rottydaddy
En-Route
A few months ago I discovered the excellent International Cessna 120/140 Association and their website and forums... started posting there asking questions and mentioned that I was thinking about buying a 140. Got some very good (if mixed) feedback about flying this type in IMC, but also got some very generous offers to come fly members' airplanes.
The closest is N72619, owned by Robert, a CFI and corporate pilot who keeps it at Danville Airport, about 2.5 hrs away from me by car.
That's a bit of a drive, but it seemed a good opportunity to actually fly a 140 before getting too caught up in purchasing one. Plus, it would be a chance to log some much-needed time in type, which would be needed to insure my own plane, for just my share of the fuel cost (plus about $20 worth of fuel for my car).
Woke before dawn and hit the road by 0630, hoping to get there around 0900. I did arrive more or less on time, but neither of us had counted on the typical morning fog lingering quite so long, so we had some time to kill before we could go up.
The ship was still in the hangar, with a small ceramic heater perched inside the open cowl and a blanket on top. He also keeps a trickle charger on the battery, as it often takes a while for the plane's generator to top it off. I looked her up and down, realizing that despite what I do know about planes in general, without a mechanic by my side I could not possibly make a decisive inspection as a potential buyer.
But it didn't matter- he'd mentioned it was possibly for sale, but between the price (high-ish, but very reasonable for an overhauled engine with only 300 hrs on it), the VFR-only panel, and the fact that said engine is only a C85 with a venturi-driven vac system, I had already ruled it out almost completely.
She sure looked swell, though- all unpainted except for green trim stripes. Even unpolished it looked very fine.
-see photos in the Gallery-
I did note with some dismay that the baggage area behind the seats, although generous and rated for 80 lbs or so, would not quite do as a seat for Peg. She could probably curl up back there and sleep, but wouldn't enjoy it, most likely. Maybe with a booster cushion under her and the "hat tray" removed, she could peer out.... hard to say.
And wrassling that old dog in and out of there would be a job!!
But no matter- taking Peg on flights in my own plane before she passes on would be wonderful, but not a high priority.
As our wait lengthened, R. suggested we go over to the FBO hangar and warm up in the classroom while I looked over the plane's logs.
Again, I realized I had no idea, really, what I was looking for. But the entries- all the way back to "Day 1" in the late 1940s- looked pretty thorough. He showed me an NTSB record he'd dredged up about the only known accident with this bird: a nasty ground loop in 1971 on a wet runway. "Damage: substantial"; "nose down", it said.
Clearly the right struts were repaired,and probably the wingtip, but there's no mention of it in the log, which has a 4-year(!) gap between a routine maintenance stop a few months before the mishap and the next entry, which describes an annual.
Hmmmm... I'm new at this, but that smells fishy to me.
Which is not to malign the present owner- he was very up-front about it. He's tried to find out more, but has nothing other than the NTSB printout. And the plane's been annualled many times and the engine was overhauled since then... so it seems unlikely there's a nasty surprise lurking in that airframe or engine.
Finally, the sun muscled its way through the scattered clouds and burned up some of the fog, so we got the plane ready to fly. He told me to take the left seat, and warned me that it had a "heavy" right wing... a rigging problem that he's been trying to have corrected for some time. I don't remember now if it has any correlation to the repairs done or not, or if he's even sure about that.
I didn't care. I was so eager to finally fly a 140 I was in a kind of dreamlike daze... ever been absorbed in anticipation for so long that the fulfillment of your desire is a sort of shock?
So... there I was, hauling myself into a cabin that at first reminded me of my old friends the C-150 and 152. No surprise there- I knew that the early 150 has almost precisely the same cabin section- in fact, some 140 owners have had 150 doors and seats mounted with little hassle or paperwork.
But the view... hmmm... offhand I'd say "not as good as a Champ, not as bad as a Cub... somewhere in between." Different. However,the curved glareshield makes up for the attitude- you can see quite a bit out those lower corners on either side.
Once the very strong C-85 coughed itself awake and we started rolling along Danvilles' bewildering taxiways (another story in itself), I found it was very easy for me to peer over the nose and not have to s-turn. A little rubbernecking was all that was required. Only big blind spot was the right tire, which would be hidden even without someone in the right seat. I can see why the later A models with "patroller" doors are highly prized.
