True Confession #2 - I’m either (a) Lazy or (b) Out Flying: A Quarterly Report

How does it go? Like sands through the hourglass, so too, the Days of Our Lives. Disclaimer: I didn’t write all of that all by myself - I ripped, stole, unashamed from a stupidly addictive TV show. Please don’t sue me.

Winter was not so awful, but the wet and the cold did put a damper on my flying. Plus, Mark and I have been pretty busy putting a new face on the airfield after its purchase by the Western North Carolina Air Museum.

Our identifier is 8NC9; the Hendersonville Airport is 0A7. The runways are more or less parallel but ours is shorter by some 400 feet according to the FAA data. There’s a lot to be done to bring the turf back up to snuff, but it’s happening - little by little.

Along those lines, one thing we did not have, among other things, was a restroom to serve the hangar tenants (of whom we are two). It was a minor inconvenience for us but for any female pilots or passengers it was pretty damned inconvenient. Fortunately, the former owner had one in his hangar (of course) so we made some changes to the entry to that building and - voila! - a restroom! Not fancy, but it’s a start. 

Shifty winds are always a problem at both airfields but more so at 8NC9 (which, by the way, is called Johnson Field in remembrance of the family that owned the airfield). A bit of applied brainpower, a little work by two of our EAA/Museum members (who happen to be retired engineers and active airplane builders and pilots) and we now have a reliable wind indicator - a tetrahedron that is nice and visible from the air and the ground.

 Life just gets, as my children used to say, funner and funner.

We’ve added a paramotor club to the mix here. They usually set out in the early morning or late afternoon when conditions are most agreeable. Careful planning and orientation for both the paramotor operators and pilots has, thus far, led to a peaceful and mutually supportive coexistence. Check out Mark Huneycutt on his YouTube channel for a peek at a whole new (to most of us) aviation adventure.

Now to dry out after a spring rain - more like a deluge - and the flying will recommence!

True Confession #1

The Marquart Charger came to town from its resting place at Marion NC’s Shiflet Field. My intent was to put it back into flying condition and enjoy Red Hunnicutt’s airplane in the skies of Western North Carolina.

Once in place, friend Steve and I divvied up our purchase - he bought the engine for his RV-4 and I had the airframe.

Then, as luck would have it, just as I was ready to dig into the project (after much perusal and many trips to the Marquart Charger website, as well as parts suppliers) a fellow wrote to me out of the blue and wanted to talk about maybe buying it. It was a tough decision.

Long story short, I sold the airframe and it was on its way to West Virginia in the hands of a fellow who will do a much better job of restoring it - an Airframe and Powerplant mechanic with Inspection Authorization - pretty much the top of the trade.

I hope Red is looking down with approval for what I’ve done. He started our local EAA chapter and the Charger was a magnet for new members like me in the early 1990s.

 

Quarterly Report (4th, 2023)

 

It began as a couple of guys wanting to help out a lady who was in the somewhat enviable, yet not enviable, position of owning but not wanting an airport. Mark and I being the Boy Scouts we once were, decided to see what we could do to help her sell it. So we wrote a letter and before we knew it we were running errands and fielding all sorts of questions. All we wanted was to be assured the airport would remain an airport so we'd have a place to put our airplanes!

Long story short, the local Air Museum bought the airfield and now we find ourselves untangling years of handshake deals and some documented ones and making a consistent platform for the airfield to go forward and, hopefully, last a long time.

We're in a little corner of Paradise known as Hendersonville NC, on a plateau in the French Broad River valley of western North Carolina. The airfield is next to a 1932 airfield established by a local fellow named Oscar Meyer. Oscar built his first airplane in the late 1920s, a glider, and learned to fly it by having it pulled behind a car down the main street of town. There were objections, as you can imagine, so the teenager took it to a cornfield just outside of town and modified the glider with a car engine and that's how the Hendersonville Airport began. 

As a little boy I could see the light beam of the rotating beacon at the airport from my bedroom window as it traced across the sky. My first view of the airport was when my family drove by on our way to the nearby fairgrounds and I saw airplanes on the ground, just a quick view of them and they were gone, but I knew they were there. I believe it was from that point on I wanted to fly.

