Ask anyone who’s tried to wring more speed from an existing aircraft design, and you’ll learn that the task is very difficult. Hot-rodders have long been adding speed on cars and motorcycles by installing progressively more powerful engines, and that works great for machines that roll on wheels. Unfortunately, it’s not nearly as effective on airplanes.

Weight and aerodynamics aren’t terribly important on mere earth-bound conveyances, but they can make all the difference on flying machines. For airplanes, the trade-offs of a larger, more powerful engine may not be worth the effort. More horsepower usually means more weight and higher fuel burn, which can demand bigger tanks and reduce payload, unless you raise the gross, which reduces speed and demands more horsepower, which requires more fuel and higher weight! You get the idea.

The late Roy LoPresti, grand guru of all things aerodynamic, generally disdained power increases for more speed. Roy was my Yoda on anything aeronautical, and he used to tell me that if cooling drag didn’t increase, the standard formula for calculating speed increase with extra power was to expect the cube root of the percentage of horsepower increase in knots. Translation: If you had a 160-knot airplane, added 30 hp to a 300 hp engine (10%) and didn’t increase the cooling drag, you could reasonably expect to see a speed increase of about 2.16% (2.16 x 2.16 x 2.16=10). That’s an unimpressive 3.5 additional knots (160 x 0.0216=3.5).

The smartest possible course would be to combine aerodynamic improvements with more horsepower, and that’s exactly what Diamond Aircraft (www.diamondaircraft.com) has done on the new Diamond Star DA40 XL. Diamond recently introduced the result of its improvement campaign on what was already one of the best airplanes in its class.

The horsepower improvement is subtle but effective. Rather than recertify the airplane with a more powerful engine, Diamond contracted with Power Flow Systems (www.powerflowsystems.com) of Daytona Beach, Fla., to have a tuned exhaust designed specifically for the Star’s injected Lycoming IO-360-M1A.

Tuned exhausts can work wonders at recovering the horsepower that’s normally lost to an inefficient exhaust system. Power Flow has been building model-specific tuned exhausts for several years, concentrating first on airplanes powered by the 150/160 hp Lycoming O-320s and later on those fitted with 180/200 hp O-360s and IO-360s. The company has made a name for itself with exhaust mods designed for a variety of airplanes, primarily the Piper Warrior, Cessna Skyhawk, Grumman Tiger, Cessna Cardinal, Piper Archer and a number of 180 and 200 hp Mooneys.

There’s often a general skepticism about the effectiveness of STCs, but I have personal knowledge that Power Flow’s products work as advertised. Three years ago, I had my Mooney fitted with a Power Flow exhaust, and the aircraft experienced a dramatic difference in performance. I picked up 50 to 75 fpm in climb, saw CHTs and oil temps drop by as much as 15 degrees, and witnessed an impressive five-knot speed increase at 11,000 feet.

In the case of the Diamond Star, Power Flow’s general manager, Darren Tillman, told me his company tweaked the exhaust to reduce back pressure, and the final system wound up delivering about an extra 23 additional horsepower. Incidentally, that doesn’t mean the certified, 180 hp Star now delivers 203 hp. The airplane is still certified for a maximum 180 hp. The tuned exhaust merely recovers the horsepower normally lost to power-grabbing accessories such as starter, alternator/generator, etc.

The extra ponies provide an additional five knots cruise at 6,500 feet, and as much as seven knots at 10,000 feet. Power Flow will supply the more efficient exhaust to Diamond Aircraft for all future DA40 XLs, and the company will also market the system as an STC’d conversion for stock DA40s equipped with the composite MT-Prop. (Pilots flying behind the Hartzell-driven Star must stick with the stock exhaust for now; Hartzell is working on an STC for the Power Flow exhaust, but it will likely also require a new Hartzell prop.) Price for the aftermarket DA40 Power Flow exhaust (with ceramic pipe) is $5,190, plus labor.

The new Star also has an improved MT composite, scimitar, three-blade prop to help convert the additional Power Flow horsepower to thrust. The new prop is pounds lighter than the old one, and you can feel that during power-up. The new prop comes up to speed notably quicker.

There are another half-dozen less-perceptible improvements to the Star that make the XL a fully equipped, ready-to-fly, IFR aircraft. Diamond analyzed how pilots typically order the Star, and configured the airplane with most of what was formerly optional as standard, offering the DA40 XL at an all-up tab of $339,695. (One of Diamond’s newest offerings, the DA40 XLS, comes at a $334,950 price tag. Learn more in the Sidebar.)

To offset the weight of the improvements, Diamond has recertified the DA40 to a gross weight of 2,646 pounds, 111 more than the previous Star. As a result, useful load increases by about 70 pounds. Maximum landing weight remains at the old 2,535 pounds, so if you depart at gross, you’ll need to burn off about 19 gallons of fuel before you can return for landing.

Inside the cabin, Diamond added electrically adjustable rudder pedals on both sides as standard, AmSafe inflatable seat-belt restraints and an electric CO₂ detector. The company also incorporated a Power Flow heater to deliver air 25 degrees hotter than before. Outside the airplane, Diamond fitted high-intensity discharge (HID) taxi and landing lights.

Standard avionics on the XL include the Garmin G1000 and GFC 700 autopilot. They include traffic, XM weather and GPS-based terrain warnings.

Diamond emphasizes that many of the features above could become available as retrofittable options. As mentioned earlier, the Power Flow Systems exhaust is already available on the STC aftermarket.

The big question is, what are the results of all this innovation? The Diamond dealer in my neck of the woods is USAero (www.usaero.aero) in Long Beach, Calif. Robert Stewart, USAero’s Diamond expert (he also dabbles in emeralds and turquoise), agreed to fly with me to demonstrate the new airplane’s talents.

Since the first Diamond Star hit the market in 2000, the little four-seater has been almost universally regarded as one of the most innovative singles in its class. With a composite design that has little hanging out to grab the wind, even the original Star offered excellent performance on minimal horsepower.

Standing on the XL’s wing provides perhaps the optimum view of the airplane’s slick aerodynamics. There’s nary a rivet or section line in sight, the overhead hatch fits so tight, you have to practically open a window to get it closed, and, oh yes, there’s even a back door on the left, something rarely (if ever) seen on a four-seat airplane. (The old Beech Sierra offered an aft right rear door, but at the time, Beech was laboring under the delusion that the airplane was a six-seater.)

