rottydaddy
En-Route
My recent checkout in a Piper Cub went pretty well, especially considering almost three months' worth of rust.
The weather was perfect: high overcast to block the sun, and cool dry air with a very weak,indecisive wind.
My mount was the Andover Flight Academy's Piper L-4, the military variant of the great Cub design, with all that extra glass and a period paint scheme. It's registered as a J3, however... something to do with the transfer from military to civil registry.
It has a C85 with an electric starter, but no radios. There is an intercom, which was helpful.
My instructor, Bill, was pretty specific about what we would cover, and suggested I would probably not get to land the airplane on the first flight.
I was willing to defer to his wisdom- this plane is not any rental they just turn you loose in; it's a tool in a program of tailwheel instruction that these guys take very seriously. And a new type to me- I'd worked the stick for a few minutes in a J3 once before, but that was a long time ago.
He did ask about my tailwheel time, and laughed when he heard it was in a Champ.
"The Champ lands much flatter than the Cub, and you can see where you're going... anyway, you'll see..."
As soon as I climbed in the back, where I could not see the panel or much of anything else with him up front, I saw.
Or rather, didn't.
We started out with some taxiing S-turns, something I'd never really done, except for a few veering turns in the Champ. Bill told me he would work the brakes this time, which was just as well, as I was not sure if I could find them in time.
Halfway to the hold-short line I had the taxiing down pretty good. It's easy to just keep the tire in the corner of your eye and watch for the centerline to appear... then tap the rudder. Easy, with no wind...
We did our simple run-up, and he reviewed me in the long-forgotten CIGARTIPS mnemonic checklist, which I'd always ignored, preferring to use a paper checklist, but which seemed very appropriate.
Then I taxiied onto the grass for my first grass-runway takeoff! In a Cub, yet! Yippee!
It was fun, and easy to hold her straight in the faint breeze. The sensations and required inputs reminded me of the Aeronca, so I felt comfortable.
We climbed to depart westward, in smooth cold air with good visibilty and a high gray deck above.
I didn't bother with the trim, and he didn't prompt me to or mess with it himself. Not sure I could have reached it anyway; it's way up front on one side, much handier for the front-seater, even though you solo a Cub from the back.
I found it easy to level off and maintain altitude with whatever setting he'd dialed in for takeoff; not much pressure required. We set 2200 rpm for cruise, and headed out for some maneuvers.
Made some easy clearing turns, despite me having only my peripheral vision and the underside of the center wing section for a reference, then he demo'd a power-off stall at 2500 feet.
It's done the same way you do it in any plane, and it breaks not unlike the Champ or any Cessna I've flown. Like the Champ, though, I noticed it will not "swoop" in a pitch-up at takeoff speed as well as even a 150- it will start to wallow and sink very soon if you don't pull back enough to induce the stall before it has slowed down. It showed no eagerness to drop a wing in power-offs, even when I did some.
The power-on was also very Champ-like: extreme pitch and plenty of power early on, very little tendency to climb in this attitude, then with some effort you can get it to shiver and then drop its nose very predictably. Not much yaw at that moment, certainly nothing that good rudder can't handle.
But a Cub will spin on you, especially out of a skidding turn with power on. If it "breaks over the top" you could have some real trouble. And apparently it's not the safest plane to get into a spin with- I guess that's the price you pay for having that "tail-waggability" available and not using it properly in the first place.
Bill admitted he was not eager to demonstrate a spin, especially in an antique airframe, but he was eager to show me the Falling Leaf, a maneuver I'd never done, and an excellent spin prevention and recovery exercise.
What's wacky- and a little scary- about a Falling Leaf is that if you set it up right, the plane will be not quite stalled and not quite mushing- it just enters a wallowing descent where airflow is such that the ailerons, if they do anything at all, will have the opposite effect to what you are inputting!! Yes...the dreaded Negative Roll Damping (cue "Psycho" shower-scene music).
It's a drag thing, and an extreme attitude for any airplane. Hard to imagine getting into that postion by mistake, but practicing it is good insurance... because if it happens to you, you'd better know to center that stick and start moving your feet!
And it's fun.
You enter like a power-off stall: carb heat, power back, hold it until airspeed bleeds off, pitch up- and then, rather than pull it quite all the way back, pull it back just until the plane begins to sink, then hold that. Don't let the airspeed increase, but don't let it "break", either. And no cheating with the throttle.
The plane will wallow a bit and try to roll, but rather than use aileron to correct that, use your feet. As you descend in this pseudo-tailslide, try to force the nose left and right while keeping the wings level without aileron input. As soon as the nose swings through center, ease in opposite foot. Use the dihedral; most planes have more than enough dihedral to make it easy to control bank safely with your feet. I found it quite easy to do in the Cub, and a very useful exercise for even a trike driver. It belongs in the toolbox with MCA turns and flying the pattern with only trim, feet and power.
But it's a perfect old-school exercise for an afternoon in a Cub; I really enjoyed that.
