Well, I didn't figure y'all would be all that interested in my non-Warbird related adventures, but judging by the posts some of you have made on the B-24 thread, I reckon I better give y'all an update before I start getting nastygrams from everyone.
I made it to Syracuse, KS early on Wednesday afternoon. I started doing the condition inspection to the airplane right away, which didn't really take all that long. Here's what the airplane looks like, so that y'all can have a picture in your head while reading the rest of this.....
The biggest trouble we had was trying to balance the prop. When you turn 3500 rpm or more (can't give away all of the race secrets, you know
), you need a propeller that's pretty well balanced. My mentor, Dusty Dowd, who is responsible for me getting the opportunity to race at Reno, has had a very interesting history with air racing and has personally had three props come apart in his career....one catastrophically. So he was very addamant about me having a properly torqued and balanced prop before I took it away. Unfortunately, we fried his very expensive prop balancer (for dynamic balancing) in the process, so we weren't able to get the prop as tuned in as we'd hoped for. I'll get it balanced here, but in the mean time, I'm keeping the rpm limited to a mere 3100.
It was around 10 p.m. that night before I got the airplane buttoned back up. I had yet to fly it and only had about 2 hours or so in a Cassutt previously, so I planned on getting up in the morning and squeezing some orientation flights in before I blasted off to Midland.
If you couldn't tell from the previous pictures, the airplane is tiny. I'm a tiny fella myself (except for the whole obesity thing), and I'm a tight fit in it. The seat in this particular airplane is nothing less than torturous. As soon as I sat in it, I felt as if I'd been placed in one of those Medieval pain machines that had the big spikes on it to give someone accupunture...the old fashioned way.
Just in the time it took to warm up the airplane, do the run up, and taxi onto the runway, my left foot was already asleep. I figured I could simply readjust myself when airborne, so I just continued on.
Well, the first flight went well. The airplane stalls at 70 mph and gives plenty of warning. When the stall is imminent, you simply release the back pressure and it's flying again. Aerobatics in the airplane is quite easy as well, as the controls are very Pitts-like, if not slightly more sensitive. The roll rate is slower than a Pitts, but still comes around fairly well. Point rolls and other inverted flight must be kept positive, or the engine will stop, as it has no inverted system. The primary thing to watch during acro is when you've got the nose pointed downhill, you better start easing the throttle back and start loading it up. This airplane is quite "clean" aerodynamically and builds up speed quite fast.
The end of the flight was uneventful, except for the fact that it was done with not only my left foot asleep, but up to my left calf as well. Something HAD to be done about that seat! Anyway, I did several landings, including a couple of simulated engine out practices. This airplane is a bit easier to land than a Pitts, and is every bit as sensitive with the rudder on the ground, if not more. Over controlling it would be the most likely cause of a ground incident, in my opinion.
Anyway, sorry for the long-winded description here. I'll fast forward to the cross country flight.
I had to sit out some less than desireable weather in the Kansas area after my intro flights in the airplane, so that was a perfect time to tinker with that stinkin' seat. I was able to find and steal.....I mean....uh....acquisition, a cushion from one of Dusty's chairs that he had in the hangar. It's got a pretty flowery design on it, so now my airplane is a reeeeeal chick magnet.
Once all of the local weather reporting places reported that the weather was okee-dokee, I decided to blast off. It's been a while since my last cross country flight in anything, much less something like this. Many moons ago, I had a harrowing cross country flight in a single seat Pitts that was certainly one of the closest events I've had to hitting the ground. It happened because I trusted the weather reports that were given to me AND the fact that I continued into it even when it was obviously getting worse, but that's a whole other story that can be discussed some other time. The point is that I'd obvoiusly forgotten that just because automated weather reports and even reports given by real life human beings say that "it's improving," doesn't mean it's true. I sort of ran into that situation yesterday. I won't say how bad it got (because it wasn't
really all that bad), but it was marginal VFR. The biggest thing is that the prop on the airplane is wood, with no metal leading edge, so flying through the rain isn't good for it at all. The rain becomes sort of like a sand blaster, and will simply ruin a good prop if you fly through it long enough, fast enough, and with enough rpm. Fortunately, I was only in the rain for a few moments and did no damage to the prop whatsoever. Here's a picture of the idiot in action (and no, I didn't fly through that cloud. I went around it and stayed VFR...albeit barely.)........
One thing funny about that little rain episode was that we had just put a little air vent in the windshield of the airplane before I initially flew it. Dusty asked me if I could feel the air coming in during my intro flights, but I just told him I was so scared that I didn't notice it. Anyway, believe me when I tell you I noticed it in the rain! It was moderate rain outside...light rain inside.
It was like one of those shower heads in a Motel 6.......just enough to annoy you, but not enough to get you soaking wet.
