First Flight

Son Number One’s birthday was celebrated by going flying along with his wife and for his first flight-my grandson! First time up for the little guy and he did great aside from problems associated with an adult headset on a two year old noggin. We arrived just as low ceilings and mists were burning off, soon to be replaced by bright blue sky.

It’s intimidating when you walk out on the ramp at only two and a half feet tall. There were jets and light airplanes blasting off. The control tower loomed large overhead and in front of us: The B-17 Liberty Belle. One of only a dozen of these huge bombers remains airworthy. Machine guns bristled out of the fuselage and the Flying Fortress still looks like she’s ready for a fight. Photo snaps all around and I was inpressed by the courage of the men who flew the risky missions over Europe with low probablity of surviving the required 25 missions. B017 rides would be available but today we would be travelling in something a bit more modest.

I vowed this flight would not be a repeat of what happened last time. The oldest son was on board when we encountered turbulence ending his aerial adventures. That was nine years ago so if it wasn’t perfect I would do only a couple jaunts around the pattern. I didn’t want another decade to tick by ‘til we tried again. Upon climbing out I was relieved to find smooth air. Small puffs of clouds drifted by and began to vanish altogether. The patchwork farmland faded into the distance after ten miles. Too much excitement would be unwelcome so nary a lazy eight or steep turn would be on the menu.

I think about flying when I’m not flying. There are other interests to be sure but none that have the adventure, challenge and sometimes G-loaded fun of aviation. If you can share it with family and friends, even better.

So it all ended up quite well. Everyone had a good time and who knows?
Maybe the grandson might want a turn at the controls someday.

The Need for Speed

The L-29 Delfin would prove to be the most complicated plane I had flown, even though simple by military standards. The addition of a turbojet and more advanced hydraulic and pneumatic systems would be a departure from the basic systems in a Seminole. The plane was pressurized but unnecessary at low altitudes. Ejection seats were disarmed despite warning signs to the contrary. Most jet warbirds have disabled the seats due to the additional inspections and certifications required. The emergency backup plan involved seat parachutes. First jettison the canopy, release the seat harness then roll the aircraft inverted to free fall with the intent of not striking the T-tail. These chutes had a conventional D-ring to pull assuming, of course, there is sufficient altitude. Otherwise the only choice is a forced landing inside an aircraft with the glide ratio of a manhole cover.

The Delfin was developed by Czechoslovakia for the Soviet Air Force. While designed as a training aircraft, it served as an attack airplane for a number of countries including Egypt in the Yom Kippur War. A weapons release button is located on the stick along with the speed brake selector. Czechoslovakia inherited much of Germany's aviation technology after WWII and was best positioned to develop aeronautical designs when it became a satellite of the USSR. Aero Vodochody built the first production models in 1963 with production lasting another 11 years, before transitioning to the L-39. Of the 3,000 L-29s built, there are only about 50 of them still flying.





Most of the instrumentation is in Cyrillic. My Russian was rusty at the moment so it was handy that the previous aircraft owner took pains to label that which was not obvious and somewhat important with English subtitles. Metric pressure and temperature gauges required additional translation (at least for me) and I had the pilot operating handbook (POH) for help. Caution and warning notices filled the POH. Some were common sense: “Too much back pressure will extend take off roll and the ability to remain airborne is doubtful”. Not encouraging but yep - I get that. Some were not so obvious: Warnings for asymmetric flaps, airstarts and engine fire. The back up hydraulics for emergency flaps and gear were a nice touch. The idea of flying a plane built in 1969 in Eastern Europe was somewhat offset by it's excellent safety record and the fact that jet engines are way more reliable than the reciprocating kind I usually fly.

The engine start button is located behind the throttle. After flipping on the battery, powering up the intercom and avionics, setting up the com/nav radios, testing the fire detection system and caution light panel, the canopies are closed before starting the engine. The engine slowly spools up, the faint whine developing into a muffled roar. Idle is at 35% of max rpm. Older turbojets are noisy affairs as evidenced by some onlookers with hands cupped over their ears. Frankly, it sounded terrific. It’s capable of producing 1,950 pounds of static thrust with a maximum operating RPM rating of about 15,300. Since a fully loaded plane is around 8,000 pounds it has a relatively low power-to-weight ratio. With its pressurized cockpit, max altitude is 36,100 feet, and maximum operating speed is generally in the range of 350 knots. Range is 555 miles, or about 2 hours of flight. It’s not meant for cross country travel.