Settle into the airplane’s plush leather interior and you can’t help but be impressed with the nearly automotive comfort. Diamond didn’t design the interior around the BMW 5-series or Audi A8, but the cabin still winds up being eminently comfortable, measuring 47 inches across in front, 45 inches in back.

That’s not to suggest you can top the tanks and fill the four seats with 680 pounds of people. Even with the gross weight increase, the test airplane sported a payload of only 850 pounds. Subtract 50 gallons of petrol, and you’re down to more like 562 pounds for people and their stuff.

I know it’s a song you’ve heard before, but that’s not really such an evil limitation, because most pilots buy at least two seats more than they need. Besides, if you really need to fly with a 680-pound string quartet (minus their instruments), you could leave 20 gallons in the truck and still have enough fuel for a 250 nm trip plus reserve.

Level at 6,500 to 7,500 feet with a full load, and you’ll see something between 148 and 150 knots, again not too shabby with only 180 hp under the bonnet. I actually saw 151 knots true on the day of my flight, though we were operating perhaps 200 pounds below gross.

Remember, however, that specific fuel consumption is immutable. The more horses you employ, the faster your airplane will go, but you’ll also burn more fuel. Diamond claims the Power Flow system makes that about 10 gph at 75%. That suggests an SFC of 0.444 pounds/hp/hr. With 50 gallons aboard, you should be able to range out an easy four hours plus reserve—about as long as most pilots are willing to sit in one place anyway.

“Realistically, the Power Flow exhaust is probably the major contributor to the improved performance,” says Stewart. “All by itself, it accounted for at least five knots of the higher cruise.”

Diamond’s max-cruise spec is 150 knots, and we were right on the numbers. That’s excellent performance for a 180 hp single with wheels in the wind. Granted that speed, you’ll run away from an Archer or Skyhawk, though you’ll still be at least five knots slower than a Cirrus SR20. Pull back to 55%, and you can see 130 knots on eight gph.

Personally, I’ve always felt the Star was the most aerodynamically innovative airplane in the class. That class, incidentally, consists of the Star, Cirrus SR20, Piper Archer and Skyhawk SP. (Arguably, you might include the Skylane, though it employs 50 more horsepower to cruise at roughly the same speed.) The Archer and Skyhawk have been around for at least four decades, whereas the Star and SR20 premiered less than 10 years ago.

Using Jane’s All-The-World’s Aircraft 2006/2007 or Diamond Aircraft’s Website, you can see how the numbers compare for the four contenders. It’s just about impossible to keep these comparisons from matching apples to grapefruit, but these are the best numbers we could assemble.

The new Diamond Star represents a definite improvement over the previous version, not just a rehash of the original airplane with new paint and a fancier interior. Now that Diamond has introduced the DA50 Super Star to compete head-to-head with the Cirrus SR22, Columbia and Mooney Ovation, the DA40 XL raises the bar in the midpriced, four-seat, fixed-gear class.

NEW From Diamond
Diamond Aircraft has introduced two new versions of its successful DA40 Diamond Star: The DA40 XLS, the top-of-the-line, loaded model with a new Platinum Interior, and the DA40 CS, a four-place, constant speed version, which can be custom tailored to best meet a customer’s personal requirements and budget.

The DA40 XLS retains all the advantages of the DA40 XL—great visibility, fuel efficiency and pilot-friendly handling characteristics—and now offers more room under a wider, higher canopy. Its Platinum leather interior features a long list of XLS exclusives, including a choice of leather colors, aluminum-framed genuine wood inlay accents, engraved and brushed aluminum trim, carbon-fiber sill plates and a distinctive metallic striping package. The WAAS-enabled Garmin G1000 glass cockpit features Garmin FlightCharts and SafeTaxi and other enhanced software functionality, including an ability to fly autopilot coupled procedure turns and hold entries, and to program Victor Airways into flight plans.

Additional Garmin functionality includes a full-screen engine monitoring page and wind vectors on the PFD. The DA40 XLS also comes standard with such safety-enhancing features as traffic (TIS), satellite weather (U.S. only), TAWS-B and a 406 MHz ELT. Additionally, you can upgrade the DA40 XLS with optional active traffic, ChartView, geosynchronized approach plates by Jeppesen and Diamond’s Premium Care program.

The DA40 CS shares all the strengths of the DA40 XLS, including standard Garmin G1000 glass cockpit, and it also enables customers to configure the airplane to their needs, starting at a competitive base price of $259,950. Customers can choose the attractive, durable fabric interior or upgrade to luxurious leather. Those looking for comfortable cross-country cruising can add the Garmin GFC 700 digital autopilot, extended luggage compartment, performance landing gear and extended range tanks. All these options make the DA40 CS a great choice for individual owners, particularly first-time owners, as well as for flight schools looking to add modern appeal and technology to their flight line. For more on Diamond’s newest offerings, visit www.diamondaircraft.com.

SPECS: 2007 Diamond Star DA40 XL

The post Diamond DA40 XL: Polishing The Diamond Star appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

4:19 a.m. That’s what the clock read as I stared at it for the fifth time in an hour. I was trying to sleep and it just wasn’t working. The hours dragged by in my tiny motel room in Afton, Wyo., across the two-lane highway from the Aviat factory where they build Pitts and Husky aircraft. Outside my window, I saw little snowflakes floating off the roof every now and then, dislodged by early risers running to their freezing cars to get the engines warmed up. The rest of the country was well into the lush unfolding of spring, but Afton hadn’t received the memo yet and was still clenched in the fists of a relentless winter. Through gauze-thin curtains, I could see the brilliantly clear Wyoming night.

I was here to see the newest Husky A-1C, with its Garmin G600 glass panel, 200 hp engine and other fineries. I would fly the plane back home to California, across hundreds of miles of Rocky Mountains, through desolate Nevada deserts and into the hubbub of Southern California’s crowded airspace. It was to be a small adventure—one that I had eagerly agreed to when I found out I’d be doing it with an aviator friend, Robert Stewart, territory manager for USAERO, an authorized Husky distributor for the Southwestern United States.

We had been in Afton for a few days—guests of Stu Horn, president of Aviat Aircraft, who had given us open access to his 72,000-square-foot manufacturing facility and its cadre of skilled workers. It was a look deep inside the workings of this unique operation, and one I took full advantage of as I learned how these incredible aircraft are born.

Aviat was the first manufacturer to offer the Garmin G600 glass panel on its new aircraft. A stripped-down version of the G1000, the G600 system provides the Husky with IFR capability.

