Nothing to report regarding the Fairchild, but I spent 4 very busy days at Vintage Wings, finally getting the chance to fly the Hurricane.
It's hard to believe, but I had carte blanche last year to fly it, and couldn't arrange for it to happen. Getting together -- all in one place -- a serviceable airplane, instructor, weather, and the time free, just never happened. (Mind you, being on the road for a month with Yellow Wings was good fun too.) It's hard to understand, but that's the pace of some of these old-airplane summers...
Suiting up, outside the cockpit, so that the straps don't tangle up.

Anyway, we've had work done on that Merlin -- it's a post-war -500 out of a Casa 2111 -- and it is SMOOOOOTH... I hate to say it, but it was smoother than the Allison. Started easily and purred...


The airplane is a bit funky. It flies quite nicely when it's cleaned up. The ailerons are nicer than I expected, and it rolls well, although not as well as the P-40. But it isn't fast. It seems to want to cruise at about 160 kts. And when you dive for a bit of speed to begin aeros, it takes a more nose-down attitude, for longer, to get the entry speeds.

But of course it's impossible not to look out at that wing, and those cannons, and the roundel, and not be thrilled!

Landing is weird. The huge split flaps, which extend nearly straight down, almost blank out the elevators, and if you pull the power to idle so that the prop becomes a disc, the elevators hardly work at all. Thus you must keep a trickle of power on all the time, but that's extremely hard to manipulate because the throttle tension is atrocious -- it's both very very stiff, and yet it creeps! (Known, common Hurricane fault.) On my first flight I never did sort it out. The throttle ended up too much or too little, each time causing the nose to pop up or down, and I landed on the pavement like a jumping bean. Fortunately the gear is quite forgiving, and the aircraft tends to roll straight. Very kind of it, really, to look after me so well.

On my second landing, next day, I wound all the tension off, tried to remember to re-set it if I to do a go-around, got into a groove, and rode it down onto a wheel-landing that squeaked-on in the approved ego-stroking fashion.
Very windy cockpit. I was glad to have the goggles on my helmet -- I used them. (You can see what my instructor, the illustrious Rob Erdos, refers to as the "Merlin Grin".)

And then, once parked, just in case I was ever likely to forget soloing a Hurricane, the occasion was made wetly memorable.

Dave