with other things, so it was quietly forgotten. Since this Cub belongs to an organization rather than a person (and they appear to be well organized from what I can tell), I'm much more confident it'll actually happen.

A taildragger endorsement is something I'll definitely need if I pursue the biplane thing. It also sounds interesting, as taildraggers (vs. the now standard tricycle gear, where the plane sits level on the ground) are normal for older planes.

Taildraggers are harder to deal with on the ground, since the center of gravity sits behind the wheels. The center of gravity in a tricycle plane is forward of the main wheels. This means that in a tricycle plane, its natural inclination is to go straight when you land -- the CG pulls the wheels forward.

In a taildragger, just the opposite is true: with the CG behind the wheels, it really wants to swap so that the CG leads the main wheels. This necessitates much more conscious handling on the ground to prevent that end-for-end swap from happening (called a "ground loop" when it happens).

A good analogy is using a hand truck -- if you pull it behind you, there's very little thought involved, it just follows where you pull it (this is equivalent of a tricycle plane). If you push it in front of you (with the wheels in front of the center of gravity), you must pay attention or it'll suddenly divert off to the side.

This is all compounded by the fact that the taildragger airplane uses a little tiny wheel, with very little weight on it, to do the steering. Some taildraggers don't even have a steering tailwheel, you're expected to steer by applying brakes to one side or the other, or using the rudder.

So, for all that I can explain what the problems are, that sort of knowledge hasn't ever translated into physical skill, in my experience. It'll be interesting to see how it all applies once I get my feet on the rudder pedals.

Posted at 10:45 permanent link category: /aviation

Tue, 28 Aug 2007

Biplane-ride postscript

A necessary post-script to the last entry is: Thank you John! I really appreciate his willingness to take me up and introduce me to both the world of biplanes and the world of aerobatics. I hope he isn't discouraged by my negative-sounding entry.

As I explained to him after the flight, it's very important that I get some experience with these planes before I go devoting a huge chunk of my time and money towards one. If it ends up I don't like them very much, well, thank god I found out now rather than 2 years, $3000 and 300 hours into the project.

For what it's worth, my thoughts now are more positive as I separate the aerobatic experience from the biplane experience in my head. I still know for sure that aerobatics aren't for me, but the biplane question deserves more research.

As I had somewhat expected, I dreamed about the experience, but not in the way I'd expected. Instead of dreams about falling out of planes, or anything obvious like that, I had a dream that I'd helped John refuel the plane, but in my ham-handedness ended up overfilling the fuel tank. He instructed me to just add a little bit, perhaps a quart or two, and I ended up spraying two and a half gallons in. I'm sure it's closely related to my inability to control the plane well in the air.

The nice thing about my lack of ability to control the plane in the air is, well, I've never flown that plane before. How should I possibly know how to control it well? I'm being too hard on myself to expect perfect, smooth abilities in a plane which everyone acknowledges is many times more nimble (and therefore sensitive) than anything else I've ever flown. That's a problem that can be easily fixed with practice. I did it to get where I am now with theater, writing, motorcycles and Cessnas, I can do it with a sensitive biplane, too.

Posted at 11:32 permanent link category: /aviation

Mon, 27 Aug 2007

My First Biplane (Ride)

I got a message on the Biplane Forum today, and it was John (a local pilot I've been chatting with about going up in his Christen Eagle II). He was confirming that we were still on for our flight today.

Doubletake

Hmm, I thought to myself. I thought that was in a month... Indeed, we'd crossed our dates up, and I'd scheduled for September 27th; he, for August 27th. No matter, I didn't have any firm plans for the evening, so I headed down through nasty commute-time traffic and met him at the Renton airport.

John is a genial guy, and I enjoyed talking with him. We discussed his plane, its history, the 10-way partnership which owns it, and its recent work -- they re-covered the wings. The plane was built in 1981 by a group of 10 people, and many of their changes were integrated into later kits. Apparently a lot of them were Boeing engineers.

He asked whether I wanted to just go up and cruise around, or do acrobatics. I thought for a second and said, "Acrobatics." I pretty much figured acrobatics weren't my cup of tea, but I wanted to find out for sure. We talked about what we'd do in the air: a 2-point roll, a loop, and a reverse cuban eight. He explained how the parachute worked, and how to fasten the straps.

Pre-flight discussion and check done, he rolled the plane out of the hangar. We climbed in, and he got me strapped into the plane: a belt over each shoulder, one to each side, lap-belt style, and one between the legs. Then, there was the redundant lap-belt, an extra safety measure instituted after one aerobatic competitor died from an unfastened strap.

He fired up the engine, and we taxied out. He positioned the plane on the runway. I saw the throttle lever move itself forward (the cockpits are positioned tandem, or front-and-back, rather than side-to-side), and I was pressed back into the seat, the engine throbbing loudly in my head. The 200 HP motor pulled the plane aggressively forward. It should, that's 2x the power and 90% of the weight of the 152 I've flown most recently.

The plane fairly bounded into the air, sprung up from a dip in the runway. We climbed quickly. I have no idea how quickly, as there was no vertical speed indicator, but it was fast. Clear of the airport, he gave me control of the airplane. The ride immediately went from smooth to bobbling and wonky. I overcontrolled, and basically ignored the rudder pedals. I felt like I was falling sideways out of the plane on alternating sides. I commented over the intercom that I wasn't yet a stick and rudder pilot, and John laughed drily.

He took the plane back, and cleared the area by doing a few turns. The nose of the plane is prominent, and blocks a good portion of the view. After the turns, and a few calls on the radio, he set us up for our first maneuver: a 2-point roll. This is a roll where you roll over to inverted, hold it, and then roll back to upright. He asked if I was ready, and I gave the thumbs up.

Suddenly, the plane twitched to the left, the world went upside-down, and I was hanging from the harness, the earth trying to yank me out of the plane. It twitched again, and the world was right side up again. John asked how I was doing, and I said I was fine. I was fine, but I can't say I was having a fun time.