I lucked out getting my first ride with Robert, I think:he was very happy to let me taxi on my own and make the take-off.
Of course he gave me valuable pointers, but showed no anxiety about letting me control his baby, even though he never actually looked at my credentials.
And get this- the hull is not insured!! huh?
He has a liability policy, under which I can fly but not solo the plane (not enough time in type), but if it were to be damaged... no insurance payout.
I was surprised, but he pointed out that "if I wreck it or whatever the insurance company'll never pay out what it's worth or enough to rebuild it... should be worth quite a bit as recyclable aluminum, though."
Never thought of it that way, but it makes sense. Certainly not true of every plane, but probably true of this classic, which has been very lucky to survive recent decades of ADs and dwindling support that has banished others to that parking spot off by the fence, if you know what I mean. A 140 is still a terrific buy these days, but... not for very long, I'm afraid.
My feet were still a bit un-acclimated to the pedals, which are similar to other Cessnas but not quite the same, but I stopped riding the brakes in time to start the takeoff roll. There was no wind to speak of, although it was clearly SW at about 6 knots just above pattern altitude, judging from the L-shaped plumes of smoke from nearby stacks. He had me put in one notch of flaps (there are two very stubborn schools of thought about flaps in the world of C-140 owners), but if they did anything at all I can't say. R.'s direction for liftoff was to ease the tailwheel just off the ground when it felt ready, then hold that attitude for a sort of in-betweenish takeoff: not quite a "3-point" and not quite a "wheel".
In essence, the C140 will fly at about the same speed that the tail will fly. This, as far as I can tell, is a very, very desirable trait in a taildragger. As long as you don't let it drift.
With two grown men and nearly-full tanks, not to mention the metallized wings (which add 23 pounds to the original weight), we got off the runway in about 600 feet with no wind. With a newb at the controls, mind you. Not bad.
Climb rate, when I peeked at it as we climbed out over dying patches of fog and low scud below a mid-level deck of cumulostratus and misty 5-mile visibilty, was about 600 fpm as we passed through 2000.
I was hoping R. would have a suggestion as to where to go (don't know the area and visibilty was poor), but he just said "whatever you wanna do", so I decided what I wanted to do was just get a feel for the hardest maneuver- flying straight and level with some precision- and see what she could do.
She could do 120 mph indicated at less than 80% power, for one thing... man, was I surprised! Of course, conditions were quite good-dampish but very cold- but still, I didn't expect to see over 100mph. Strong engine, and just out of the woods as far as the "hidden pitfalls after break-in" thing goes...it'll take a long time to rack up 1500 more hours in this thing; I hope the airframe is still in one piece when it's time for the overhaul.
Again, it's not the 140 I want, but that engine almost got me thinking...
The tendency to roll right was negligible- I could easily grip the funny little yoke in such a way as to relax and still have sufficient aileron in to correct it... but of course there was no way I'd be able to fly IFR in something with such a habit.I could tell, though, and R. confirmed it, that in good rig a 140 will trim hands-off even better than a 150... other than the "heavy wing" it was very solid. The rudder is extremely effective; all I had to do was think about moving my feet and the control was right there, just the right amount.
I elected to sort of follow the Susquehanna River a ways, and as we passed over the next airport upriver, Bloomsburg, R. keyed the mic and called out on the Unicom frequency to a friend who was there.
"Where are you?" his friend asked.
"Look up".
This reminded me that I hadn't done much with the plane, so I hauled her over into a 45-degree bank and looped around the airport, in case R.'s friend was actually outside looking up, then headed more or less back the way we came. N72619 rolled smartly, with little adverse yaw. My turn was fairly tight, but I could tell she'd come around much tighter if necessary. and the big skylights in the overhead provide a good view of the inside of the turn, if you bank enough.
I just kept going, lazily following the river, gently turning and trying to see what sort of posture worked best (seats are not adjustable). I caught myself hunching a few times, but if I leaned back and relaxed it seemed very comfy, although my left elbow seemed to say "Cripes! this is worse than a 150!"
R. went on and on about the area, the plane, and his plans for his next plane... all the while playing the Friendly Instructor very well: spotting traffic, offering little pointers, etc.