Aviat produced its first Husky aircraft in 1985. Frank Christensen, designer of the Christen Eagle aerobatic biplane, conceived the Husky after trying to purchase the design of the famous Super Cub from Piper. Piper turned him down, so Christensen decided to start with the basic idea of the Super Cub and improve on it. Super Cub owners had long had a wish list of things they would improve if given the opportunity. Christensen took these ideas, applied computer-aided design (CAD) principles, and “supered” the Super Cub. The result, the A-1A, was certified by the FAA in 1987.

To understand the Husky, you have to understand the environment from whence it comes. Afton, Wyo., is perched at 6,100 feet in a wide valley that’s part of the Salt River Range in the Bridger-Teton National Forest. Afton is one of 13 tiny towns that dot Star Valley on the far western edge of Wyoming and some 130 miles south of Yellowstone. People here go back several generations and are inextricably tied to the outdoors and beauty around them. The pace is slow, and the long winters give locals a patient and caring nature. The deep lapis skies are usually clear, and the air is bone-dry. It’s a perfect place to build airplanes.

On my second day at Aviat, I received a Husky checkout, and it was my first glimpse into what this airplane could do. Above what seemed like an infinite blanket of the whitest snow you can imagine, factory pilot Steve Anderson led us into a small valley, lined with tall pines and small, rounded mountains. “That’s where we’re landing,” pointed Anderson, his head nodding once. I looked out and saw nothing except a small path that led to some barns. “Where?” I inquired, trying not to sound dumb. “That strip there,” he answered. All I saw was more snow.

Full flaps came down, and Anderson slowed the Husky down to 60 mph. It was a pleasure watching this experienced pro casually line up on some invisible runway. I quickly realized the “strip” was the miniscule path I had seen; no more than some mud between snow banks. With ice and mud flying all around us, Anderson put the Husky down and stopped in what I swear was an unbelievable 150 feet. After meeting the strip’s owner and chatting about the weather, it was my turn to fly the Husky back to Afton.

Hold the brakes, full throttle and all three notches of the 60% span semi-Fowler flaps. I held the stick back as we started to roll, and Anderson told me to keep away from the snow banks. I tap-danced on the rudder pedals—mud flying—and bounced down what now looked like a narrow chute. In a few seconds, I could feel the Husky wanting to fly, and it came up like an eager puppy trying to please its owner. This was fun!

At Afton, I made a “standard” Husky landing: One notch of flaps abeam the numbers and slow to 70 mph (the airspeed indicator is marked in mph). Another notch on base, then slow to 60 mph on final, adding the last notch. Anderson had me trim full nose-up as we approached the numbers, and had me add a smidge of power. I did so and put the Husky down so softly that a feather bed would have felt hard by comparison. (Little did I know that my ego-gratifying greaser would come back to haunt me later.) Anderson seemed satisfied I wouldn’t wreck his airplane, so we said our goodbyes, knowing tomorrow I’d launch for California.

Back at the motel, my lack of sleep faded into excitement about the flight ahead. After a huge $4 breakfast, Robert Stewart and I met Horn at the factory on a deserted Saturday morning so he could open the hangar and pull out our ride home through the Tetons.

The Husky can carry a lot of stuff. We loaded four large duffle bags, camera gear, heavy jackets and flight gear into the baggage area behind the rear seat, as well as into the aluminum-lined aft stowage compartment, where Horn showed us how long items (like skis) can be carried. With an empty weight of 1,320 pounds and a gross weight of 2,200 pounds, the A-1C can haul full fuel (50 gallons useful) and two 200-pound people with ease.

It’s important to understand that the newest changes in the A-1C make it a very different airplane from the 180 hp version. While the feel and handling are essentially the same, the various enhancements make a capable airplane even better. The additional 20 hp, for example, yields about six knots better cruise at a fuel burn of about 9 gph (versus 7 gph in the 180 hp A-1C). The J.P. Instruments EDM-930 is linked directly to the G600, giving more accurate range predictions and allowing more exact mixture leaning, among many other capabilities.

Enhancements for the 2009 model include a larger keyed-entry door, vernier mixture control, a lighter and more responsive tailwheel, and the Garmin G600. Aviat is the first aircraft manufacturer to offer the Garmin glass panel, and Horn tells us that most Huskys are rolling off the assembly line fully IFR-equipped. Options include the EVS-100 enhanced-vision system and various wheels and tires.

An extraordinary feature of the Husky is its range and fuel efficiency. On May 12, 2009, Indiana pilot Kris Maynard flew his Husky A-1A for 15 hours, 3 minutes and 20 seconds on a single tank of fuel! He covered more than 1,200 statute miles and averaged 3.156 gph at a groundspeed of 68 knots. The Husky’s not a speed demon, but then again, that’s not what it was designed for.

Back in the Husky’s cockpit, we had the engine started and waited as the frigid outside temperature made the warm-up a slow process. I had time to luxuriate in the 16-G-rated Oregon Aero seats made especially for the Husky. The five-point, padded aerobatic harnesses are a huge improvement in this newest A-1C. They don’t dig into your neck the way the old restraints did. The larger side door also makes getting in and out much easier.

As we climbed, elevator-like, into the indigo blue of dawn in Afton, we both noticed the incredible view. This airplane was made for vistas like these, but we decided to stay low—where an airplane like the Husky belongs—to enjoy the postcard panoramas of this truly grand part of the West. The sliding window on the left made photography a breeze and would be great for summer flying.

Early models of the Husky had heavy ailerons that were redesigned starting with the A-1B model. Our Husky banked without effort, and the spadeless ailerons felt absolutely buttery in the cold Wyoming air. Control pressures were well harmonized in all three axes, though the aircraft used a good dose of right rudder in the climb. The high-capacity cabin heater worked too well, and we settled in for a shirtsleeve flight.

Below us, small towns faded to nothing, and we were all alone above the violet, snow-capped peaks. We showed a consistent 101 mph indicated airspeed throughout the trip, with a miserly 7 gph fuel consumption. There wasn’t a single cloud between Wyoming and California, and we trotted above the vastness, listening to Herb Alpert and his Tijuana Brass on the iPod connected to the Husky’s intercom. This was flying!

Our first challenge was Utah’s 11,750-foot Timpanogos pass—a treacherous tunnel of wind. We approached cautiously and watched for any sign of rough air—ready to turn around while we could. Below us, ragged granite peaks reached up like the gnarled fingers of an old crone, looking to pull the Husky out of the sky. But there wasn’t a lick of wind. We sailed through, looking up at the pine trees and waving at skiers in the distance.