Next was a loop. He reminded me of the magic word: "hook!" The idea is you say this word, which tightens up the diaphragm, and at the same time, tense up your legs and everything else. This keeps your blood from dropping precipitously out of your head during positive-G maneuvers. It's kind of a cheap version of the fancy high-G suits worn by fighter pilots.

He dove to pick up some speed, and pulled up. I said "hook!" and tensed up. My cheeks sagged and my head felt precariously heavy. The sky filled my view, and then we were at the top, and I sagged onto the straps once more, feeling like I was one thread away from falling out of the plane. We continued back out to level.

I asked how much altitude the loop had taken, and John said we'd entered at 3500 feet, peaked at 4100, and come out at 3600. That's pretty cool, and doubtless one of the joys of a powerful, light plane.

Our final maneuver was a reverse cuban eight, which is (as I understood it), a climb, with a roll to inverted, and then a loop back out to upright. Which is to say, roll over so gravity tugged hard at my harness, then remember to "hook!" and tense up as gravity pulled my face down into a parody of an 80 year old man.

We were done with the aerobatics, and my stomach caught up with me. I started sweating in a delayed stress reaction from the wildly variable forces which had been acting on me. John asked what I thought, and I gave him my assessment as far as I could make it at that point: "I don't think I like aerobatics much."

We headed back to the airport, flying under the Seattle Class B airspace. The landing was quite smooth, and I was interested to note that John touched the tailwheel down just before the mains. We rolled out and taxied back to the hangar.

We talked for perhaps half an hour after the flight, sipping water from a tiny refrigerator which seemed to be stocked for the purpose of cooling anti-nausea water. It did help. I wasn't exactly nauseated, but I wasn't really steady either. That was easily the most thrown-around I've been in a very long time. In fact, even now, hours after the flight, my stomach still feels a bit odd. John explained that for his first few aerobatic lessons he had to sit in the car for 20 minutes after the lesson before he felt up to driving home.

We parted company, and I rode home, thinking distressed thoughts about the folly of building a biplane. The time we spent in the air was essentially unlike what I'd been expecting, which bugged me. The problem is, I'd imagined aerobatics as basically feeling like sitting in a straight-and-level plane but with the horizon doing crazy things around me. I'd been intellectually aware that it must involve high G-forces, but the reality of it never really sank in until I was feeling my face sag as I tensed my body to keep the blood up in my head.

Similarly, despite all the pictures I'd seen, and the planes I saw at Arlington, the actual experience of sitting in a biplane was very claustrophobic and cramped. It wasn't uncomfortable for the time we were up, but it was obvious that flying to Portland would be pretty much out of the question from a comfort standpoint. The sound and vibration would team up with the one-and-only position you could sit in, and really make a long flight miserable. An open cockpit (the Eagle is fully enclosed) would make it even worse, from the standpoint of comfort.

The actual feeling of flying the plane, for the 4 minutes I did it, was depressing, more than anything else. I had no sense of how to get the plane to do what I wanted, with the result that we bobbled around the sky more like someone playing a video game than an experienced pilot guiding an airplane. I couldn't feel the rudder pedals, so the only way I knew I'd pressed on one was when I felt like I was being tipped sideways out of the cockpit. Flying with coordination was out of the question, I was just trying to keep it aimed in the right general direction.

From talking with John afterwards, this is pretty much how all first-time pilots treat the plane. I'm not alone. Even so, I prefer to think I fly pretty smoothly (which I do, in the big, dull Cessnas -- they don't give you the control response to make mistakes); it was a blow to my sensitive little ego to fly John's plane so poorly.

To be fair, the Christen Eagle is a very sensitive, sporty plane. It's not quite up to the level of a hot competitive aerobatic showstopper, but it's close, perhaps 80% up the scale from what I understand. The Acro Sport II, which is my theoretical choice, is not so far up, perhaps 60% or 70% (with the Cessnas coming in around 30-40%).

This is part of the problem: the Eagle is so vastly outside my experience that I don't really have a place to put it. It's just somewhere out there, well beyond what I'm comfortable with. Of course, if I only do what's comfortable in life, it's not going to be very interesting. I do need to push myself beyond my comfort zone once in a while.

As I told John after our flight, I now need to separate the "biplane" from the "aerobatics." More importantly, I need to see if I can get up in an Acro Sport II. I guessed, and confirmed, that aerobatics weren't for me. Now I need to see if biplanes are for me, without aerobatics getting in the way.

Posted at 23:45 permanent link category: /aviation

Every Passing Day Brings a New Waffle

Waffling. I'm definitely doing it. Yep.

Today's (well, this week's) waffle is this: building a plane. Pro: neat project, fun to work on, at the end of it I have a plane to fly. Con: expensive, hugely time consuming, at the end of it I have a plane which consumes money and petrochemicals.

I've mentioned this many times before, and it always comes down to this fundamental choice: is the task of building a plane worth the monetary, social and environmental cost of contributing another gas-guzzler to the world?

The math is pretty depressing. The very fastest I'd finish a plane is about 5 years. So, that'd be 2013 if I started reasonably soon. More likely, it would take me 7-10 years, which puts us as far out as 2017. What do you think gas prices are going to be like in 2013-2017? I'm guessing they're not going to be pretty, probably $5-7 per gallon of 87 octane auto gas. Aviation gas (which is what my flying money-pit will need) typically costs 150% auto gas, so I could expect to pay as much as $10-11 per gallon to fly.

So, that's one factor: an hour in my shiny new biplane could cost around $100 (10 gallons per hour, typically), just for gasoline. Oil will be another $10, give or take.

However, that ignores the consistent rumors that 100LL aviation gasoline will no longer be produced in the near future. I'm not talking idle rumors from cranks on message boards, either: AOPA is worried, too.