He started talking about the stall characteristics, so I said "want to demonstrate one?"
He dismissed that with "no, you go ahead and do one... enter the same way as with any Cessna."
I did some clearing turns, then pulled the carb heat, reduced the power to about 1500, and waited. Took a while to slow down (we did it "clean"), and when it broke, as I held the nose at a fairly shallow pitch attitude, it was almost a non-event. I could see also that like a Cub, this is a plane that will most likely sink and wallow on you well before it stalls in a low-power mode, which is not really a bad thing.
I asked how high he'd flown N72619. and R. said about 8,500 once, just to try it... which is impressive with a fixed-mixture carb. Nominal cruise altitude is about 5500... which seems right, on a scale that includes the 150 and 172... which generally turn in the best speed-relative-to-consumption numbers at altitudes slightly above that.
I didn't climb that high, but I did make a wide climbing turn to 3000, and took us south of Danville, above a patchy-fog-shrouded ridge. Looking at a wall-like region of crud beyond that, I decided to turn around the promontory sticking out above the fog and head back.
Getting closer, I was way off my game... flubbed my initial callup because I realized I did not really know my position relative to the field... been years- ages! since I've done something that stupid!
Eventually I had a good plan laid out to enter downwind, but as I lowered the nose a tad without touching the throttle, R. said "Um. Might want to throttle back... watch the redline."
Sure enough, the needle, seen at a glance, had fooled me: the ASI is calibrated to 180 mph(!), but redline is 140, way down near the bottom of the gauge!! So much for "trend monitoring"...
I pulled the throttle back at about 139.
Rolling out on downwind, I seemed low. R. started tapping the altimeter. "Yep; it's doing it again... you're a little low."
Easy enough to pop up; we were still pretty hot. He told me to drop full flaps at the abeam point; the center lever comes up when you do this, so if you're not careful, you can jab your elbow with it when you work the throttle. I managed to avoid that fate, even when I drew the power all the way out on base as he advised.
I must say I prefer even this awkward lever to fumbling with some goofy little toggle switch and dreading all the things that can possibly go wrong with the electric flap system on later Cessnas.
"Flap handle"... it even sounds better.
Doggone if that airplane did just not want to come down... I was high as a kite on initial final. "Go ahead and slip her... foot to the firewall..." I tried, but almost could not bring myself to slip some strangers' antique airplane like that, with the trees looming... she slipped like a dream, dropping like a gleaming aluminum brick. I'm pretty sure she said "what a scaredy-cat!", too, as we whooshed in over the threshold, wing low.
I was very very thankful for the still, thick air as I coaxed her onto the centerline and eased into the flare... touchdown was only a bit rough, just this side of perfect... but I spoiled it by getting my feet all discombobulated (heel/toe-wise) while trying to brake after the rollout. We swerved a little, but nothing serious.
There was suddenly a lot of traffic on the taxiways... the day was shaping up nicely, and everyone was eager to get up there and make some use of their investments. We parked by the hangar, and as I deplaned a friend of R.'s who had his own hangar across the way, asked "well? What do you think?"
"I think... I think I like it!"
R. filled in my logbook and we spent some more time chatting about N72619, the flight, and flying in general... mostly taildraggers. His neighbor started telling me about his Aeronca Chief, so before leaving I took him up on his offer to show it to me.
It's no show-winner, but still a good ol' Aeronca. Very much like the Champ, but with some noticeable differences: side-by-side seats, for one, and a fascinating starter, which works much like that of a lawnmower or other 2-stroke, except instead of a pull rope there is a handle inside that one easily pulls to turn the C85 over a blade or two. He claimed it started faithfully every time- for him, at least. It's a clever little pair of rings mounted behind the spinner, which is why some Chiefs have that big spinner.
He told me he'd bought it from a 747 captain who decided he was leery of flying in something with no radios.
He also showed me the very minor damage that had been repaired after he lost a brake (beware those old Bendix drums) at a fly-in where others had parked too close to the grass runway... the Chief had veered into a parked Skyhawk.
According to him, the Cessna was "destroyed"- the wing, anyway- but his baby was easily repaired and is still flying.
Quite the character, this guy... he'd painted a Skyhawk silhouette on the cowling afterwards, as if a "kill mark"!
