Lessons from an Antique

I finally reached 50 hours in the Chief and had some time to think about what I’ve learned so far. Here, in no particular order, is an incomplete list:

• Oil changes are easy and non-messy, now that I’ve figured out exactly where to put the catch bucket, and to cover the bucket with a paper towel just in case the oil-covered drain plug slips out of my fingers (don’t ask me how I learned that). I’ve also revived my long-dormant safety-wiring skills.
• Preflight in a seventy year-old, fabric covered airplane takes on a whole new meaning. First of all, no one else flies it – so if I don’t spot a problem, no one else will. Also, the mix of dissimilar materials means feeling and listening take on a whole new meaning – it’s important to thump the fabric and feel the underside and smell the engine compartment – you can’t always see trouble, but you might hear it or smell it or feel it.
• There’s a distinct odor of fabric, gas, oil, dirt, and old grass that will signal trouble if it changes.
• You learn to judge flying wire tension by sound – they’ll make a certain pitch twang when struck with an index finger. Any change in that tone spells trouble. Reach and try to move each tail wire mounting bracket – if it moves, also trouble – lose a wire brace, lose the elevator.
• Safety is enhanced by a regular sequence of actions. For example, when hand propping, I follow the exact same routine: Check fuel on, mags off, put gloves on, place chocks in front of both mains, secure tailwheel with stake and rope, check mags off, prime 4 times, walk to front, check airplane can’t move forward, cycle prop through 6 times, walk around strut, check fuel on mags on primer in throttle in ½”, walk to front, throw prop – if starts, walk around strut, sit inside while engine warms at 800-1000RPM, watch oil pressure and temp, once warm, reduce to idle (5-600 RPM), walk to back, loosen tail wheel restraint, walk front, hold onto strut while pulling long rope on chocks to remove from mains, climb aboard, RPM back to 900 or so…
• A regular pattern helps me stay on task, and when I notice that things are out of order, I stop and think – always a good thing when dealing with a swinging meat cleaver.
• A lightweight tailwheel airplane is really easy to maneuver back into the hangar once you figure out that a rope around the tailspring will let you pull the airplane exactly where you want it to go.
• GE Double Life 100w light bulbs and mechanics trouble lamp is the cheapest engine pre-heater going. Stack up U-Haul moving blankets on the engine cowling, stuff cut up foam mat in the openings, and the engine will be toasty but not hot the next morning when it’s time to fly.
• I’ve seen the red bottles and cans of Marvel Mystery Oil in auto sections for years, and always laughed at the idea that a product could have “mystery” in its name and still sell. But I’ve learned that MMO is just about the handiest product made on the planet – I’ve yet to be mauled by a single tiger or crushed by an elephant.
• A low-powered airplane will force you to understand the effects of density altitude on aerodynamic performance. In more modern trainers, you may see a slight difference in climb gradient and runway length, but hardly enough to really impress upon you the need to account for temperature, humidity, elevation, and winds. I’ve learned it’s no problem to takeoff in the morning with a full 12 gallon fuel tank, but may not work as well on a hot, still afternoon.
• You don’t need a checklist – just eyeballs. Start at the left and work right: That aileron flaps as expected, and elevator does the uppy-downy thing, door closed, seatbelt on, primer in, carb heat off, mags both, fuel on, oil press/temp green, trim takeoff, door closed, that aileron aileroning.
• Runup: Hold brakes but make sure there’s room to drift, RPM 1700, mags left, both, right, both, carb heat, oil good, idle – still running? Go.
• Old taildraggers were not designed for paved runways. The prop is out of the dirt as you taxi around, the grass helps bump the bird upward as it gains flying speed, the grass allows the tires to slide just enough to rescue a landing with drift, and a grass landing – properly done – can make a landing very “cushiony” according to my daughter. Landing on pavement is like root canal –necessary, but not sought-after.
• Flying 500-1000 feet above the ground, you see the ground in a whole new way, still a part of it, yet with a different perspective. Typical GA VFR flight happens several thousand feet above the ground (and should, in very congested areas). But out here where the living is “rural,” I see more gas wells, cows, and trees than houses, so I keep it low and slow, following a river here, a mountain valley there, or some ancient Indian path converted to a lightly travelled road.
• A good habit on final is to wiggle your feet and feel the rudder move. This ensures you have a foot on each rudder pedal.
• If you’re heels are on the floor, you can’t actuate the heel brakes. This is generally good.
• With this old bird, the instruments are more advice and commentary than rules. The altimeter says 2000, and “looks about right from here” is close enough – We’re not flying IFR, so don’t need a “sensitive” altimeter. The airspeed indicator simply what I can hear and feel – getting slow? Noise is reduced, controls get sloppy. Going faster? More noise, responsive controls. Really quiet but responsive controls? Time to land. Probably the only panel gauge that gets a regular look-see is the oil pressure gauge.
• In a Chief, you lead turns with your feet – contrary to all training. That’s the way it is, so get used to it – just use less when turning left – it already wants to go that way.
• You don’t need a plan, and you don’t need objectives. Most pilots and aircraft owners are mission-focused. This trait is usually linked to the income required to own and fly airplanes. That’s fine, but you don’t need a mission when it’s costing twenty bucks an hour to fly (“fixed costs” like hangar rent and taxes and the rest are annual dues to the club – they don’t count towards flying time). So go to the airport, open the hangar doors, do a leisurely preflight, pull the bird out, prop it, taxi, takeoff and then fly around. Resist the urge to lay out a training schedule – unless, of course, you really want to. But likely you’ll practice turns about a point, coordinated turns, chandelles, wingovers --maybe even a Lazy 8 or two all while you’re "just out flying."
• Mornings are the best times to fly – it’s usually still, cooler, and the sky isn’t too busy or bumpy. Even on days when the forecast warns of winds and rain, you can usually sneak out of a alf hour or so before the weather wakes up.
• Late evenings, just before sunset is second-best, though you usually have to share the air with other airplanes in the pattern. Out of the pattern, they’re no longer a factor, since they fly above you.
• Shut the fuel off after making the last taxi turn and you can see no one’s blocking your way to your hangar. Shut it off sooner, and you may have to do a hot restart within 100 feet of where you’d be shutting down.
• Never take a prop from a guy named Lefty.
• The smaller the field, the more welcome you’ll be.
• There is a time and place for a ground loop – during an emergency landing in a back yard. Keep this in mind.
• Most people simply don’t get your affinity for this old, lightweight, underpowered antique. It’s ok – if they did, prices would go up.
• As soon as you think you’ve figured out wheel landings, you’ll be proven wrong.
• As soon as you think you’ve figured out three point landings, you’ll be proven wrong.
• As soon as you think you’ve figured out landings, you’ll be proven wrong.
• Only one thing matters on landing – keep it straight. Well that, and don’t stall it in. And don’t hit the taxiway lights on the crossing taxiway. And don’t ground loop. And avoid the storm drain. Otherwise, it’s very simple.

There’s plenty more to learn, and that's half the fun.