So, there's every chance that I could be spending most of my free time and a lot of money towards a thing that, when done, can't be used. Oh, there'll surely be some kind of compromise fuel discovered that will work, but I'd guess that 150% comparison to auto gas won't hold true any more. What will it be replaced with? Who knows! I'm guessing it'll exceed my recreation budget, though.

Does this all mean I'm giving up on building a plane? Not really, but it's not very encouraging, either. I keep hoping someone will come up with a breakthrough fuel cell or something, but I'm not holding my breath.

Posted at 14:37 permanent link category: /aviation

Wed, 22 Aug 2007

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step

My first-ever airplane part arrived today:

In case it's unclear, that's an airspeed indicator, registering 40 to 200 MPH (and 40 to 180 knots in the subscale). It's definitely used, but it was also cheap, at $50 plus shipping. I'm not absolutely convinced it works, but it'll be simple enough to check.

If it works, I saved $250. If it doesn't, I have a pricey conversation piece. Either way, I'm pretty pleased.

I might have to get a pitot tube set up on my motorcycle and do some "testing."

Posted at 15:45 permanent link category: /aviation

Sat, 14 Jul 2007

Arlington, Part II

I was dissappointed that the gas welding forum wasn't happening, so I wandered. The weather was doing strange things, but the rain had stopped (I got to use my new umbrella for both rain and sun that day), and heavy clouds were visually duking it out in the sky.

Finally, and surprisingly quickly, 1 pm rolled around, and it was time for another workshop. I had a choice between TIG welding and fabric covering, and I vacillated for a bit, but finally decided on fabric covering. I know that's something I'll be doing, and I was really curious how it's done, since no one really talks about the process itself.

The workshop was presented by Poly-Fiber, one of the manufacturers of fabric and related chemicals, so I started out a little skeptical. However, the presenter himself (Gary, maybe? let's go with Gary) almost immediately explained that all the fabric comes from one mill, and the only difference is which stamp the put on it. That was good to hear, and he established that he didn't sell anything himself, so at least Gary wasn't completely biased. He's actually an aircraft mechanic in Canada.

Anyway, he talked for a while about the old way of doing it (cotton and butyrate dope) and the new way of doing it (unshrunk polyester and heat). A major difference between the two is that the cotton fabric had to be sewn into the right shape, and slipped on the piece to be covered (imagine sewing a sock big enough to fit around a wing or fuselage!). The polyester, on the other hand, can be adhered to the piece with glue. Gary allowed that now, it's likely we have adhesive sufficiently strong to adhere cotton as well, but cotton still lacks compared to polyester.

The other big difference is that polyester shrinks with heat. You apply a 250° iron to it, and it shrinks 5%. Apply a 350° iron to it, and it shrinks another 5%. Apply a 400° iron to it, and it starts permanently relaxing (ie, unshrinking), and at 426° it melts. So, obviously temperature control is important.

Cotton, on the other hand, is shrunk with water and about 27 coats of dope, each coat requiring sanding before the next. It's a lot more work. Apparently you can also finish polyester with dope, but it's still a lot of coats and sanding.

Anyway, the cool part of this workshop is that it was hands-on. Gary had a half-dozen steel frames on tables, and each was set up with a piece of fabric and a little tub of glue. We introduced ourselves to our neighbors, and set up two to a frame. In short order, we had the frame half-covered, and it didn't take long before it was entirely covered. The guy I was working with, Jim, and I managed to get the fabric fairly taut to begin with, but by the time we had it glued on and shrunk to fit, it was really tight. We were very happy with how easy and effective the process was.

The final task (as we listened to the airshow planes diving and twirling outside -- the workshop ran 30 minutes over time) was to remove the fabric for the next class. So, I pulled out my knife and slashed each section diagonally on one side, and we started pulling it off. The fabric was very difficult to rip, and only marginally easier to pull off the glue lines.

Most interestingly (I wish I'd gotten a picture of this), on the flip side, I'd just scored the fabric, without actually cutting through it. On the final panel, it was very lightly scored, and I tried punching through it. And again. And again. The scored line got wider, but it took 5 or 6 full-strength punches before it separated. That fabric is amazingly tough. Jim and I were both very impressed.

The final bit of presentation was on finishing the fabric. Interestingly, Gary said categorically that auto and house paint won't work because they'll crack from vibration. He also said that the scraps of fabric were souvenirs, so I grabbed a few, thinking I might do weathering tests with them.

It was funny, I could feel Gary's audience straining to go watch the airshow as he was standing there, explaining about paint, with the engine noises occasionally completely covering his voice. I'm surprised he ran over so far on time, since he'd done this same presentation at least 4-5 times already this week.

Getting out of the fabric workshop, I walked towards the airshow viewing area. There was (no surprise) an airplane flying around, trailing smoke. I guess I'm not very enthralled with airshow displays.

I realized at this point that I hadn't really eaten anything since 6:00 in the morning, so I walked back to the "food court" area (actually numerous carney-style booths selling corndogs and caramel apples). I was beginning to despair of finding food I might want to eat, when I spotted a place claiming to sell Mexican-style food such as quesadillas and soft tacos. I ordered a cheese quesadilla (yes, I know, redundant) after establishing that it wasn't made with that horrible plastic squirty cheese (I think I asked exactly that question: "Is the quesadilla made with that horrible plastic squirty cheese?" pointing at a display dish covered in flourescent orange goo). I also got a can of coke. Total bill? $7.50. Sheesh. Oh, but it included "salsa," which seemed to be ketchup with corn and black beans in it, and no spice whatsoever. It was acceptable as food, but definitely overpriced.

I watched the airplanes cavorting overhead, and chewed on my cheese-thing. It felt good to sit down, as this day entailed a lot of walking around.

I walked back and sat down to watch the airshow for a bit after lunch. It was impressive to watch the airplanes dancing around the sky, flying straight up for quite a distance before kicking the tail over. Perhaps most impressive about the displays is that the majority of the acrobatic planes were home-built.

The airshow concluded with a "military parade" which left me with mixed feelings -- my inner savage-child was screaming "Cool!" and the thinking upper layers were getting that sinking feeling of looking at instruments of death.