It only takes 2,000 feet from brake-release to rotation. Climbout is a modest 2,000 feet / minute. Pretty docile. However, it has a nice roll rate and was able to put out 5g’s in the loop. I wonder if anyone was watching the show as the plane roared and wheeled around the sky. Not as nimble as the Extra, which has an aileron the length of it’s wing, but it exudes power. Some think it has an ungainly appearance. Not me. While not as sleek as the L-39, it still looks like a fighter. The canopy affords a terrific view of the horizon which stretches out forever, blurred at the edges by afternoon haze. Before long, it’s time to head back but first a call in to the tower for a low pass for our viewing audience. I know it must be loud but you can’t tell from inside the jet. After circling the field, the Delfin decended down the glide path until it touching down at about 90 knots, using about 4000 feet before taxing to the ramp. Any flying is great. Flying the Delfin is an absolute blast. Hard to imagine U.S.S.R. pilots actually got paid for the stick time.

Blackhawk Renowned

My brother was at the controls this afternoon as we entered downwind for the East/West runway as instructed by tower. To our surprise, a UH-60 Blackhawk crossed our path at the same altitude for a landing to the North. We altered course. It wasn't close but it would have been if we hadn't been scanning for traffic. The tower controller was new and let us know about the chopper after the fact. Always keep your head on a swivel in the pattern.

We tied down and headed over to the FBO for permission to approach the aircraft. Not only did I get the OK to snap some photos but Sergeant Niesen walked out with us to give a short guided tour which was much appreciated.

While the interior was not appointed like a Gulfstream, it was better than the UH-1 Huey brother-in-law Ted flew in Vietnam. The cockpit is complicated.

The men from the Wisconsin National Guard (147th Command Aviation Battalion, I think) were great. I told the colonel we enjoyed a close up view of his impressive machine at 1,600' MSL . He thanked us for not hitting it, which of course, we were happy to oblige. The guys even invited us to have a close look inside saying: "You paid for it". It would have been nice to take it for a spin but these soldiers needed to high tail it back to Madison after spending the day training.


My brother, (On right) is my twin and, as you can see, he's a great looking guy. (Sorry, never get tired of that line.)

Good men in the service of our country. I hope we run into them again.



On the ground.
PS: Sergeant Niesen motioned for me to run to the chopper as the tubines were winding up with everyone strapped inside to go. "What's the name of your blog" he shouted above the engine noise, rotors spinning . I scribbled the URL hastily on some scrap paper and he jammed it into his pocket. Thanks for showing us around Sergeant and e-mail me if you'd want the photos!

What Izzit?

Bleg


Came across this beast whilst picking through the boneyards at the Planes of Fame Musuem in Valle, AZ. Obviously a jet of some such but with wooden fuselage. America's first jet fighter was the Airacomet. It's not close to that but it does have a round control stick like the British Fairey .


Anyone know the Name of the Plane at the Planes of Fame?

Something's Got to Give

Many of us that fly use the “system”. We depend on Air Traffic Control (ATC) to get us in one piece to our destination, providing vectors and altitudes en route and additional sequencing and separation at towered fields. It requires an instrument rating and certain currency requirements. but the added safety is worth the effort.

Hundreds of thousands of passengers depend on the pilots who depend on the controllers every day. Guys like me, who don’t fly “big iron”, get the same help as a 747. That’s because two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. So there are published airways, departure procedures and published approaches. Sometimes things may get off track due to equipment problems. ATC has come to my rescue, on more than one occasion, and has kept many others from having a very bad day. There’s procedures for lost radio contact in IFR situations, but that's a tough place to be in. The voice on the other end of the line is reassuring when in the goo.

ATC certainly saved the day last April when a King Air pilot was incapacitated. Most are knowledgeable and helpful. A few are obnoxious and rude. Regardless, in the air, they are the traffic cops and you follow their speeds and directions. You can deviate if it compromises safety but be prepared for a friendly chat with the FAA . On balance, these folks are great.