We reached St. George, Utah, and it was my turn to land. By now, the midday heat had churned the air, and the airport—famous for its gusty conditions—had a crosswind. I was supposed to impress Stewart with my tailwheel-landing prowess, but the “smidge” of power I added on final was too much, and we floated down the runway…and floated. The Husky loves to fly, and it’s sensitive to excessive speed. After a seeming eternity, I wonked it down in the worst landing I’ve ever made. My ego battered, I was temporarily assuaged by the Husky’s incredibly easy ground handling. I think I heard Stewart laughing.

We swooped down along the emerald waters of a deserted Lake Mead and orbited Hoover Dam, the Husky serving as our ideal aerie. The Garmin panel became indispensable as we entered the hazy airspace of Southern California, with night coming on and a marine layer threatening. Our tired eyes scanned the glass display as we put down in Long Beach, with plenty of fuel to spare for another go.

I was sad pushing the Husky into the big hangar. Somehow, it seemed out of place with its muddy tires flaking dirt onto the epoxy floors, dirtying the shiny white airplanes around it. But I knew it belonged here. While these other airplanes would transport their unknowing owners across thousands of miles of faceless cross-countries in the clean isolation of 10,000 feet, the Husky would see things its brethren never would. It would know pilots who are happiest with stick on the right, throttle on the left and the sweet satisfaction of a grass landing, or a hidden dirt strip high in the backcountry. The Husky would know it gives confidence—and, in an emergency, options—to its pilots. The Husky is an airplane for adventures. I smiled at the thought and patted my cross-country ride on the nose one last time. We—and the Husky—were home.

Check out the newest Husky and other fantastic single-engine airplanes in our latest Piston Singles Buyer’s Guide.

Building Huskys The Aviat Way While most manufacturers “just don’t build them like they used to,” Aviat still does
“This factory is the longest continuous single-engine piston aircraft manufacturing facility in the nation,” says Stu Horn as I walk his shop floor and breathe in the vintage vibe. It’s a real treat standing in a building that has been making airplanes since the 1930s. For the past 25 years, it has been turning out Huskys and Pitts. This is Aviat Aircraft in Afton, Wyo. The “factory” is really several buildings housing different stages of the manufacturing process and sitting on a five-acre swath of land next to Afton’s only airport. As I tour the facilities, I notice that each building is uniquely dedicated to its own part of the building process while contributing to the whole. As I talk with workers who number their days here in decades, it becomes even more apparent that these aircraft are born, not made. For Husky aircraft, it’s the detail that counts. Take, for example, something as simple as the machine screws used to hold the various body panels and cowling together. Aviat places a tiny nylon washer—by hand—on each screw so that the paint behind it is never marred. There are hundreds of them. While most aircraft are assembled and then painted, leaving unpainted sections of aluminum where panels overlap, Huskies are fitted together, then each panel is removed and individually painted so the entire panel is sealed with paint. Further, each piece of aircraft tubing is oiled inside and seal-welded, then coated with a special epoxy paint sealant prior to assembly. Horn says all this prevents corrosion—something a backcountry airplane is vulnerable to. Paint is applied in a proprietary method, with so many different layers that running your hand over a painted section feels like running a velvet glove over the well-waxed fender of a vintage Rolls-Royce automobile. Wire harnesses are hand-run, Ceconite fabric is stretched and sewn by hand, and stripes are laid out and painted manually. Even the workers at Aviat are different. While I’m sure most would take a Hawaiian vacation over work, each employee I spoke with had a positive, cheerful attitude about working at Aviat. “People ask me what I do and I tell them I get to build airplanes!” smiles Rebecca from the Husky final-assembly building. “I actually love my job.” While Aviat’s methods seem “old world,” there’s much more to it. Robotic machines stamp out aluminum panels as computers track the movement of thousands of parts—some just a fraction of an inch in size. The entire process is amazing to behold and shows the quality and care that goes into the finished Husky; something owners have known for a long time. Ultimately, Horn and his team are quite proud of the aircraft they manufacture, and their past success is proof that attention to detail works. The Husky has consistently been a top-selling aircraft and is recognized for superior craftsmanship and its manufacturer’s dedication to its customers. “What are you doing?” I ask a woman as she meticulously applies scallop-edged fabric tape to stretched Ceconite seams. Her intense eyes follow each inch of the tape. “I’m strengthening these seams,” she answers brightly. “The pinked edges—the scalloped ones—are stronger than the straight edges most people use, and we make them extra wide to make them even stronger. We want to make the strongest airplane we can.”

The post Rocky Mountain High: The Aviat Husky appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

The early morning sunlight glinting off the crystal waters of Lake Pend Oreille (roughly pronounced “pond-o-ray”) and reflecting back off our Husky’s bright-yellow wing is too much for even my military-spec sunglasses to handle. The sky up here in Sandpoint, Idaho, is like a magnifying glass, and the sun is diffused by nothing but unpolluted air. It beams into my eyes like a laser. The vast shag carpet of tall pines below casts long shadows against the lake, and with nothing but unbroken forest around, the thought occurs to me that I have nowhere to go in an emergency. But then I remember the smiling dog painted on my tail and realize I’m in a Husky— the Willys Jeep of the backcountry.

Along with this Husky A-1C and its “new plane smell” (this one has just seven hours on the tach), the other star here is the land itself. Sandpoint, Idaho, is a jewel in the backcountry. A city of less than 8,000 people, it was voted the nation’s most beautiful small town by USA Today. This quaint village of walkable streets, excellent local restaurants and lack of commercialism sits on the shoulders of Lake Pend Oreille, a vast expanse of some of the deepest, bluest lake water in the country. People here are friendly, and like the rest of Idaho, embrace general aviation for its utility and because it’s the perfect aerie from which to see this breathtaking country.

Silverwing is an 18-acre development with 44 exclusive lots at Sandpoint Airport in Idaho.

I’m here with Plane & Pilot Editor, Jessica Ambats, to spend some time getting to know these mountains while she photographs the newest Husky. Aviat has provided the new A-1C, and I’m anxious to learn how this remarkable airplane fits into this landscape. The Husky is built not far from here so it’s a familiar sight in these skies. In an area where an aircraft could never get by on flash alone, the Husky has established itself as an indispensable tool in this land of verdant vistas and hidden backcountry strips.

Sandpoint will be our home base, with luxurious SilverWing Airpark acting as our “command center” from where we’ll launch our adventures. SilverWing is an 18-acre development with 44 exclusive lots that lie on the west side of the runway, directly on Sandpoint Airport. Aside from the convenience factor of rolling out of bed onto a taxiway, buttering your biscuit to the sound of aircraft taking off while looking out over the majestic peaks of Schweitzer Mountain Ski Resort, just 15 minutes away, is tough to beat.