The late afternoon involved a lot of wandering around, looking for biplanes, but there just weren't many to be seen. I did find the acrobatic section, with a number of Christen Eagles painted in the distinctive color-burst scheme, which I really dislike.

Eventually, I found myself back at the Chapter 84 tent, talking with Tom about his plane. Specifically, I asked him about welding, which seems like it's going to be in my future. He suggested, in short, that I should start with gas welding. That's the conclusion I'd been coming to, but it was very nice to hear a real person say that. I find myself distrusting semi-anonymous Internet postings on what appear to be contentious topics. TIG vs. gas welding seems to be one of those topics.

There was another person who was hanging around the 84 tent, who was one of those people who just talks and talks. As it happens, that's a habit that really gets on my nerves, so I was kind of annoyed to see he was still there -- he'd been there, talking at Tom before the fabric workshop as well. Still, I was very happy to have met Tom, and am looking forward to attending Chapter 84 meetings.

Finally, it was time to go. I'd been there since 7:30 in the morning, and it was now past 6, nearing 7. I walked towards the parking lot, and diverted when I realized that I'd never investigated the airplane rides being offered. I would kick myself if getting a ride in a biplane or a Beech 18 was available and I didn't even check it out.

I hit the Biplane Rides! booth, and saw that they were charging $60 per person. I asked a bit about the plane (some 1929 era plane I'd never heard of), and we established that $60 bought you 10-15 minutes in the air. I thought about it, and decided that was a waste of money -- I'm going to be getting plenty of biplane rides for $100+ per hour some time in the future if I proceed with this airplane project, so the $360/hr rate seemed a tad steep.

I did take the opportunity to take pictures of the plane, though. It was in excellent condition, and surprisingly had a four-place front cockpit: it'd been designed and built for taking people up on rides.

Ok, really, time to head home. I walked back to the parking lot, going by way of the biplanes, when of course I noticed a new one. I went to look at it, and ended up following the pilot and a helper as they pushed it to its parking spot. It was a modified Acro Sport II (a plane which is, coincidentally, looking more attractive for my purposes), painted a very deep red, with black scallops on the wings. Pretty sharp looking. The pilot immediately took off, but said the builder would be by in five minutes. I waited a few minutes, but hunger and the desire to not be standing any more got the better of me. I walked back in the direction of the parking lot, stopping to take a few more pictures.

I was hailed at this point, "What are you going to do with all those pictures?" I walked over and started chatting with the guy (who was selling his Starduster Too for a mere $36k), and we ended up talking for about an hour. During that time another Starduster Too pulled in, and an extremely tall man climbed out. He explained that he'd gotten his tailwheel endorsement on July 4th, which means he had about 10 hours in a taildragger, if even that much. Daring, but I guess you gotta do what you gotta do when you buy a new plane.

I looked at my watch and realized it was almost 8 pm. I excused myself, and walked back to the sidecar rig. It was definitely time, as the sun sank below the trees. I had fun, but it was time to go home.

Posted at 11:34 permanent link category: /aviation

Fri, 13 Jul 2007

Oh Arlington, my Arlington

See all the pictures I took in the gallery.

I took the day off from work today, and toddled on up to the Arlington Fly-In, which the promoters claim is the 3rd largest fly-in in the US. Hard for me to know whether that claim is true or not, as this was my first fly-in.

The gates opened at 8, and not wanting to be stuck behind a huge crowd, I arrived around 7:30. This involved waking up at the incomprehensible hour of 5:45 am, but it wasn't so bad, since I didn't comprehend it. I made the trip on the sidecar rig, since the Ninja's down with Idiot Thief problems.

I needn't have worried about the crowd. I have the impression that the crowd was actually unusually sparse. There seemed to be maybe several hundred people there, and I had the impression they usually expect 5-10x that many people. Good for me, but bad for the EAA, I guess.

Anyway, after wandering past a display of several Beech 18s (my favorite pipe-dream/alternate reality plane), I wandered until I found the biplane section. Unfortunately, there were only a few, and they all seemed to be exactly the same model. I was really hoping to see a variety of different planes up close, but my goal was thwarted. They were all Starduster Toos, which are a pretty plane, but too heavy, and very complex-looking to build.

One thing I found very interesting is that all these biplanes seemed really small. I'd had this impression that all the biplanes I was looking at were absolutely huge, but in reality they were quite small. It makes sense, when I think about it, but it was a surprising (and somewhat encouraging) realization.

Too soon, the first forum I wanted to attend was upon me. I ducked into an unnaturally dark tent, and listened to an uninspired man talk about tailwheel flying. He had good information, but it was mostly stuff I already knew, so I've probably finished the "ground school" portion of my tailwheel education. Interestingly, he's based out of Scappoose, which is very near my parents' house. Hmmm.... (One of the Stardusters was based out of St. Helens, which is near Scappoose. Double-hmm!)

During the talk on tailwheel flying, the weather decided to assert itself, and we heard rolling thunder getting closer. Then it got really close. Moments later, fat, heavy drops of rain started hitting the tent, and it got even darker as a huge thunderhead must have passed overhead. The rain resolved into a steady patter. The tent filled up with extra people who'd decided that listening to tailwheel droning was better than getting wet. (The guy was actually fine to listen to, but his style of presentation could have used some work.)

Tailwheel man ran over by 15 minutes, but I had some time to wander. I continued along the way I'd been going, and went through all the vendor tents. Nothing too exciting, although I'm sure that'll change (mostly my attitude will change, I mean) if/when I start building.

After the vendors, I found the EAA chapter 84 tent. This was pretty interesting to me because EAA chapter 84 is full of people who are actually building airplanes. Chapter 26, which is the Seattle chapter, and meets at Boeing Field, is full of people who.... meet once a month, as far as I can tell. Chapter 84, which meets in Snohomish, at Harvey Field (likely future home of any biplanes I happen to build), is much more active.

