Checking Airspeed

There's a great article in the September 2011 issue of Sport Aviation about how to rig up a homemade manometer for checking your airspeed indicator. Since I was a budding scientist (and haunted science fairs and other geeky events) before I became a theatre major , such things interest me and I had to make one of my own for my own amusement as much as anything.

Note the intriguing tangle of tubing, the symphony of scales, all the neat lines and squiggles and numbers. Ah, 'tis a veritable work of art.

Then come the usual caveats. Nothing can be accomplished in the world of science without caveats.

First and foremost, the scientist has to have a point of beginning for the experiment and rules to give him a stable platform on which to build his argument. No experiment can merit serious consideration without these essential ingredients.

Next, a convenient means of measurement must be provided in order for the scientist to gauge the success of his experiment. This is done by reference to numbers placed in very scientific fashion here and there so as to lend credence to the scientist's work. In this case, those numbers refer to air pressures converted to airspeeds and begin to mean something when the scientist adds colored water to the tubing (paying careful attention to the amount) and applies pressure to an open end by carefully blowing into the tubing (p.s. never do this. The proper method of applying pressure is to attach a length of flexible rubber or silicone tubing to the end and roll it up to provide the pressure you need, but I didn't pay attention to this part of the article). When enough pressure is applied, the open end of the tubing is sealed by either crimping the tubing or, more often, by plugging the end with the scientist's tongue. This hurts like blue blazes after awhile and leads to verbal exchanges with the second member of the scientific team that are right comical at times.

Every self-respecting scientist has an alternate means of compiling his data, so in the event a level, stable platform cannot be achieved in the beginning this blue scale shows the total difference between fluid levels in each tube and converts this differential to an airspeed. Since we are dealing with arguably the most commited scientists, to wit: pilots, every opportunity to achieve a result must be explored. Newton, Bernoulli, Boyle ... none of these guys could fly and we still remember their names. Go figure.

All in all, the manometer experiment was a success. My airspeed indicator is fairly accurate and the system leak rate is acceptable. For a much better explanation of how to build and use a simple manometer, you'd be smart to check Sport Aviation for September. Maybe this link will work:

http://www.sportaviationonline.org/sportaviation/201109#pg98

What I missed: The Antique Airplane Club of Greater New York annual Fly-In (2011)

You want to tell God a joke? Make a plan.

I had every intention of flying the Cub north from NC to NY for the Fly-In at Bayport Aerodrome, then life got in the way. Gino called me from the Sheep Shagger Baaa, where the airplane and hangar keys are locked away for the night and merriment abounds. I talked to Bill and Bill and heard many serious discussions of aviation engineering, aerodynamics, and physics in the background, mostly pertaining to the results of bomb drops and spot landings, punctuated by laughter. Oh, how I miss these great people. I missed the Plane Janes, too, but you don’t have to.

Order a calendar!

There were great airplanes:

Ace’s N3N is always a big hit. The big Wright engine, the collection of leftover blimp parts…..

 

Bill’s Brunner-Winkle Bird was joined by two others – a rarity in itself, you seldom see three in one place (The pic of the red airplane  is from the Cradle of Aviation web site, but it was there).

And what would a fly-in be without Stearmans?

…Or the iconic Piper Cub?

Feeling their way to the stripe in the spot landing contest …

And always a committee to grade the landings ….

Stu in the Auster and Steve in the Fleet … you don’t see these every day except at Bayport.

Airplanes snugged down for the night …

Thanks (& a tip of the hat) to Annemarie and Stuart for the great pictures.

See you next year!

The Walter Mitty Cub, or Armchair Flying

Oh, how I love an adventure! Last summer I looked at a Piper Cub trip from Washington State to North Carolina and thought it would be the flight of a lifetime (which it would have been) but timing, that fickle quash, overrode my plans. The Bonanza had to go first and on the other end the Cub had to go so it became a race to the sale and the Cub won. Dang it. The Bonanza eventually sold (see February’s post) but it was too late for this participant. I found another Cub near my own backyard but the allure of flying through the high mountains of the west still strikes a chord in me.

Enter the internet and a website for Cub enthusiasts and wishful thinkers at www.j3-cub.com . There is a forum thereon called “Cub Talk”, which is open to general discussion of all things Cub-related and where a younger-than-me United Airlines captain opened up a thread that became one of the longer ones on the site. The “New Boy Buying J3” led not only to his finding a fine airplane but to his embarkation upon a four-day trip from Lincoln NE to Southern California.

 

This doesn’t give all the zigs and zags of his route, but you get the general idea. His destination wasn’t Palm Springs, either, but it’s close. The straight line flight would have been just over 1,000 miles; the route he had to take to wind through the mountains and to stay near highways across the desert ended up nearly 1,400 miles. Lucky guy (obviously the beneficiary of airline luck), he had tailwinds a lot of the way! I never have tailwinds.

With today’s satellite technology and a nifty little hand-held device sending sparks to space and back, we were able to track the progress of the flight all the way from Lincoln to his home field. The gadget sent his position every 10 minutes and with a little interpretation you can tell he stopped for fuel between position 38 and position 44, at Buckeye AZ, just west of Phoenix. To add a little more realism, I pulled up Google Earth and traced the route over satellite pictures of the terrain. I can’t wait to see his pictures.

My wife tells me I’m nuts for watching NASCAR races but I haven’t seen a race yet that has captured my imagination like this flight in a little yellow airplane.

Maybe next year.

The Future

When it’s a beautiful day, there’s just nothing better than an Airplane Ride! Cousin Charlie’s wife, Marian’s, nephew and family spent a few days in North Carolina recently and after all the swimming and freezing in mountain streams, after all the hiking and climbing and doing stuff, there was this Big Secret High Adventure thing left to do … the boys played all their cards to find out what it was, but no telling. By the time they got to the airport and the Secret was out, they were wired … and boy, was it fun!

Daemion (age 12) was first and climbed right in … we spent about 15 minutes in the air, first circling over the airport so we could wave to everybody, then departed the pattern from the crosswind to do a little hands-on flying! He picked it right up.

Charlie and Papa and Ty (age 8) and Lisa were the cheering section …

Then it was Lisa’s turn

…and she learned why the control stick is called a “joy stick” … we had a great ride, just like Daemion’s.

Then it was Ty’s turn …

That open door was a little too open, so we closed it before launch … that was better … a lot more comfortable for a first time Cub flyer … (the door was open again by the time we were taxiing in after our flight).

The only trouble was …. it was over too soon.

What’s so great about today?

And the best of all, a self portrait:

There is nothing, simply nothing, that is half so much worth doing as messing around in a Cub.

Why I like country airports

I guess I like country airports because:

I remember the Father's Day Fly-Ins at Talmage's on Long Island ... and the Cub I left behind when I retired from my day job.

I like my hometown airport in North Carolina because I can look up at the sound of a radial engine and watch a Stearman land right in front of me ...

Then another one lands right behind him ...

What a beautiful sight ... owned by a couple of guys just out for a good time on a good day ...

John throws a hot dog shindig with all the fixins a couple of times a year ...

John and his sister make you feel at home ... and Carleton tries to look innocent with that second hot dog ...

Life at country airports takes on a whole new meaning. I've spent a fair amount of time at airports over the last 40 years, some of them friendly, some of them not so much ... and I've decided that if all that time I spent at the not-sos made it possible to be here, then it wasn't time wasted at all.