My steep 360s were not so hot, but at least I felt I was coordinating rudder properly, despite not being able to see the ball.
Which reminds me of another impression: flying VFR without any instruments (except a few peeks when he wanted me to see something and leaned out of the way) was liberating, even more so than just flying without a radio. Some real old-timey flying, where I was more connected with the plane than usual.
The Champ with its bare-bones panel, murky wet compass and inop G-meter suddenly seemed too complicated for me really enjoy flying it again.
"I like to teach people to fly the wing at all times" is one comment I remember from our conversation up there. Bill is a good stick-and-rudder teacher.
It's a worthy challenge, flying without instruments, but very natural and- best of all- not complicated.
"You're fine; I have nothing to say about your air work, so let's go do some landings", Bill eventually said. It was time to return, with him navigating so I could concentrate on holding course and altitude.
The wind was favoring 03 only to the extent that the sock was hanging limply on the south side of its pole, quivering.
I love flying the pattern when the air is thick and cool and dry... smooth and firm, like a nice driveway. Makes for a confident approach. And 12N is pretty easy on the eyes from up there- a small lake at either end, and low rolling hills on either side, with some tall trees well-clear of the approaches and runway. Beautiful.
My first approach found me a bit high at the top of final (one of my common errors), but it was great opportunity to slip that baby down, first one way, then the other. Bill directed me to focus on the midpoint to establish the flare, and the peripheral view from the back being pretty wide and low to the ground, I was easily able to set up a good-enough 3-pointer.
We made several circuits, with Bill doing one to further explain a little "secret" of the Cub: the response curve of the elevator is such that when you pull back that last little bit, the elevator comes up much more rapidly than up to that point; it sort of "flicks". This feature is used to stick the tailwheel on at that perfect moment.
I never quite found that moment, but I did well. At least I didn't bounce...like somebody I know... cough... "New bungees", Bill explained.But even that series of little rebounds was very sedate... the Cub has a lot to offer an attentive pilot.
Just a few honest 3-pointers to a full stop, and a lot of pattern and taxi practice... very enjoyable.
So what next? I was told that if I wanted to continue in the Cub, we'd next cover some ground school, to get me more familiar with the machine itself. They probably won't let me solo it, although I think they do that for students doing their full primary training in that plane. Or I could consider joining Damian, the chief pilot, in the school's Top Cub for some advanced "bush" classes...yeah, that'll probably happen.
Then there's the Stearman they offer dual in... should keep me busy for a while, until I finally get it together and hunt down my own plane.
See pictures in the Photo Gallery...
For more info about this excellent school:
http://www.andoverflight.com/
The weather was perfect: high overcast to block the sun, and cool dry air with a very weak,indecisive wind.
My mount was the Andover Flight Academy's Piper L-4, the military variant of the great Cub design, with all that extra glass and a period paint scheme. It's registered as a J3, however... something to do with the transfer from military to civil registry.
It has a C85 with an electric starter, but no radios. There is an intercom, which was helpful.
My instructor, Bill, was pretty specific about what we would cover, and suggested I would probably not get to land the airplane on the first flight.
I was willing to defer to his wisdom- this plane is not any rental they just turn you loose in; it's a tool in a program of tailwheel instruction that these guys take very seriously. And a new type to me- I'd worked the stick for a few minutes in a J3 once before, but that was a long time ago.
He did ask about my tailwheel time, and laughed when he heard it was in a Champ.
"The Champ lands much flatter than the Cub, and you can see where you're going... anyway, you'll see..."
As soon as I climbed in the back, where I could not see the panel or much of anything else with him up front, I saw.
Or rather, didn't.
We started out with some taxiing S-turns, something I'd never really done, except for a few veering turns in the Champ. Bill told me he would work the brakes this time, which was just as well, as I was not sure if I could find them in time.
Halfway to the hold-short line I had the taxiing down pretty good. It's easy to just keep the tire in the corner of your eye and watch for the centerline to appear... then tap the rudder. Easy, with no wind...
We did our simple run-up, and he reviewed me in the long-forgotten CIGARTIPS mnemonic checklist, which I'd always ignored, preferring to use a paper checklist, but which seemed very appropriate.
Then I taxiied onto the grass for my first grass-runway takeoff! In a Cub, yet! Yippee!
It was fun, and easy to hold her straight in the faint breeze. The sensations and required inputs reminded me of the Aeronca, so I felt comfortable.
We climbed to depart westward, in smooth cold air with good visibilty and a high gray deck above.
I didn't bother with the trim, and he didn't prompt me to or mess with it himself. Not sure I could have reached it anyway; it's way up front on one side, much handier for the front-seater, even though you solo a Cub from the back.
I found it easy to level off and maintain altitude with whatever setting he'd dialed in for takeoff; not much pressure required. We set 2200 rpm for cruise, and headed out for some maneuvers.
Made some easy clearing turns, despite me having only my peripheral vision and the underside of the center wing section for a reference, then he demo'd a power-off stall at 2500 feet.