In fact, I met a man named Tom, who's building a Starduster Too (same as all those biplanes I saw out in the judging area), and has been for 15 years. He said he's been at it off and on during that time, it's not as if he's been working diligently for 15 years. He and I ended up chatting about a few things before it was time to excuse myself for the gas welding forum. I wandered over to the tent (conveniently just next to the tent I was already in), but there was no evidence of gas welding.

I asked the person who looked to be in charge whether he would be teaching gas welding, and he said no, the gas welder was off doing something else, and he'd be teaching sheetmetal bending. Dissapointed, I wandered off to find something else to do -- sheetmetal is low on my list of priorities.

The next hour or two consisted of wandering around and looking at planes. I chatted some more with the guy from St. Helens (me: "I'm thinking of building a biplane." him: "Gee, you look sane enough [why would you want to do a thing like that?]").

Next episode: I learn that punching out airplane fabric is harder than it looks.

Posted at 23:59 permanent link category: /aviation

Fri, 06 Jul 2007

Night Flight (with video!)

Kristin and I went up in a Cessna 152 for the fourth of July. As I commented to her after the flight, "We only spent $150 on that for both of us -- we got off cheap!" She replied, "Yeah, my neighbor must have spent $200-300 easily on fireworks..."

As you can see, the view was pretty good:

The flight is from Paine Field in Everett, down to Seattle, back and forth over Ballard, Fremont and Wallingford, then back to Everett. If you listen carefully at the end, you can hear me say, "That was a terrible landing!" It wasn't that bad, but I flared higher than I'd wanted to, which resulted in a fair bump rather than a nice slick roll. Oh well. It's one of the perils of night landings, although interestingly not one I've ever suffered from before.

Enjoy! (No, the sound never gets more interesting. I may re-cut it later with music.)

Posted at 10:04 permanent link category: /aviation

Mon, 02 Jul 2007

I Bought a (Dream) Plane!

Of course, the experience was basically stressful, so it was more of an anxiety dream than one of those good dreams.

On a whim (in my dream), I decided to buy a plane. I don't know what the reasoning was, but awake-logic suggests that $20k spent on building a plane vs. just buying one for $20k might suddenly make sense. In any case, I suddenly owned a plane. Perhaps it was a Cessna 152. I was overjoyed!

Then I started looking closer. Apparently, I had bought a plane without even doing a rudimentary pre-flight inspection, much less done any of the research one would normally do. The prop had a sharp wave in one blade, as if it were folded back on itself, then inexpertly straightened again. I realized that this had to have been a prop strike, which is not only a problem for the prop, but a death knell for the engine.

Then I realized that I hadn't thought to check the log books (assuming the plane even had log books). Nor had I hired a mechanic to look it over for me (which I do with motorcycles). In fact, I had effecively walked up to this plane with barely a glance and said, "I'll take it!"

Then, of course, the anxiety really set in, as I started spinning over the fact that I had just bought this plane at full market value for a functional, airworthy airplane, but had in fact purchased something which was barely worth anything as scrap. (This situation is actually a reflection of my waking life, where I bought a minivan for the "functional" price, then found it had a broken head gasket; but that's a different story, and only involves $3k.)

By the time 5 am rolled around, I was awake enough to start planning out this very journal entry, having realized it was a dream and that I was not in fact out twenty grand for a jumbled pile of scrap aluminum. Hooray?

Posted at 08:56 permanent link category: /aviation

Wed, 27 Jun 2007

Ok, yeah, scary

I found this video linked on one of the airplane forums I frequent:

Me, personally, I find that video to be full of the scary. Horrible portents and all that, dystopian sci-fi films, all the way down to the ominous Soviet-sounding march/dirge in the background. The over-zealous announcer clinches the deal.

I mentioned this on the aforementioned airplane forum, and was reminded that, whatever I may prefer to believe, I'm probably the only guy interested in building an airplane who's also interested in seeing us stop building more and more efficient ways to kill each other (since we invariably use them -- one reason I never want to carry a gun, ever). The response of everyone else was overwhelmingly positive on the new plane.

So yeah, note to self: don't engage in political discussion on Internet forums. Check.

Posted at 18:11 permanent link category: /aviation

Sat, 23 Jun 2007

Crazy plans, crazy planes

I feel like my "maybe, could be" plans about building a plane are starting to firm up. To recap:

Mid-July last year, I had a sudden and powerful yen to build an airplane. I talked myself out of it as being too expensive (which it is) and horrible for the environment (which it is). Then, in June this year, I came back to the idea, and it started to sound good again. It's still expensive, but has always been manageable. It's still bad for the environment, but I'm kind of looking at it as using my "gas ration" that I'm not using any more (the last time I bought gas was... weeks ago, maybe?). Between living in Fremont (ie, 5 minutes' walk from work), and being able to bike damn near anywhere I need to (including Boeing Field and the top of Queen Anne hill -- I'm almost invincible!), I'm not feeling so bad about the whole fossil fuels equation any more.

Anyway, so now, I'm starting to develop a coherent plan. The most appealing choice of plane so far is the Ragwing Special II:

This is a plane which is only available as plans (which I previously considered extra-crazy, but have come around on), and the plans are $100. That means it costs me $100 to dip a toe in the water and see what I think. First thing I can build is a rib, which is a built-up structure about 3 feet long and shaped like a geometrical fish. I'll eventually have to build ~40 of them, so building one gives me a taste of what I'm in for without spending more than a few bucks in wood and a couple hours of time.

The plane that eventually springs forth, fully formed from the aether (ahem), flies at around 90-100 mph cruise, and will use around 3.5-4 gallons per hour. That's over 25 mpg in reasonble circumstances. I'll be doing better than the majority of cars.

It'll have two seats, and the weight capacity to carry a moderately heavy passenger, particularly if we make it a short flight with minimal fuel (to keep weight down). That gives me a chance to fly my dad around, which is one of my definite goals, even if I only ever do it once or twice.