I had a long drive home ahead, so I reluctantly said my goodbyes and thank-yous, and left feeling very satisified...my suspicions have been confirmed: I really need a C-140!
The closest is N72619, owned by Robert, a CFI and corporate pilot who keeps it at Danville Airport, about 2.5 hrs away from me by car.
That's a bit of a drive, but it seemed a good opportunity to actually fly a 140 before getting too caught up in purchasing one. Plus, it would be a chance to log some much-needed time in type, which would be needed to insure my own plane, for just my share of the fuel cost (plus about $20 worth of fuel for my car).
Woke before dawn and hit the road by 0630, hoping to get there around 0900. I did arrive more or less on time, but neither of us had counted on the typical morning fog lingering quite so long, so we had some time to kill before we could go up.
The ship was still in the hangar, with a small ceramic heater perched inside the open cowl and a blanket on top. He also keeps a trickle charger on the battery, as it often takes a while for the plane's generator to top it off. I looked her up and down, realizing that despite what I do know about planes in general, without a mechanic by my side I could not possibly make a decisive inspection as a potential buyer.
But it didn't matter- he'd mentioned it was possibly for sale, but between the price (high-ish, but very reasonable for an overhauled engine with only 300 hrs on it), the VFR-only panel, and the fact that said engine is only a C85 with a venturi-driven vac system, I had already ruled it out almost completely.
She sure looked swell, though- all unpainted except for green trim stripes. Even unpolished it looked very fine.
-see photos in the Gallery-
I did note with some dismay that the baggage area behind the seats, although generous and rated for 80 lbs or so, would not quite do as a seat for Peg. She could probably curl up back there and sleep, but wouldn't enjoy it, most likely. Maybe with a booster cushion under her and the "hat tray" removed, she could peer out.... hard to say.
And wrassling that old dog in and out of there would be a job!!
But no matter- taking Peg on flights in my own plane before she passes on would be wonderful, but not a high priority.
As our wait lengthened, R. suggested we go over to the FBO hangar and warm up in the classroom while I looked over the plane's logs.
Again, I realized I had no idea, really, what I was looking for. But the entries- all the way back to "Day 1" in the late 1940s- looked pretty thorough. He showed me an NTSB record he'd dredged up about the only known accident with this bird: a nasty ground loop in 1971 on a wet runway. "Damage: substantial"; "nose down", it said.
Clearly the right struts were repaired,and probably the wingtip, but there's no mention of it in the log, which has a 4-year(!) gap between a routine maintenance stop a few months before the mishap and the next entry, which describes an annual.
Hmmmm... I'm new at this, but that smells fishy to me.
Which is not to malign the present owner- he was very up-front about it. He's tried to find out more, but has nothing other than the NTSB printout. And the plane's been annualled many times and the engine was overhauled since then... so it seems unlikely there's a nasty surprise lurking in that airframe or engine.
Finally, the sun muscled its way through the scattered clouds and burned up some of the fog, so we got the plane ready to fly. He told me to take the left seat, and warned me that it had a "heavy" right wing... a rigging problem that he's been trying to have corrected for some time. I don't remember now if it has any correlation to the repairs done or not, or if he's even sure about that.
I didn't care. I was so eager to finally fly a 140 I was in a kind of dreamlike daze... ever been absorbed in anticipation for so long that the fulfillment of your desire is a sort of shock?
So... there I was, hauling myself into a cabin that at first reminded me of my old friends the C-150 and 152. No surprise there- I knew that the early 150 has almost precisely the same cabin section- in fact, some 140 owners have had 150 doors and seats mounted with little hassle or paperwork.
But the view... hmmm... offhand I'd say "not as good as a Champ, not as bad as a Cub... somewhere in between." Different. However,the curved glareshield makes up for the attitude- you can see quite a bit out those lower corners on either side.
Once the very strong C-85 coughed itself awake and we started rolling along Danvilles' bewildering taxiways (another story in itself), I found it was very easy for me to peer over the nose and not have to s-turn. A little rubbernecking was all that was required. Only big blind spot was the right tire, which would be hidden even without someone in the right seat. I can see why the later A models with "patroller" doors are highly prized.
I lucked out getting my first ride with Robert, I think:he was very happy to let me taxi on my own and make the take-off.