Aviat conducted considerable research in creating physiologically ergonomic seats that protect the occupant while reducing fatigue and increasing blood circulation.

Man’s Best Friend
The year 2012 marks the Husky’s 25th anniversary and brings with it some innovative enhancements. Longtime Aviat President, Stu Horn, isn’t a person to sit on past accomplishments. A heckuva backcountry pilot himself, Horn knows what pilots need to get into and out of these challenging backcountry strips while maintaining a margin of safety. But his urban background and metropolitan sensibilities imbue Horn with a knowledge of what pilots are looking for outside of these craggy peaks and crooked sandbars. The result is that he’s constantly tinkering with the Husky design, adding capabilities while also increasing the Husky’s appeal with the non-bush-pilot crowd. Because of this, the latest Husky achieves that rare balance of an airplane that’s equally suited to a week in the most remote backcountry imaginable, or a 600-mile nonstop jaunt to a business meeting in a shirt and tie. Few airplanes can make that claim.

Along with a slew of other enhancements, the big news for this year is a 50-pound increase in gross weight to 2,250 pounds and a new landing-gear option that adds independent shock absorbers to the bungee-cord arrangement, making a totally different landing-gear mechanism. The gross-weight increase means the useful load is somewhere around 925 pounds depending on configuration, with one of the most liberal CG envelopes out there. All of this simply means you can load the heck out of the Husky, without the CG sensitivity of most other airplanes like it. Nearly 1,000 pounds of people, fuel and gear in a two-place aircraft gives you a lot of flexibility.

Shock absorbers act independently to dampen the spring-back on each landing-gear leg, resulting in less bounce and better crosswind handling.

The gross-weight increase really began with Aviat’s redesign of the Husky’s wing in 2007. Along with giving the Husky a respectable roll rate and spade-less ailerons, Aviat’s engineers also began structural testing on every component on the airplane—a process that took the team well into 2009. To maintain the Husky’s “overbuilt” structural integrity with the gross-weight increase, Aviat added about six pounds of structural modification, yielding a net 44 pounds of useful load. Rather than just tack on more pounds to the gross weight numbers, Aviat reengineered the structure to increase the weight capability safely. The A-1C model is also certified for a tow hook.

Those of us who have landed a Husky poorly know the model’s propensity to hop, especially with tundra tires and on asphalt because of poor technique. It’s certainly not a difficult airplane to land, but we noobs can easily plop it on and induce some cringe-worthy bouncing. Horn and his engineering team decided to breed that out of the airplane, making it friendly to even the greenest sticks.

Husky takes the lead in paint schemes with new colors, matching interiors and various graphics options.

“During a firm landing, the gear splays out and stretches the bungees,” explains Horn. “Like a rubber band, the bungees and gear spring back and create the potential for a hop or bounce.” In a move that’s simply genius, the team fitted each side of the gear with a special shock absorber to dampen the spring-back. The shock absorbs the spring of the gear much like it does road bumps on a car. “They act like wishbone suspension,” adds Horn, “and in a crosswind, they absorb much of the sideload if you land a bit sideways, keeping you on the runway.”

I got to feel the shocks in action on a particularly lousy turn on Sandpoint’s paved runway. Flaring too high, the Husky obeyed my stick and came down firmly on its marshmallow-y tundra tires. I was expecting the usual big bounce and accompanying red face, but the new Husky just stayed on the runway, making me look like I knew exactly what I was doing. Kudos, Stu.

The new A-1C will handle up to 35-inch tundra tires, up from 31 inches on older models. This year adds some exciting interior options, too. In keeping with Aviat’s vision of a more cosmopolitan aircraft, the Husky now comes with an array of interior options that include leather and cloth seat materials with different stitching options and matching sticks, as well as LED map lights and an oversized map case.

I’ve always thought Aviat leads the way when it comes to cool paint schemes, and this year is no exception. For the 25th anniversary, Aviat created six Special Edition aircraft with unique paint and interiors. Several new stock paint schemes and various LED exterior lighting options will help you personalize your Husky the way you want it—as wild or sedate as that may be.

Mountain Adventure
With the morning sun streaming into the cockpit on the ground at Sandpoint, Jim Taylor (Husky’s dealer for the Central U.S.) briefed me on what I should expect from the airplane. I had flown Husky aircraft before, but I’ve learned that each Husky pilot does things a little differently. Stu Horn himself had spent time with me in Afton, Wyo., a few summers back, refining my Husky skills. Taylor had a different take on the bird, so I soaked up what I could of his technique.

Sitting in the airplane, I must confess it’s made for taller people, though Horn tells me that Aviat now offers cushions of different thicknesses for both seat bottoms and backs (Husky seats don’t adjust) for those of us on the shorter side. He also showed me how the bottom of the panel was raised while the top was shortened, compressing panel real estate to accommodate the new Garmin displays.

The tall pines below cast long shadows against the lake, and with nothing but unbroken forest, it occurs to me that I have nowhere to go in an emergency. But then I remember the smiling dog painted on my tail and realize I’m in a Husky, the Willys Jeep of the backcountry.

The new Husky comes with options for two VFR panels and two IFR panels. The VFR panels are centered around the beautiful Garmin 796, along with a solid state artificial horizon and various NAV/COM options, including the Garmin SL30. The IFR panels are based on the Garmin GTN 750 or the G500 or G600. They also include the JPI MVP-50 engine analyzer that can display a true weight and balance and CG location at the push of a button.

“Forget all that pushing-the-tail-up nonsense,” Taylor instructed me as we started the engine and taxied out. “Just hold the stick back and then relax it a bit when you feel it want to fly.” Little did I know that would take what seemed like 200 feet! Before I knew it, we were climbing into the early morning sky.

Four panel configurations are available. The most popular IFR panel features the Garmin GTN 750 and EDM 930 from JPI, while VFR panels can be configured with Garmin units, including the 796, 430W or 530W.

With the sunlit mountains all around me and the lightly whitecapped lake to my left, I was suddenly thrust into a postcard. I was struck by the comfort of the seats until Taylor explained the engineering that went into each one. Not only can the cushion alone absorb 16 G’s of force, the structure adds another 9 G’s. Horn explained to me how the seat and seating angle were set so they rotated your hips forward while moving your shoulders back, opening up blood flow through the area, resulting in much less fatigue and pressure points. They felt great.