The current engine of choice is called a Jabiru 2200, and is an 85 HP four-cylinder, designed specifically for airplane use. It's spendy, but over the likely 2-4 year timespan of building, I can probably find one used for a lot less than the new price. I read somewhere that the recommended maximum weight for the engine is 180 lbs, so that knocks out most of my other choices, such as the Rotec R-2800 radial, or a Continental C-90/O-200. Besides, if I keep the engine light, then I have that much more weight capacity available for passengers.

I know I'm going to want at least a basic electrical system (I could in theory build a plane with no electrical system at all, and hand-prop the engine -- it's lighter, but I'd rather not). I'll want electric-start on the motor, as well as lights so I can fly at night, and enough equipment to fly over Seattle (a transponder and a radio).

I've had some interesting thoughts about lights using some of the new super-bright LEDs they're putting in flashlights. I figure that using 6 of them together is enough for a landing light, and they can also be used for position lights on the wingtips and tail. A major advantage of LEDs is they use much less power, so the wires don't have to be as fat -- and that means less weight (see where I'm going with all this?). Also, the less equipment I have to run, the smaller the battery can be, etc. etc. Light weight is key.

A worry I'd had on this project was pondering spending $8-20 a foot (not board-foot either!) for aircraft-certified spruce. That is, until I found out that the local lumber yards carry spruce, and for about 1/8-1/15 the cost. I can self-certify the wood according to the same spec and methods the Army and Navy used in WWII (when a lot of wood went into a lot of airplanes), and come out spending much less money. I even have clever plans for how to test ultimate strength on the wood I choose, so I know how it compares to the wood with the official seal on it. That combined with information on wood equivalencies make me pretty confident I can do this without breaking the bank.

In fact, the only big tool I "need" which I don't already have is a table saw (or radial-arm saw, I'm not sure which is a better choice yet). There are also about a million clamps and doubtless a small truckload of other things I'm not thinking about, but none of it feels overwhelming or scary.

After all that, the one thing I haven't decided yet? Whether I'm actually going to do it. It sounds grand, but I haven't come solidly to the conclusion that it's a project I should undertake. That one will come with time. Check back in a year or two, and the answer should be clear.

Posted at 23:33 permanent link category: /aviation

Wed, 20 Jun 2007

A little light practice

The weather was so nice today that I dropped everything, and headed for the airport after work.

I took a Cessna 152 up, and practiced steep turns. I also flew over Harvey Field, trying to find it again by pilotage (no GPS; shocking, I know). I found it, partially by aiming for the hot air balloon:

I found myself over Harvey, and snapped a few pictures from the air for the heck of it. None of them turned out very well, but this one is kind of clear:

Then I flew back to Paine, and flew some touch-n-goes. I must have been distracted for a few of them, because my patterns sucked and my touch-downs sucked. When I actually paid attention, I was able to set the tires down without a problem, but a couple of those landings were atrocious. 5 landings, with only two of them worthy of the name. Ah well, I got other stuff right. It didn't help to hear the grinding noise wind up as the tires got up to speed -- them's some dying bearings.

After I got the plane back to its spot and tied down, I was struck by the casual symmetry of all these airplane tails alternating down the line:

It was a pretty nice flight. Landing goofiness aside, I did well. Thinking about it consciously this time, I definitely think I would have enjoyed the flight more if I'd been in an open-cockpit plane. I'll have to work on that.

Link to all the pictures from that flight

Posted at 23:33 permanent link category: /aviation

Mon, 28 May 2007

The build bug

The idea of building an airplane hasn't gone away entirely. I was struck by the idea again recently, and looked around a little bit. Since I didn't stick strictly to my prejudice about building an all-wood design, I came across the Sherwood Ranger, which is an aluminum and wood design.

The key trick to the Ranger is that its wings really fold. No rigging, no re-attaching stuff. You pull four pins and swing 'em back. You're done. Setting it up again is the opposite -- pull them forward, insert pins, done. Now that's my kind of setup!

I was thinking, previously, about building a biplane that would fold up, that's nothing new. The problem is that every other design I've come across has a folding process which takes 30 minutes, and involves re-attaching controls, tension wires, electrical wires, etc. It's an involved-enough process that it would quickly become a mental barrier to flying, and it would either languish in a garage, or I'd end up blowing $300+ per month on a hanger for the plane.

The Ranger is no more of a travellin' plane than anything else I've been considering. Its economy cruise speed is 60 mph, and max cruise is around 85. Climb is impressive, though, and its payload is actualy more than its empty weight. Being a two-seater with 460 lbs payload capacity, it's actually got enough weight-room for me and another person and a couple gallons of gas.

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be much expertise about it available on the web, although I'm sure a few of them must have been built in the US. Unfortunately again, the kit maker is in the UK, and our exchange rate is terrible right now. I wouldn't do anything about it in any case for a year or so, but it does mean that purchase and shipping would be expensive.

So, it's interesting to have found such an appealing kit. I'll have to see if I still find it interesting when I'm in a better position to start such a large project.

Posted at 00:16 permanent link category: /aviation

Thu, 12 Apr 2007

Your website is your business

So, I came across an interesting situation today. I was thinking about a trip I might want to make, and went to the website of one of my favorite airplane rental places. No comment on who, because he's a good guy, and I don't want to bring him negative publicity. This is a commentary on business practices and websites.

I went to the website to find prices. I found my plane, and was pleased to see that the rate hadn't changed. Woo! I remembered that the last time I was in, there was a fuel surcharge, though, so I called to ask about it. Sure enough, there's still a surcharge of $10 per hour.

That's all fine, but the website actually says, "All our prices include fuel" and strongly implies that other rental agencies have hidden fuel surchages and insurance fees. The fuel surchage isn't mentioned on the website.