Of course he gave me valuable pointers, but showed no anxiety about letting me control his baby, even though he never actually looked at my credentials.
And get this- the hull is not insured!! huh?
He has a liability policy, under which I can fly but not solo the plane (not enough time in type), but if it were to be damaged... no insurance payout.
I was surprised, but he pointed out that "if I wreck it or whatever the insurance company'll never pay out what it's worth or enough to rebuild it... should be worth quite a bit as recyclable aluminum, though."
Never thought of it that way, but it makes sense. Certainly not true of every plane, but probably true of this classic, which has been very lucky to survive recent decades of ADs and dwindling support that has banished others to that parking spot off by the fence, if you know what I mean. A 140 is still a terrific buy these days, but... not for very long, I'm afraid.
My feet were still a bit un-acclimated to the pedals, which are similar to other Cessnas but not quite the same, but I stopped riding the brakes in time to start the takeoff roll. There was no wind to speak of, although it was clearly SW at about 6 knots just above pattern altitude, judging from the L-shaped plumes of smoke from nearby stacks. He had me put in one notch of flaps (there are two very stubborn schools of thought about flaps in the world of C-140 owners), but if they did anything at all I can't say. R.'s direction for liftoff was to ease the tailwheel just off the ground when it felt ready, then hold that attitude for a sort of in-betweenish takeoff: not quite a "3-point" and not quite a "wheel".
In essence, the C140 will fly at about the same speed that the tail will fly. This, as far as I can tell, is a very, very desirable trait in a taildragger. As long as you don't let it drift.
With two grown men and nearly-full tanks, not to mention the metallized wings (which add 23 pounds to the original weight), we got off the runway in about 600 feet with no wind. With a newb at the controls, mind you. Not bad.
Climb rate, when I peeked at it as we climbed out over dying patches of fog and low scud below a mid-level deck of cumulostratus and misty 5-mile visibilty, was about 600 fpm as we passed through 2000.
I was hoping R. would have a suggestion as to where to go (don't know the area and visibilty was poor), but he just said "whatever you wanna do", so I decided what I wanted to do was just get a feel for the hardest maneuver- flying straight and level with some precision- and see what she could do.
She could do 120 mph indicated at less than 80% power, for one thing... man, was I surprised! Of course, conditions were quite good-dampish but very cold- but still, I didn't expect to see over 100mph. Strong engine, and just out of the woods as far as the "hidden pitfalls after break-in" thing goes...it'll take a long time to rack up 1500 more hours in this thing; I hope the airframe is still in one piece when it's time for the overhaul.
Again, it's not the 140 I want, but that engine almost got me thinking...
The tendency to roll right was negligible- I could easily grip the funny little yoke in such a way as to relax and still have sufficient aileron in to correct it... but of course there was no way I'd be able to fly IFR in something with such a habit.I could tell, though, and R. confirmed it, that in good rig a 140 will trim hands-off even better than a 150... other than the "heavy wing" it was very solid. The rudder is extremely effective; all I had to do was think about moving my feet and the control was right there, just the right amount.
I elected to sort of follow the Susquehanna River a ways, and as we passed over the next airport upriver, Bloomsburg, R. keyed the mic and called out on the Unicom frequency to a friend who was there.
"Where are you?" his friend asked.
"Look up".
This reminded me that I hadn't done much with the plane, so I hauled her over into a 45-degree bank and looped around the airport, in case R.'s friend was actually outside looking up, then headed more or less back the way we came. N72619 rolled smartly, with little adverse yaw. My turn was fairly tight, but I could tell she'd come around much tighter if necessary. and the big skylights in the overhead provide a good view of the inside of the turn, if you bank enough.
I just kept going, lazily following the river, gently turning and trying to see what sort of posture worked best (seats are not adjustable). I caught myself hunching a few times, but if I leaned back and relaxed it seemed very comfy, although my left elbow seemed to say "Cripes! this is worse than a 150!"
R. went on and on about the area, the plane, and his plans for his next plane... all the while playing the Friendly Instructor very well: spotting traffic, offering little pointers, etc.
He started talking about the stall characteristics, so I said "want to demonstrate one?"
He dismissed that with "no, you go ahead and do one... enter the same way as with any Cessna."