So now here I am, retired and still flying little airplanes from a grass runway next door to Oscar Meyer's and loving it.

One of these days I'll get around writing my book (they say we all have one in us) and we'll have a grand old time seeing the world together that once existed only in my imagination. For now, though, There's a fellow wanting a hangar . . . . . 

Where Does the Time Go?

 There is no more perishable commodity than time. 

In June I began my 79th circuit around the sun and looking at the photos on the walls of my barn office it seems only yesterday that three friends and I loaded the string bass, a couple of guitars and assorted nutrients into the $50, 1940 Packard and sallied forth to make musical history. (The music was pure fun, the history fleeting. I wish I had that Packard back). 

We played for Legionnaires and Governors and even the retired Commissioner of Baseball, met Colonel Sanders and were conferred the title of Kentucky Colonel ourselves before it was all over. We were young then and took time for granted. We had tons of it.

As men in our twenties we faced the prospect of war. The draft was very much on our minds. Two of us joined the Navy, two the National Guard. We all could have been deployed; one was, the others prepared but were not needed. The ploys of man did not deny us the gift of more time.

We each eventually found our career callings: One is a financial planner, one a real estate executive, one is a minister, and that left me to be a corporate pilot. Somebody had to do it. We're all retired now, but we haven't retreated.

I can't write about the paths my three friends took, only mine. What can be said in my defense is that I have wanted to fly since I was a little boy, growing up in the mountains of western North Carolina. The prospect of going up and looking down has never diminished and I practice that art every chance I have to this very day. 

Pranked!

Guru Steve is a nice guy; trustworthy, loyal, friendly, brave, helps old ladies across the street.....you get the idea. So when it comes time to tackle a project for a friend, replacing the old instruments and instrument panel in his airplane, there is no question as to the beauty and functionality of the finished product. Steve is an upright fellow who can be trusted. So when we went flying together to check all the elements displayed on the new instrument display we both remarked on the wicked sense of humor of the designers of the software, because in the place of an airplane which might show my present position on the globe, there was a donkey. Regardez-vous:

What a sense of humor .. we both laughed and, proceeding with our flight together, remarked at how the background of the cute picture blocked out some important information as we approached the airport and other airplanes.

Then, true confession time. The perpetrator of the joke was none other than the usually serious and reliable engineer who had spent the better part of his January, February, and March on this project for his trusting friend. Maybe it was because the trusting, gullible friend was about to call the manufacturer to find out how to replace that dadgum donkey with the outline of his airplane!

Fast forward (fast, as in slow) to most of the way through April, after several back-and-forth sessions with the manufacturer and the very helpful intercession of a great guy there (verifiably trustworthy, loyal, friendly, brave, etc) I now have an outline of the Glastar with a transparent background so when in close proximity to airports and airplanes I can see (electronically) what's going on around me.

I am such a dunce sometimes. As writ before, thank goodness for good friends and for the sense of humor that keeps us sane.

Time Marches On

 As in all things me, I decided to add a fuel flow transducer to the new Glastar equipage and that took a little time to work out. Thankfully, with a nod to good friends, the little red cube arrived and a plan was hatched with the help of Tom Swearengen at TS Flightlines who soon had my custom measured fuel hose on the way.

Room for new gadgetry is somewhat limited under the cowling but we were able to find just the right spot for the new fuel flow transducer and related hoses, hardware, etc...

Mark made a bracket to place the cube where it's supposed to go and Steve did the electronic magic to make it work. AFS has been great to work with and tech services is responsive.

One trick that had to be done early was calibration of the fuel quantity. 

The tanks are calibrated one at a time, but the Glastar's fuel system is such that we had to add fuel into the left and right tanks at the same time to prevent crossflow between the tanks so we could get even quantities, or close to it.