Anyway, it was only a few minutes before I was out of the crud and able to get some altitude to keep on cruising........
I have right about three hours of range in this airplane and I wanted to make it to Midland non-stop. But after an hour in the thing, I was starting to wish I was somewhere else. I tried to move around and readjust myself, but there's just not the room for it in this thing. Besides that, everytime you even flinch, the airplane responds by making wallowing around radically and doing it's best to make me air sick. It was starting to work. Here I am while still relatively my "natural" color and not completely miserable. (Looks kind of funny with the way the canopy enclosure is, huh?).....
After two hours in the thing, I was ready to fill up my nomex gloves with the glass of water and the single Hershey's Kiss that I had for breakfast. My GPS antenna had just lost the screws that hold it to it's base, so I was having to hold it up to the canopy by hand, and later found a way to wrap it around the fuel tank filler neck as a temporary measure. I had enough at this point and decided to land at Plainview, TX, just north of Lubbock. I attempted to call them on my brand-freakin'-new handheld radio, and it had apparently taken a dump. Plainview is a non-controlled airport and there was no traffic whatsoever, so landing there was a nonevent. The FBO folks were friendly, but I got the feeling they felt sorry for me as I kept seeing them shake their heads in disbelief. Anyhow, I drank some more water, walked around for a bit, and got my tummy to feeling good enough to continue on to Midland.
Now, Midland International Airport is obviously a controlled field. So, I had made previous arrangements with them and obtained permission to fly the airplane in, even though it had no transponder. The problem now was that I also had no radio. So I called them on the phone before departing Plainview to see if they'd just shoot me the green light from the tower to let me land. They asked if I'd just land at Midland Airpark (only 5 miles or so from International) first and call them on the phone from there. "Roger, wilco" and all that stuff. I hand propped the little Cassutt and blasted off, heading South.
It was only about 50 minutes or so before I got to Midland Airpark, but I was already waaaaaay past being bored (which you probably are as well, huh?). One thing I noticed during my boredom was that I had taken this airplane past it's 1,000th hour of total time. Nothing groundbreaking, but it at least warranted a picture.
.........
I made it to Airpark with no other issues. After landing, I left the airplane running and made the call to Midland tower on my cell phone. They said to get there ASAP, which I did. I reckon it only took two to three minutes to get there. I never saw the green light from the tower, but proceeded with the landing as per the instructions given to me by the tower chief on the phone. They made me land on 16R, since it wasn't being used by other landing traffic at the time. The reason it wasn't being used by them was because the winds were 230 at 13, gusting to 17. For those who don't know what that means....I had a honkin' crosswind for this little airplane! But you know, it ended up being no big deal at all. Nelson Ezell used to tell me, when describing landing conditions such as this, "It's just a dumb piece of metal...make it do what YOU want IT to do." And of course, he was right. The landing was a cinch and I taxied off the runway at the first turnoff.
Now, just when the hangars come into view from the taxiway and I think I'm nearly done with this adventure, more bad luck. While on the taxiway, I had to cross the active runway that everyone else was using. The tower chief hadn't briefed this part to me, and I dang sure didn't want to just assume that it was clear for me to cross. So I waited. I figured the tower would've shot the green light towards me, but I never saw it. I waited for a spell, and then noticed that no other airplanes on the airport were moving, so they must be waiting on me to get over to the hangar area. So after looking hard for other traffic, I decided to go ahead and cross. The problem was that the engine had loaded up while just sitting there and as soon as I advanced the throttle, it quit.
After a few choice words (that they probably heard in the tower), I took my helmet off, unbuckled, grabbed my chock, and ran outside to prop the airplane. Now, this thing normally starts right up. I'd cranked it several times up to this point and it's never taken more than three blades to get it started.....until now. I guarantee you that I swung that S.O.B. at least twenty times before I could get the b*tch running. It was just slightly over idle rpm (only about 700 rpm or so), but the taxiway there was so smooth, that when I removed the chock, the airplane started slowly creeping forward. I ran around the wing and jumped head first into the cockpit to reduce the throttle. It wasn't as scary as it may sound, but it was definitely embarrassing.
Naturally, when I made my way back into the cockpit, I looked up to the tower to finally see a freakin' green light shining towards me to cross. I simply cannot imagine how hard those folks in the tower were laughing at me.
Anyway, I finally got the airplane put to bed. The folks at the High Sky Wing are being generous enough to allow me to keep it in their hangar until I can find the time to clear the "stuff" I've got stored in mine. Here it is in it's new temporary home. Notice it's size, compared to the T-6 and the PT-19..........
So that's how it went. Sorry for the long winded story, but remember......you asked for it!
Y'all have a great night.
Gary
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Any plans for installing a tiny little tailgunner position? Sorry, just had to say it lol...