The Husky is an obedient pup, never scaring or surprising you. Taylor—like many Husky pilots—prefers a power-off, slow-speed approach, then adding a smidge of power on the flare and setting the tailwheel down first, followed by the mains. It’s pretty standard though it took me a few tries, and I concluded that it would take a few more hours before I really felt proficient; many more to land on those postage stamp-sized strips common in this area. Taylor and Horn make it look easy.

Sandpoint is a gateway to some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve seen anywhere. To be able to fly here is a gift, and the Husky—built like a tank but with the handling of a Cub—is one of the most ideal platforms for it. With a structure that has proven itself many times, this Swiss Army knife of the air has earned its name. Here in the Idaho backcountry, with the Canadian border looming a few miles north and the realities of winter in the air, the Husky gives a pilot peace of mind.

The 31-inch tundra tire option is new for 2012. The landing gear has also been reengineered with shock-absorber- dampened bungees for better ground handling.

As dawn gives way to the machinations of a new day, our options lie almost limitless before us. There’s the prospect of a late breakfast at Cavanaugh Bay—a beautifully kept 3,100-foot grass strip on the edge of Priest Lake, with a stunning view of some of the most crystalline water you’ve ever seen, and a world-class restaurant to boot. Perhaps a hop over to McGee—a remote grass strip with breathtaking views of endless miles of blue spruce, aspens and stands of Douglas fir, with lush grass to throw a camping tent on. Or a dozen others all within an hour’s flying time in the Husky, with enough room for all the gear we can handle and plenty of fuel, too.

Sitting on the grass at Sandpoint and mulling over our options, I catch a glimpse of our Husky sitting silently in the grass, its nose up in the air and its oversized tires looking like giant hiking boots. Overhead, another Husky enters the pattern, and still another calls in from five miles out. As the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the air from the FBO and turns daybreak into a regular morning, I realize these Huskys aren’t really going anywhere. Here in these mountains born of glacial upheaval and tenebrous millenia, these Huskys and their pilots are home.

Check out the newest Husky and other fantastic single-engine airplanes in our latest Piston Singles Buyer’s Guide.

SilverWing Dreaming
One of the best experiences we’ve had with any FBO was at SilverWing at Sandpoint. As it is, Sandpoint Airport in Idaho is a throwback to a golden time in aviation when FBOs were more concerned with a pilot’s needs than making a profit, because both were intertwined. SilverWing Airpark owns SilverWing Flight Services—the only FBO at Sandpoint Airport—and their philosophy of attending to the client permeates everything they do. On the airpark side, SilverWing is truly unique. A luxury fly-in community conceived just a few years ago, SilverWing sits on the west side of Sandpoint Airport with an array of lots that have some of the most majestic views around. Northern Idaho is easily one of the best-kept secrets in aviation, with mountains that climb gently from Lake Pend Oreille, a 65-mile-long freshwater lake the Kalispell Indians named because its shape resembles a person’s ear (“pend oreille” loosely means “ear pendant” in French). Much like Alaska, the entire region is friendly to general aviation having recognized its value in these mountains. SilverWing is just minutes from the lake, so doing pattern work at the airpark puts you over the lake on downwind, making for the most picturesque landing practice you can imagine. SilverWing Airpark is still in the imagination stage, meaning some 44 lots are ready to go, with three sold and several more under contract, but only two structures have been built. Developer John McKeown—who originally purchased the land in 2007—set out to create a fly-in community with three essential requirements. First, it had to be on a public airport with paved runways and instrument approaches that could accommodate private jets. Second, it needed to be in or near a town. McKeown wasn’t interested in a remote development where residents had to travel far for essential services. Finally, it had to be near world-class recreational activities. Sandpoint, Idaho, meets all the bullet points. “The people we want at SilverWing are those who share a common love for general aviation,” says Mike Mileski, one of SilverWing’s developers. “And we’re unique because we sit on a public airport.” Mileski explains that the newly enacted FAA Long Term Reauthorization Act and the FAA’s change in policy on existing “through the fence” agreements means that the Sandpoint airport is in compliance. Sandpoint, Idaho, is a rare town that preserves the backcountry feel of the surrounding Bitterroot Mountains while offering amenities typical in a much larger city. It’s the home of both Quest Aircraft (makers of the amazing “Kodiak” turboprop) and Coldwater Creek—the women’s apparel company. The town is famous for its music festivals and burgeoning art scene. Schweitzer Ski Resort is a few minutes away, and a vast array of camping, mountain climbing and lake sports awaits. The area is perfect for pilots because it offers real backcountry experiences that run from gentle to challenging with everything in between. A pilot doesn’t have to jump from the big city to a 500-foot crenelated sandbar with one-way approaches to get the backcountry experience. There are plenty of beautiful, well-groomed grass strips that offer pilots some of the best flying in the west. Sandpoint is the perfect home base. Mileski says buyers have their choice of five hangar-home designs and can choose from three approved builders for the lots that start at $95,000. The architecture of the airpark takes its cue from the surrounding mountains, integrating exposed wood beams, natural stone and panoramic windows that take in the breathtaking views. “Buyers can also purchase a lot and decide later what kind of residence they want to build,” Mileski adds. “They can also use their own builders or create a custom design.” Lots are ready with utility connections, and plans are being made for maintenance hangars and other amenities for aviator-owners as the airpark develops. Plane & Pilot got to stay in the model hangar-home and it was quite an experience. The convenience of being able to live above your airplane and taxi right out to an active runway while being surrounded by Northern Idaho’s considerable beauty is spectacular. The airpark blends into the mountains to create a cohesive whole. Sitting out on the veranda at SilverWing, watching all kinds of interesting aircraft take off and land started to lull me into a kind of euphoric stupor. For any pilot, this is living. Visit www.silverwingatsandpoint.com.

The post Husky Dawn Patrol appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Royal Canadian Air Force Snowbirds

The assignment was simple—fly over to Lubbock, Texas, spend three days with the U.S. Air Force (USAF) basic training squadron at Reese Air Force Base (AFB), fly the Cessna T-37 Tweet and the supersonic North American T-38 Talon, and write a story on how the USAF trains pilots.

In fact, most of the assignment was easy. The T-38 ride came at the end of the third day, and that was obviously the highlight of the trip. I had recently completed an article on the F-15 Eagle at Nellis AFB, Nev., and the Air Force had been pleased with the result, so they authorized two instructors in a pair of T-38s to fly on my pseudo training mission. Your tax dollars at work.