I did some clearing turns, then pulled the carb heat, reduced the power to about 1500, and waited. Took a while to slow down (we did it "clean"), and when it broke, as I held the nose at a fairly shallow pitch attitude, it was almost a non-event. I could see also that like a Cub, this is a plane that will most likely sink and wallow on you well before it stalls in a low-power mode, which is not really a bad thing.
I asked how high he'd flown N72619. and R. said about 8,500 once, just to try it... which is impressive with a fixed-mixture carb. Nominal cruise altitude is about 5500... which seems right, on a scale that includes the 150 and 172... which generally turn in the best speed-relative-to-consumption numbers at altitudes slightly above that.
I didn't climb that high, but I did make a wide climbing turn to 3000, and took us south of Danville, above a patchy-fog-shrouded ridge. Looking at a wall-like region of crud beyond that, I decided to turn around the promontory sticking out above the fog and head back.
Getting closer, I was way off my game... flubbed my initial callup because I realized I did not really know my position relative to the field... been years- ages! since I've done something that stupid!
Eventually I had a good plan laid out to enter downwind, but as I lowered the nose a tad without touching the throttle, R. said "Um. Might want to throttle back... watch the redline."
Sure enough, the needle, seen at a glance, had fooled me: the ASI is calibrated to 180 mph(!), but redline is 140, way down near the bottom of the gauge!! So much for "trend monitoring"...
I pulled the throttle back at about 139.
Rolling out on downwind, I seemed low. R. started tapping the altimeter. "Yep; it's doing it again... you're a little low."
Easy enough to pop up; we were still pretty hot. He told me to drop full flaps at the abeam point; the center lever comes up when you do this, so if you're not careful, you can jab your elbow with it when you work the throttle. I managed to avoid that fate, even when I drew the power all the way out on base as he advised.
I must say I prefer even this awkward lever to fumbling with some goofy little toggle switch and dreading all the things that can possibly go wrong with the electric flap system on later Cessnas.
"Flap handle"... it even sounds better.
Doggone if that airplane did just not want to come down... I was high as a kite on initial final. "Go ahead and slip her... foot to the firewall..." I tried, but almost could not bring myself to slip some strangers' antique airplane like that, with the trees looming... she slipped like a dream, dropping like a gleaming aluminum brick. I'm pretty sure she said "what a scaredy-cat!", too, as we whooshed in over the threshold, wing low.
I was very very thankful for the still, thick air as I coaxed her onto the centerline and eased into the flare... touchdown was only a bit rough, just this side of perfect... but I spoiled it by getting my feet all discombobulated (heel/toe-wise) while trying to brake after the rollout. We swerved a little, but nothing serious.
There was suddenly a lot of traffic on the taxiways... the day was shaping up nicely, and everyone was eager to get up there and make some use of their investments. We parked by the hangar, and as I deplaned a friend of R.'s who had his own hangar across the way, asked "well? What do you think?"
"I think... I think I like it!"
R. filled in my logbook and we spent some more time chatting about N72619, the flight, and flying in general... mostly taildraggers. His neighbor started telling me about his Aeronca Chief, so before leaving I took him up on his offer to show it to me.
It's no show-winner, but still a good ol' Aeronca. Very much like the Champ, but with some noticeable differences: side-by-side seats, for one, and a fascinating starter, which works much like that of a lawnmower or other 2-stroke, except instead of a pull rope there is a handle inside that one easily pulls to turn the C85 over a blade or two. He claimed it started faithfully every time- for him, at least. It's a clever little pair of rings mounted behind the spinner, which is why some Chiefs have that big spinner.
He told me he'd bought it from a 747 captain who decided he was leery of flying in something with no radios.
He also showed me the very minor damage that had been repaired after he lost a brake (beware those old Bendix drums) at a fly-in where others had parked too close to the grass runway... the Chief had veered into a parked Skyhawk.
According to him, the Cessna was "destroyed"- the wing, anyway- but his baby was easily repaired and is still flying.
Quite the character, this guy... he'd painted a Skyhawk silhouette on the cowling afterwards, as if a "kill mark"!
I had a long drive home ahead, so I reluctantly said my goodbyes and thank-yous, and left feeling very satisified...my suspicions have been confirmed: I really need a C-140!
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