The terminal radar control (TRACON) areas are probably the most frenetic but there are plenty of class B & C tower controllers and air route traffic controllers (ARTCC) that really earn their pay.

For a great write up of life in the fast lane in one of the busiest airspaces you should check this New York times story:” Something’s got to Give “. You’ll probably be as amazed. Meet Jughead, The Wheel and Doctor Freeze. Find out why a “deal” is anything but. I can only wonder at the environment that seems both art and science that amazingly works every day.

h/t to Dan for the story

Stella Potential

This lawsuit may be eligible for a Stella Award:

Once again, I'm astounded as to how the airplane manufacturer is to blame.

A Minnesota jury has found that though the pilot was 25 percent negligent in the January, 2003, fatal crash of an SR-22 that killed him and a passenger near Hill City, Minn., Cirrus and the University of North Dakota were 75 percent negligent.

...and yet The NTSB's factual report states the pilot requested an abbreviated briefing for the flight noting that conditions at the departure airport were 2,800 feet overcast and that he was "hoping to slide underneath it then climb out." So the weather was admittedly not ideal and the pilot elected to fly in conditions that required advanced training. His sign off provided Visual flight rules only.

Prokop was given a VFR-only completion certificate and high performance endorsement limited to the SR-22 upon his completion of the course.

I will repeat something I've said before: Almost every NTSB accident report ends with the conclusion -”pilot error”. We are responsible for our safety and the safety of others. Flying has inherent risk and we seek to manage it.

I have rented aircraft in other areas of the country after a check ride from the FBO. However, if I were to violate conditions established in writing that led to an incident, how could they be responsible? I don’t mean to marginalize the anguish of losing a loved one but someone should explain how the aircraft manufacturer is at fault.

Traveling in aircraft at speeds and altitudes that are at once both lethal is inherent to the activity. An aircraft on the ramp is safe but it's not designed for that purpose. Stella Liebeck initially won $2.9M for spilling hot coffee in her lap but hot coffee is supposed to be , well....hot. "Are the people involved ..using the courts to redress justifiable grievances that can't otherwise be settled? Or are they trying to extort money from anyone they can? Are the lawyers involved champions of justice? ...Or are they helping to abuse the system in the name of getting a piece of the action?"

You be the judge.

Nothing Like it in the World

It was one of the best things you could ever do with a plane. Flying over the Grand Canyon was something I’d thought about for years. Even better than flying for two hours over spectacular scenery, is sharing the experience with the family aboard, which was rare indeed.



After the flight from Chicago, we drove to the Sedona, Arizona airport (KSEZ) the day before takeoff, checking in at the fixed base operation (FBO) that was to rent the plane. It was located at 5,000 feet on top of a Mesa overlooking the city. Tall peaks nearby promised to play havoc with gusts and crosswinds. Once inside, “Mister Curmudgeon” (MC) looked up at me from behind his desk.
Me: “Good morning! Can I confirm that I’m on the schedule first thing tomorrow.”

MC: (Looking at the schedule) ”Might be windy. Are you all good flyers? It can get real bumpy and we’ve had people get sick”

Me: “We’ll be fine. What can we expect for cross winds up here?.”

MC: “They can be really bad. Look at the runway. You’ll see skid marks everywhere. We probably have a mishap every month, and that’s with pilots who have experience here.”

Me: (Feeling less confident but trying to sound unconcerned) What kind of mishaps?”

MC:” Sometimes planes blow a tire when they bounce off the runway. Or do a ground loop. We had one nose over. We’re up pretty high so you don’t want to go off the end.


Me: “Uh-huh. That’s why you advertise this as the USS. Sedona? Looks like an aircraft carrier at altitude?"


MC: "Yup. Have experience with high altitude flying? The planes and engines operate differently."


Me: “Thanks , yes- look forward to seeing you tomorrow... ”
That was inspiring…

The following day was perfect. Winds calm. A cool, bright blue-sky morning. We started with preflight of the stout but dependable Cessna 206 Stationair outfitted with the Lycoming IO-540. Constant speed prop , 300 horsepower, six seats and a high wing. Perfect for the mission, which would include hundreds of photos.