The next thing: My airplane is built with the simplified fuel system that is comprised of a 15-gallon tank in each wing and an on/off selector. Tank vents are nylon (or similar) tubing run out near the wingtips and sent vertically through the lower skin of the wings. They are then trimmed at an angle with the cut facing forward to provide positive air pressure in the tanks. Trouble is, no two cuts are precisely the same and the tanks will feed unequally. When the weight of the fuel in the tank with more fuel is enough to overcome the air pressure in the tank with less fuel, the fuller tank will feed. Not to my liking. I shopped for a 4-position fuel valve but lead times for the one I want are several months, and they come from England. Still looking.

The good news is the airplane is flying and I'm now running the EAA test cards (modified to reflect an upgraded airplane) with Mark and other safety pilots. Hopefully we'll have some good numbers very soon and I will be off to many new adventures (mostly for food).

Thank Goodness For Good Friends

For some time I've wanted to upgrade the instrument panel in the Glastar to a modern EFIS (Electronic Flight Instrument [or Information] System) with a nice, big D.U. (Display Unit) and lots of flight data on it. That technology has been around awhile but has reached a level of affordability only in the last few years. A wag once wrote that if someone wanted to see the airline tech of the future all they had to do was go to Oshkosh and the EAA fly-in to see it in action. Experimenters move the world forward; always have, always will.

The panel when we started. It was very well done for 2002 with all-electric gauges, no vacuum system. That bracket in the middle above the throttle is a mount for a hand-held GPS, a monochrome unit that cost, in 1998, over $1,000! Color displays and GPS come standard on cell phones now, giving truth to the tale that with innovation comes a reduction in cost and much greater value. The GPS incorporated in my new display tells me where I am, where I'm going and where most of the who-elses are flying near me.

My hangar partner, Mark, and Guru Steve planned the new component mounts very well. 

All the space taken up by the old instruments is now open, making room for newfangled network wiring and hub.

The network hub is mounted on the shiny aluminum platform created by Mark and wired up by Steve. Mark put edge protection on and that saved us a lot of cuts and scrapes.

While we had everything opened up I thought it might be time to replace the old wingtip lights and jump into the 21st century with all-LED units. There's no weighty external power supply to eat amps, no bulbs to burn out and the airplane lost about 3 pounds. 

The workings of electrons are pretty far outside my realm of knowledge. The beauty of experimental airplanes is the rules give nubs like me a chance to learn as we delve into those mysteries. This being my first foray into electronics and those electronics being essential to my continued health, I recruited Mark and Steve to do the heavy lifting. A project that took them, essentially, 3 weeks would have taken me much, much longer, as in months or a year. I might add that the reason they move so quickly is that Steve and Mark are both airplane builders and both are engineers. They understand this stuff.

The panel after. That 10.4" (diagonal) display has more information on it than the instrument panels on the jets I flew back in the day, and they were hot stuff. I have to calculate a new weight and balance for the airplane but I expect to lose 8-10 pounds with all the new equipment.

There is more to go. The next steps are to install a fuel flow transducer, added to the project after consulting with Steve and Mark and Dynon Avionics. I was thinking old school thoughts (Cubs, Champs, the CallAir Cadet)  which said these gadgets won't work with a carbureted engine. My engine has an engine driven fuel pump, so the flow can be calibrated. 

Calibrations are a necessity with the new systems, so I'll also be working with Mark, Steve and friends to verify my airspeed readings, measure angle of attack and determine accurate fuel quantities (to be cross-checked with the fuel flow transducer when I take to the air again). The Dynon guy said, half tongue in cheek, that fuel quantity gauges and fuel flow transducers both lie, just in different ways.

All this has been done mostly for the fun of it but also to give me the tools needed to measure the health and efficiency of my engine and the airplane as a whole. After all, I plan to hold onto this one for the duration.

My thanks to Steve and Mark and all the fellows who pitched in to bring this project to fruition. In the process I even learned a thing or two.

How I learned To Fly and Something I Learned From Flying

 My introduction to Ann Pellegreno was in the 1980s. I found a copy of her first book, World Flight, which detailed her reenactment of the ill-fated Amelia Earhart attempt to fly a Lockheed Electra around the world in 1937. Ann flew her flight in 1967, 30 years later in an Electra, and threw a garland of flowers over Howland Island where Earhart was supposed to stop for refueling. The ceremony was conducted on the date and hour of Earhart's ETA at Howland.