It's done the same way you do it in any plane, and it breaks not unlike the Champ or any Cessna I've flown. Like the Champ, though, I noticed it will not "swoop" in a pitch-up at takeoff speed as well as even a 150- it will start to wallow and sink very soon if you don't pull back enough to induce the stall before it has slowed down. It showed no eagerness to drop a wing in power-offs, even when I did some.
The power-on was also very Champ-like: extreme pitch and plenty of power early on, very little tendency to climb in this attitude, then with some effort you can get it to shiver and then drop its nose very predictably. Not much yaw at that moment, certainly nothing that good rudder can't handle.
But a Cub will spin on you, especially out of a skidding turn with power on. If it "breaks over the top" you could have some real trouble. And apparently it's not the safest plane to get into a spin with- I guess that's the price you pay for having that "tail-waggability" available and not using it properly in the first place.
Bill admitted he was not eager to demonstrate a spin, especially in an antique airframe, but he was eager to show me the Falling Leaf, a maneuver I'd never done, and an excellent spin prevention and recovery exercise.
What's wacky- and a little scary- about a Falling Leaf is that if you set it up right, the plane will be not quite stalled and not quite mushing- it just enters a wallowing descent where airflow is such that the ailerons, if they do anything at all, will have the opposite effect to what you are inputting!! Yes...the dreaded Negative Roll Damping (cue "Psycho" shower-scene music).
It's a drag thing, and an extreme attitude for any airplane. Hard to imagine getting into that postion by mistake, but practicing it is good insurance... because if it happens to you, you'd better know to center that stick and start moving your feet!
And it's fun.
You enter like a power-off stall: carb heat, power back, hold it until airspeed bleeds off, pitch up- and then, rather than pull it quite all the way back, pull it back just until the plane begins to sink, then hold that. Don't let the airspeed increase, but don't let it "break", either. And no cheating with the throttle.
The plane will wallow a bit and try to roll, but rather than use aileron to correct that, use your feet. As you descend in this pseudo-tailslide, try to force the nose left and right while keeping the wings level without aileron input. As soon as the nose swings through center, ease in opposite foot. Use the dihedral; most planes have more than enough dihedral to make it easy to control bank safely with your feet. I found it quite easy to do in the Cub, and a very useful exercise for even a trike driver. It belongs in the toolbox with MCA turns and flying the pattern with only trim, feet and power.
But it's a perfect old-school exercise for an afternoon in a Cub; I really enjoyed that.
My steep 360s were not so hot, but at least I felt I was coordinating rudder properly, despite not being able to see the ball.
Which reminds me of another impression: flying VFR without any instruments (except a few peeks when he wanted me to see something and leaned out of the way) was liberating, even more so than just flying without a radio. Some real old-timey flying, where I was more connected with the plane than usual.
The Champ with its bare-bones panel, murky wet compass and inop G-meter suddenly seemed too complicated for me really enjoy flying it again.
"I like to teach people to fly the wing at all times" is one comment I remember from our conversation up there. Bill is a good stick-and-rudder teacher.
It's a worthy challenge, flying without instruments, but very natural and- best of all- not complicated.
"You're fine; I have nothing to say about your air work, so let's go do some landings", Bill eventually said. It was time to return, with him navigating so I could concentrate on holding course and altitude.
The wind was favoring 03 only to the extent that the sock was hanging limply on the south side of its pole, quivering.
I love flying the pattern when the air is thick and cool and dry... smooth and firm, like a nice driveway. Makes for a confident approach. And 12N is pretty easy on the eyes from up there- a small lake at either end, and low rolling hills on either side, with some tall trees well-clear of the approaches and runway. Beautiful.
My first approach found me a bit high at the top of final (one of my common errors), but it was great opportunity to slip that baby down, first one way, then the other. Bill directed me to focus on the midpoint to establish the flare, and the peripheral view from the back being pretty wide and low to the ground, I was easily able to set up a good-enough 3-pointer.
We made several circuits, with Bill doing one to further explain a little "secret" of the Cub: the response curve of the elevator is such that when you pull back that last little bit, the elevator comes up much more rapidly than up to that point; it sort of "flicks". This feature is used to stick the tailwheel on at that perfect moment.
I never quite found that moment, but I did well. At least I didn't bounce...like somebody I know... cough... "New bungees", Bill explained.But even that series of little rebounds was very sedate... the Cub has a lot to offer an attentive pilot.
Just a few honest 3-pointers to a full stop, and a lot of pattern and taxi practice... very enjoyable.
So what next? I was told that if I wanted to continue in the Cub, we'd next cover some ground school, to get me more familiar with the machine itself. They probably won't let me solo it, although I think they do that for students doing their full primary training in that plane. Or I could consider joining Damian, the chief pilot, in the school's Top Cub for some advanced "bush" classes...yeah, that'll probably happen.
Then there's the Stearman they offer dual in... should keep me busy for a while, until I finally get it together and hunt down my own plane.
See pictures in the Photo Gallery...
For more info about this excellent school:
http://www.andoverflight.com/