About halfway through our flight, I asked if we could do a little tail chasing, and the two instructors eagerly agreed. At the time, I had flown about 200 air-to-air sessions for this and other magazines, and I deluded myself into thinking I was pretty good at it. Of course, my airplanes had all been general aviation singles, twins and turboprops, nothing in the performance class of the T-38, affectionately known as the Little White Rocket. I knew ACM (air combat maneuvering) in the T-38 would be far more aggressive.

It was. I fell back into lead’s seven o’clock position, roughly 30 feet left and behind, and my pilot counted down from five to zero. I thought I was ready for an extreme maneuver, but I wasn’t even remotely prepared for what came next. At the count of zero, the leader rolled hard right so fast he seemed to practically disappear before I had a chance to even move the stick.

I could almost hear my pilot smiling into his oxygen mask, “We do things a little quicker here at Reese,” he said.

Back on the ground, the lead pilot said he had pulled about seven Gs in the turnaway, the limit on the T-38.

Fortunately, general aviation formation flying is considerably less demanding. In fact, forming up in a loose flight of two is extremely easy, if you follow a few simple rules. There are a few flight schools around the U.S. that teach formation flying, but by definition, they’re fairly expensive. Learning the skill demands a minimum of two airplanes of comparable performance.

For those learning formation on their own, don’t worry about the legality of your first formation attempt as long as the weather is appropriate, the airspace is clear, both airplanes are in good shape and the pilots are in agreement as to who will do what and when. Good two-way radio contact is mandatory for beginning formation flyers. Don’t even think about launching a formation flight without good radio contact, so everyone knows what’s coming next.

Formation flying skills are a must for anyone racing at Reno.

High wing versus low wing isn’t normally a major problem, though its always best if the high-wing airplane flies lead since the wingman will be below him. If a high wing must fly on a low-wing leader, he’ll want to maintain a slightly higher station, to let lead keep him in sight. Once again, when both pilots become proficient at formation, lead won’t be looking back at his wingman.

Ideally, launch your flight as close to the middle of the day as possible, so the light source will be high, and no one will have the sun in his eyes. Photo formation sometimes demands a low sun, but it’s not necessary for practicing formation flights.

Regardless of whether you’re departing a controlled airport or an uncontrolled runway, try to keep the leader in sight during the departure and climbout. If you’re flying from a controlled airport with a tower, ask the controller for a sequential release so the wingman can depart directly behind the leader without any aircraft in between.

No matter how good you think you are, formation takeoffs aren’t a good idea unless you have military experience (in which case, you probably won’t need to read this article, anyway.) The question becomes academic at many controlled airports, as local authorities often forbid any form of formation departure.

You may have to wait a few minutes for a hole in traffic that will allow release of two aircraft, but it’s worth it to avoid having to poke around looking for each other in the sky. Keep the leader in sight at all times, but if for some reason you do lose visual contact, agree to meet over a given checkpoint at a specified altitude.

Lead will always reach his altitude first, so he should plan to reduce power to perhaps 45% or less to help the wingman catch up. If you’re flying wing and aren’t catching lead, ask him to make a few standard rate S-turns, always returning to the primary heading. This will allow you to turn inside his arc and catch up quicker.

Don’t consider any plan that suggests, “Let’s meet over the VOR at 4:30 at 5,500 feet.” A VOR, NDB or other navaid is the worst possible place to meet. Cross-country traffic may be using that checkpoint for transition through the airspace, and that’s no place to be looking for your formation buddy.

Conversely, be aware that’s it’s a very big sky, and you may be surprised how difficult it can be to spot another airplane at “5,500 feet circling over the big, red barn.”

Don’t be in a hurry on the form-up, though the join will depend partially on the drag profile of the wingman’s airplane. I once flew a TV air-to-air session in a Bellanca Super Decathlon, flying rolls, loops and hammerheads; then rejoining for some closeups. The Super was a wonderful acro trainer, but its drag profile was fairly high. I found I could fly forward to practically a line abreast position, chop throttle and practically match the camera ship’s speed in place.

Normally, however, be advised that what looks like a fairly slow overtake from a mile back suddenly becomes very quick when you’re only 100 yards behind. Better to take your time and ease into position, rather than expect to fly up and stop in place. If you’re having trouble catching lead, ask him to throttle back a little. Graduate your rate of overtake so you can slip into position easily.

You’ll discover later in formation flying that it’s sometimes easier to fly a precise position in close than farther out, but plan to start off at least five single wingspans away from the leader. On most general aviation aircraft with spans of 30 to 40 feet, half of that is 20 feet, so you should consider stepping into position 100 feet out. That’s plenty close for your first experience.

It’s important that the airplanes be evenly matched in performance. (Given no other choice, I once flew an air-to-air photo session in a Citation, flying on a Skyhawk photo ship over Sedona, Ariz., and that was probably the least fun I’ve had in an airplane in the last 50 years.) Mooneys, Bonanzas, Comanches, Malibus, Centurions and other models in the 150- to 170-knot class do well with each other. Similarly, Skyhawks, Cardinals, Warriors, Archers, Tigers and similar 110- to 125-knot types also are usually harmonious.

Air show flying also requires good close-in flying skills.

You’ll make the task more comfortable if the lead airplane flies a target indicated airspeed 15 to 20 knots below max cruise, perhaps 130 knots for the retractables and 110 knots for slower, fixed-gear models. This isn’t a race, and those speeds should guarantee good control response and good overtake with reasonable stability.

Altitude is pretty much your choice, but smooth air and uncongested airspace are the ideal. It’s important to stay as far from other traffic as possible, as formation flights always seem to attract looky-loos who’ll sometimes want to join in the fun.

The most comfortable formation position is left echelon, with the wingman stepped back and slightly down for easier visibility. Two other common formations are line abreast/side by side, and line astern/aircraft nose to tail. The latter two are slightly more difficult to fly, so stick to echelon in the beginning. There’s no wake to worry about, as there may be with line astern.

The usual rule in a two-plane formation is that lead looks for traffic and advises his playmate of any possible conflict while the wingman concentrates on simply holding the desired formation position.

In other words, perhaps contrary to what some folks believe, the leader has major responsibilities during formation flight. He’s charged with finding smooth air (if possible), making any maneuvers slow and gentle with plenty of warning to the wingman, looking for traffic and keeping speed at a reasonable number. Any climb or descent also needs to be slow and deliberate. The whole idea is to keep any maneuvers as unhurried as possible. If you haven’t flown formation before, merely holding a straight-and-level station will be challenging enough.