At the hold short line I noticed planes were departing both directions and landing opposite of our take off. This was due to light winds, to be sure, but the runway also sloped downward. It made sense to land uphill and takeoff down the slope, wind permitting. After a brief run-up, I executed a short field takeoff. The runway was 5,120 feet but that was standard procedure here, especially when the density altitude began to creep up as summer temperatures kicked in.

Soon we were circling over the red rock peaks of Sedona. It was stunning. With a good sized engine, we were lucky to eek out a 400 foot rate of climb as I leveled off at 7,500. At higher altitudes, manifold pressure can exceed the RPM so I set it to 25mp and 1700 RPM’s as recommended. The crucial part of altitude flying is to lean the mixture so as to not foul the engine and increase power. Normally it's a slight “rich of peak” cylinder head temperature in the flat lands of Illinois. Here I was fixated on the key digital instrument that measured exhaust gas temperatures with a target of 1,340 degrees (lean of peak). It would require constant adjustment as we went higher.

After passing Flagstaff to the west I continued climbing to cross the mountains. The San Francisco Peaks soar to 12,633 feet and serve as one of the most distinct features of the Colorado Plateau. Named in honor of St. Francis of Assisi by the Spanish Friars in the 1620's, The Peaks include six summits that circle the caldera of the now quiet volcano. 9,500 feet would suffice thorough the pass. As I approached, the smooth air became washboard alley. Once through, it was back to normal as we crossed over a series of “cinder cones”. They look like little volcanoes. The hardened magma flow had spilled everywhere, evidence of a violent past.



Huge creases appeared in the flat plains ahead. It was the Little Colorado River. First thought: X-wing into the Death Star trench. It lasted only a few seconds. Best to keep the license and not deviate the required altitude of 10,500. This was special use air space. We followed the meandering smaller canyon until it opened wide. There before us was The Magnificent Grand Canyon. Part of it anyway. It’s over 260 miles long and as wide as 26 miles. The word “Awesome” was invented for this. It’s beyond huge. I had a big goofy smile on my face as the plane floated from Mesa to Butte to Plateau with the Colorado River more than a mile below. It just doesn’t get any better than this.

Later that week, I went rock climbing one day, and rappelled into a slot canyon the next with sons #2 & #3. Hard work for an old guy. Shopping with the wife was looking like a good option. Almost. Some of the pictures are here. (Best viewed clicking on slideshow)

Flying in the mid west will never be the same.

Flying Through a Thunderstorm

Not recommended....

Air Force planes had found a long line of debris in the ocean off of Brazil's north east coast, confirming prior sightings of wreckage and the destruction of Air France Flight 447. No survivors have been found. The plane, with 228 people on board, disappeared nearly four hours after having left Rio de Janeiro airport on Sunday night. The jetliner had been flying through heavy storms and turbulence.

A tragedy that will lead to questions about advanced on board weather detection and new safety limits. It made me wonder since I'd just flown in an A330 a few days ago.

Lt. Col. Bill Rankin learned as well how dangerous storms can be: He was flying an F-8 jet over a thunderstorm when the engine stalled, forcing him to eject and parachute into the cloud. (From the book: The Man Who Rode the Thunder)

The temperature was −50°C and he ejected at 6:00 pm. He managed to use his emergency oxygen supply. Five minutes after he left the plane, his parachute still hadn't opened. Finally, in the upper regions of the thunderstorm, with zero visibility, the parachute opened. After ten minutes, when he normally would have already landed, Rankin was still in the air, being carried by updrafts and getting hit with hailstones. Violent spinning caused him to vomit. Next there was lightning, which he described as blue blades several feet thick, and thunder, which he could feel as well as hear. Heavy rain forced him to hold his breath to keep from drowning. One lightning bolt lit up the parachute, making Rankin believe he had died. After conditions subsided, he descended into a forest. His watch read 6:40 pm. He suffered from frostbite welts, bruises, and severe decompression but survived.

“There is no reason to fly through a thunderstorm in peacetime.”
 – Sign over Squadron Ops desk at Davis-Monthan AFB, AZ, 1970.