So, think about that for a minute. There's text on the site that says, "We don't have hidden fuel fees!" and there's a hidden (at least on the website) fuel fee. It's very obvious when you get in the office -- there are signs around saying "$10 fuel surcharge applies" and it's listed on the printed price sheet. So it's not exactly hidden to a walk-in customer.

But what this guy doesn't seem to realize is that the whole world minus walk-up and current customers sees his business through the filter of that website. Say I'm a private pilot from New York, and I'm planning a trip out to the Seattle area, and am looking for a place to rent a plane. It's going to be a bit of hassle anywhere, so I want low rates and my particular plane type. He's got one, and his rates are pretty good. Neat! Imagine my surprise when I get there and discover that there are hidden charges.

Yes, current customers and people who call or walk in will get the whole story. But if they saw your website first, they're going to be annoyed, and might even be distrustful -- you said right on your site, no hidden fuel surcharges!

If you're reading this and you have a business and a website, you might keep that in mind. Your website is your storefront to the entire world. It says a lot about your business. Don't let it mislead your potential customers.

Posted at 11:52 permanent link category: /aviation

Wed, 29 Nov 2006

Airplane building thoughts, a couple months on

So, the last time I said anything about the idea of building an airplane, it was pretty negative. I had a comprehensive awakening to the horrible situation we're in, as a society, regarding energy usage. It sounded pretty negative, and it pretty much was negative.

I had a thought, a month or two ago, which amounted to, "if I ever want to do it, now is the best time." The logic goes like this: building an airplane isn't very resource-intensive, but flying it is. Since the goal of building an airplane, at least in part, is to fly it, building an airplane is therefore an exercise in using gasoline. If I'm going to do something which uses gasoline, it's going to cost more the later I do it (assuming that oil is going to get more scarce and therefore expensive, which seems reasonable).

If it's going to cost more the longer I push it back, then it makes the most sense to do it as soon as possible. That assumes I really want to do it, but it's an acceptable assumption.

Only now, a month or two after I had that series of thoughts, I'm no longer so certain I want to build an airplane. It still sounds interesting, but the idea no longer maintains that obsessive hold on me that it did a few months ago. Now, with the benefit of some space, it seems a bit crazy. Not crazy like I couldn't do it, but crazy like, "why would I want to?"

So now, I'm not sure. Flying has gone back to its holding position of being something I'm intellectually interested in, but something which doesn't really call to me in any sort of visceral way. I passed a few months without even thinking about airplanes or flying. Then I thought to myself, "Hey, I haven't been flying lately, maybe I should fix that," but it didn't really sound all that appealing.

I think I've again reached that place where flying doesn't matter any more. I'm glad I know how to fly, I'm glad I could go back to it, but I can't really get excited about it. It's expensive, and it's a lot of work. I can't use it to travel because it's so very dependent upon weather. I don't find myself craving it for fun.

I guess, until something changes, I'm done with flying.

Posted at 18:12 permanent link category: /aviation

Thu, 17 Aug 2006

A moment in Ian's personal aviation history

I just looked, for giggles, to see who currently owns N1912H, the Piper Cherokee in which I did most of my training.

Imagine my dismay when I came across this entry in the NTSB database. Yep, 1912H was crashed two years ago, killing one of the passengers. The idiot pilot loaded it more than 100 lbs overweight, didn't do a weight and balance calculation, and plowed into some trees. Sounds like he did a fair job of piloting once he realized the predicament he was in, so credit to him for thinking fast. But really, minus several million points for thinking he could load four people in that little plane in 100° F temperatures and actually take off.

It's kind of sad for me, as I always liked that plane. It wasn't fast, but it certainly worked well for me. It took me to Portland and back, and I probably spent 40+ hours in it for my training. I was bummed when Zephyr went under, and it stopped being an option for rental (although I see Zephyr is still in business in some form, and still has the $100 I had on account there when they croaked in 2002). 5850W, the Cherokee 160 I now fly via Northway is fine, but I liked that 140 better.

Anyway, I'm taking a moment of reflection on the passing of a friend. It was just a hunk of metal and electronics, but it was my hunk of metal, on the occasions I was in it.

So things go, I guess. Note to self: weight and balance calculations are important.

Posted at 14:39 permanent link category: /aviation

Wed, 16 Aug 2006

Passengers, beware

I've recently joined the Fishnet mailing list, a list for people to discuss Fisher Flying Products airplanes. The model I'm looking at, the Celebrity, is a FFP kit.

Anyway, among the first things I asked about (if you click that link, you can read the list archives) was cockpit size. The consensus seems to be that I'll probably fit as the pilot, but I might well not fit as the passenger.

That's kind of a problem. A number of people I'm imagining as passengers are about my size. If they can't fit as passengers, why am I building a plane with two seats? It'd be much cheaper, and just as satisfying, to build a smaller airplane, with a smaller motor, with a smaller weight envelope, and with one seat. Granted, it'd just be me, but this project is really about what I want, and not what other people want. It just happens that one of my desires aligns pretty well with some other people's desires: for both of us to go flying in the plane I built.

So, I think that before I commit any money to anything, I need to find myself a Celebrity with a completed cockpit and mounted wings, to see how hard it really is to get into the passenger seat. If it really is improbable, I need to move on and keep looking.

The other thing I need to look at long and hard is my intended mission. My current flying regimen breaks down about like this:

• 15 parts touch-n-go, keep-in-practice flying
• 2 parts short cross-country to places like Orcas Island
• 1 part long cross country to places like Portland
• 1 part night flying

It's actually a bit more biased in favor of the touch-n-go flying, but that's pretty close as far as how things line up in my mind, whatever may be in the logbook.

If I built a plane, what would I want it to do?

• 5 parts touch-n-go practice
• 1 part night flying
• 1 part short cross-country
• 1 part long cross-country
• 1 part cross-mountain capability, for longer cross-country flights

How about passengers? Right now, I've got about 40 hours in the logbook since I got my license, with about 60 spent in training. Discounting training as a special case (which it is), of the remaining 40 hours, I've probably spent 5 to 7 of them with one passenger, and perhaps 3-4 with two or more passengers. That's 10% with two or more passengers, almost 20% with one passenger, and 70% by myself.