Ann's story has been written up many times over the succeeding years. My most recent encounter prior to buying her latest book was through an article last June (2022) by Paul Berge:

https://www.avweb.com/insider/in-the-presence-of-greatness-with-no-presence-of-mind/

Naturally, once smitten, I had to have that book and am about halfway through at this writing. 

I wanted the book to give to a young woman who is just beginning her journey into aviation. She is a former Young Eagle who took the burning coal to heart and is now old enough to get started. She has excelled in high school and has taken entry level college courses, ironically graduating from her college courses a week before she will graduate from high school! There are the usual stumbling blocks: Money, available instructors and airplanes, but she'll make it through. Sporty's Pilot Shop, through its connection with EAA and the Young Eagle program, will provide free ground school material for her. What a great candidate and a great path to aviation, no matter how she may choose to pursue it.

Here's where it gets sticky.

The book describes in detail Ann's experience with her first instructor and it's not a pretty picture. I had hoped the account would be more positive; instead, what I read was a description of a Flight Instructor who should not have been a Flight Instructor. Indeed, he should have not been flying at all. The attitude was pure macho hero. Demonstrations of "we shouldn't be doing this, but..." abounded in the initial chapters. Ann only soloed when her first instructor was unavailable for some time and another instructor evaluated her performance.

I could relate. I recall flying with a young woman over 40 years ago who had been strung out by her first instructor. In two lessons she soloed confidently, not because I was such a great teacher but because she needed someone who could communicate with her more effectively (and, perhaps, a more confident instructor). She could fly the airplane, she just didn't have the assurance to do so. I wonder sometimes what she may have done later.

SO I'm on the fence about giving this book to my Young Eagle friend. Perhaps not at the very beginning ... maybe after she is further along in her training. The more I think about it, that may be the time.

If you're interested in the Ann Pellegreno story, do an internet search and try her books. The Sky and I is available from:

www.specialbooks.com

Now we get to "Something I learned from flying":

Dave Nielsen lived down the mountain in a holler near a cave that is famous among some as a haven for bats. Naturally, we called him Bat Cave Dave.

Dave didn't have a lot of money, he wasn't famous, but he had a big, big heart. He built and flew a Kitfox and when he showed up at the north end of Johnson Field in Hendersonville NC with a loaf of bread and a pack of bologna, he started a weekly gathering that has endured to this day. The North End Gang sort of melded into the Fair Weather Flyers and we meet every Wednesday at the airport when it's warm and at other local, indoor spots when it's cold. Dave flew west in January 2016, not long after I moved back home to the mountains, so I hardly knew him but I think of him often. It occurs to me that Dave's spirit runs through all of us who love flying and love to gather with fellow flyers. Some of us came along earlier than others, but the essential thrill of personal accomplishment is still there and needs to be recognized. 

I didn't renew my Flight Instructor certificate when it came due. There is still a part of me that would like to experience the very real pleasure of watching the lights come on inside a student's head when a rectangular pattern is flown to perfection or a sight picture over the nose leads to a perfect landing. In the eyes of the FAA I'm afraid I'm a dinosaur. They're more interested in an institutional approach to flight instruction with its impossible acronyms and adherence to boxes needing to be checked off .. in order, thank you. Rather than being adjudged a loose cannon, I quit. But I won't quit.

Student pilots (we're forever learning) and experienced pilots alike can use a nudge occasionally. I prefer the less formal dialogue now that I'm getting the hang of being out of the "profession". There's absolutely nothing wrong with a qualified pilot passing along some helpful knowledge and I'll do that. I just won't be able to sign anyone off as a Flight Instructor.

And so we get to the most valuable lesson I've learned: never stop learning. That includes learning flying, learning your airplane and learning how to communicate with other people. It may be a rather narrow field of interest to some, but it's not; it's just a tight squeeze into a vast world of opportunity. As an internet friend opines: 

"A mile of road will take you a mile.

A mile of runway can take you anywhere."