But, what would I like to do?

I know I want to fly with one passenger. That's a no-brainer. Whether it's my girlfriend, or a friend who wants to go up, or a parent or brother, I want to be able to accomodate them. But some of those people I just listed are my size or bigger, either in height or breadth, so I must be able to be a passenger without much trouble in order to ensure that they can too.

I don't need to carry more than one passenger. If I need to do that, I just go rent a plane from Larry's SpamCan Rental, and we go wherever in certified comfort. It'd be cool to be able to fly groups in my own airplane, but then we're getting into serious money and time to build. Both are things which will prevent successful completion of a project like this. I'll just do the occasional rental for that, it's way cheaper in the long run.

So, my mission includes at least 10% distance flight. For distance flight, you want at least moderate comfort. Is that comfort afforded by a small wooden biplane? Probably not. My mission includes at least 10% local flight, and probably more once I realize I can do it and how much fun it is. All you need for that is appropriate clothing and a tough enough butt to last 30-60 minutes in the cockpit. Pretty much anything will supply that. I could fly to Orcas in a powered hang glider if I really wanted to. Night flight poses the same requirements as local flight, with the addition of some weight for lights.

The interesting one is mountain flying. I think mountain flying, and I think of big, powerful airplanes. But I realized that part of the reason I think that is because I think of climb rate. To put this in perspective, the Piper Cherokee I usually fly has a climb rate of about 440 feet per minute (fpm) at 4000 feet, which is about what mountain passes require around here. At 4000 feet, a Piper Cherokee Six (the little Cherokee I fly, but scaled up a bit), probably has a climb rate over 1000 fpm. That's good, and that'd make me feel comfortable flying through the mountains -- if things go wrong, shove that throttle forward and climb out to air that's free of things like clouds and rock.

The thing is, if I put that Jabiru 3300 engine in a Celebrity, it would climb like a kicked mule. It'd probably top 1500 fpm at sea level, and be above 1000 fpm at 4000 feet. All that wing plus a generous dose of HP and low weight means you can go up fast.

So mountain flying doesn't actually mean big plane. It means plane that can climb well. The Celebrity would score well on that scale.

That isn't remotely all there is to it, though. That's just one of the factors which occurred to me. I probably wouldn't want to do any serious mountain flying without a much more significant investment in instruments than the Celebrity will allow, among other things. It's just an interesting thought.

The bottom line is that the Celebrity is right for a few things, even most of the flying I'd want to do. But it may well fall down when it comes time to pack a 6' 2" friend into the passenger seat. I'll just have to see one in person. Anyone have a Celebrity I can come see in person?

Posted at 13:59 permanent link category: /aviation

Mon, 14 Aug 2006

The first vestiges... it might be real

I've taken the first ominous step towards making the biplane project real. I've put up a web page about it.

Yep. I'm doomed.

Posted at 16:39 permanent link category: /aviation

Fri, 11 Aug 2006

The EAA meeting

I attended the monthly EAA Chapter 26 meeting last night. It was pretty interesting, and as I suspected, I've found another old-rich-white-man hobby. (That's not an insult, the people at this meeting were very friendly, and I felt like I fit pretty well with a number of them.)

There were a few presentations, some discussion, an impromptu dissertation on why fatal crashes are happening at Oshkosh (a very large fly-in event where they have to deal with lots and lots of air traffic), and finally a free-for-all after the meeting.

The presentations were interesting, being mostly pictures of airplanes. The first person to speak had a Kitfox which struck me for two reasons: first, it was on floats (the idea of flying with floats is intriguing to me); second, it had the coolest paint job I've seen in quite a while, with a Northwest Indian animal head painted on the cowling. When he got to a later picture with wheels on, the wheel fairings were painted in the same style with eagle claws. It was a very striking design. I was particularly interested, because I haven't yet decided anything about how I might paint my plane.

The next two presentations were pictures from the big Arlington fly-in, which I missed by a week. Of course, it's less than an hour up the freeway, so it would have been a fabulous and inspirational introduction to the whole homebuilding subject. Ah well, next year. One thing I saw which piqued my interest in those pictures was a biplane on floats. I didn't know people did that.

In the discussion afterwards, I was able to talk to a few people, and got some good information. That's why I came to the meeting, to meet other people who know more about this subject than I do.

I got three good tidbits of information. First, "limit the number of 'experimental' variables as much as possible: your freshly built airframe is experimental, so try to avoid having an experimental engine." Good thought, and it inclines me back towards the Continental O-200, which is a known-good engine, with millions of cumulative flying hours.

Next was the same guy asking why I wasn't considering the Jabiru engines. I replied that I thought they were horribly expensive, and he said, "nah, they cost about $14k, just like a bunch of other engines [including the radial R2800]." Ah-hah. So I went and looked, and the Jabiru 2200 actually looks pretty interesting. What is it with Aussies and airplane engines? (The same guy also guessed that I'd want an 80 HP motor, which I found interesting and worthy of note -- I'd been thinking 100 HP would be the more appropriate level, but there's a lot to be said for lighter weight. The Jabiru 2200 only weighs 132 lbs, vs. the 220 for a Corvair or R2800. That's a big difference.)

Finally, I got a recommendation from a new member to seek out George Kirkish for tailwheel instruction. He runs Vashon Island Air, which despite its name operates out of Boeing Field. He has a couple of Piper Cubs and a Maule, all of which he uses for training. I think if it'll lift us, there's no way I can pass up doing training in a Cub. I've got that set to go in later September, after my theatrical schedule calms down a bit.

So, hooray for progress. Of course, now I want to build a plane more than ever.

Posted at 08:40 permanent link category: /aviation

Categories: all aviation gadgets misc motorcycle theater

Written by Ian Johnston. Software is Blosxom. Questions? Please mail me at reaper at obairlann dot net.