Since most general aviation airplanes seat the pilot on the left, the wingman should probably form up on the left side of lead so the pilots can keep an eye on one another. Later, when everyone is comfortable with standard formation, the leader should be able to concentrate on flying his position and not having to monitor his wingman. (That’s one reason most military fighter aircraft seat their two-man flight crews in tandem rather than side by side. A fighter pilot flying wing can fly left or right echelon with few restrictions to visibility.)

Lead can make everyone’s job easier by announcing well in advance what he plans to do so wing can prepare for the maneuver. During photo formation, we use the five-second rule. If lead wants to turn left or right to a new heading for a better sun line, he should announce, “Turning left in five seconds,” and give his wingman the chance to say, “No turn,” if he’s not ready. Even a gently banked heading change will cause the inside airplane to fly a tighter circle at a slightly reduced speed, so if the wingman is flying slightly out of position, more in line abreast, he’ll have more trouble adapting to a left turn.

Conversely, if he’s flying farther aft, and the turn goes away from him, he’ll have to work harder and use more power to catch up.

Don’t be afraid to apply whatever throttle is necessary to hold position. If you have speed brakes, by all means use them to help you decelerate when you’re too fast. I once flew with the Royal Canadian Air Force Snowbirds in their little, two-seat, side-by-side Canadair Tudors, and the airplane’s large speed brakes, mounted on both sides of the aft fuselage, had been modified to deflect fully in about a second. With nine airplanes in the full formation, the Snowbird pilots were experts at rejoins, and their ability to tuck all Tudors into tight formation was a joy to behold.

You can trade lead back and forth by flying out wide at the same altitude and powering past the lead as soon as he says he has you in sight. When you’ve assumed lead, you should announce, “I have the lead,” and it’s your playmate’s turn to fly on you.

Just remember the cardinal rule of formation flight: The wingman always keeps his leader in sight. If wing loses the leader, he should announce, roll away in a safe direction (usually left) and start the process all over.

The post Formation Without Perspiration appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

If you’re determined to fly fast in today’s market, you have a number of options to consider. Those with an unlimited budget can simply buy a Citation 10 for $24 million and fly confidently, knowing they’re operating the fastest civil airplane in the sky.

More realistically, however, budget-conscious buyers tend to lean more toward the Embraer Phenom 100 ($4.1M), Cessna Mustang ($3.5M) or Eclipse 550 ($3.2M). The HondaJet 420 is another possibility at about $4.8M, but that may be outside the province of entry-level jet buyers.

For at least the last quarter century, there have been a variety of single-engine turboprops that have offered economical alternatives to the small jets, traveling at near-jet speeds at a lower purchase price and with more economical operating costs.

By far, the fastest of these are the DAHER TBM models known as the 700, 850 and 900. I flew one of the first TBM 700s back in 1991 when I co-hosted the ABC-TV show, ABC’s Wide World of Flying, and I’ve been in love with the type ever since.

Recently, I flew the newest and best of the TBMs, the TBM 900, flying with Danielle Quinn and John Hobkirk of AVEX in Camarillo, Calif. AVEX (www.newavex.com) is the world’s largest TBM dealer, and it typically delivers about 10 new TBMs a year, plus another 20 or so pre-owned DAHER turboprops.

AVEX co-founder Terry Winston has been responsible for DAHER sales of the French turboprop in the Southwestern U.S. for the last decade. He arranged for me to fly a new TBM 900 with demo pilot Hobkirk riding shotgun and Quinn along to answer questions about the new model.

The TBM 900 project was initiated shortly after DAHER acquired TBM in 2009. To that end, the new owner canvased existing TBM customers to analyze their wish lists. The preceding TBM 850 was no slouch. It had sold some 180 units in the first four years of production, but DAHER knew it could do better.

As a result, the company initiated a 40-million-Euro program of research and development to improve the TBM line. DAHER used computational fluid dynamics on what was known internally as the “Century” project.

Development of the 900 was undertaken in the strictest secrecy, and hardly anyone outside the Tarbes, France, manufacturer knew of the project. In fact, even Terry Winston of AVEX wasn’t aware of the new model until he went to France to inspect the first of his 2014 models.

Externally, the 850 and 900 appear fairly similar, except for the winglets. Take those away, and pilots unfamiliar with the type would be hard-pressed to tell the difference between the 850 and 900, though there are some major improvements. Danielle Quinn and I walked around the airplane during the preflight, and she pointed out the upgrades.

All TBMs, from 1991 to 2015, are precision machines. Quality control is nothing short of excellent. The airplanes levitate behind a chronograph of an engine, the near-legendary Canadian Pratt & Whitney PT6A-66D. The TBM series flies like it should have Breitling instruments and Northrup controls. This dedication to quality and precision carries through to the new TBM 900.

The TBM900 can manage 330 knots at FL280, only 10 knots less than the Cessna Mustang.

Approach any of the TBM turbine models from the rear, and you can’t help but notice the airplane’s huge flaps. Collectively, they cover 78% of the wing trailing edge. That’s because the French military was one of the launch customers back in 1991, and it insisted the airplane have a stall speed of no more than 53 knots flying light and dirty. That’s a phenomenal stall for such a high-performance machine. The only realistic way to comply with that requirement was to install a pair of Fowler flaps that occupied most of the aft trailing edge of both wings.

This didn’t leave much room for ailerons, so DAHER added spoilers that would improve roll rate and maintain reasonable control harmony.

The result was a TBM with the widest operating envelope of any airplane with a propeller. Red line is 266 knots and dirty stall is 53 knots, so the TBM 900 enjoys a performance ratio of five to one. “That becomes especially important when we’re transitioning new owners out of Mooneys, Bonanzas and Malibus,” said Quinn. “Eighty-five knots isn’t out of line for the big piston singles, and it also works well for the TBM.”

DAHER mounted a pair of the aforementioned two-foot tall blended winglets on the wingtips of the TBM 900, primarily to improve low-speed handling at high angles of attack. The company tried a variety of winglet configurations, but the swept, precisely sculpted shape of the final design complimented the airplane’s swept lines. In combination with aerodynamic rethinking of the ailerons, vertical stabilizer and inner gear doors, the net profit is about three knots.

One of the major changes to the new airplane is the standard crew door that allows a pilot to arrange his passengers in back, make certain they’re all properly strapped in, then close the aft door and enter the cockpit through his own entrance, rather than having to make his way forward in the aisle. The cabin is 48 inches wide by 47 inches tall, so all but great apes in back should be comfortable, but the crew door makes ingress/egress notably easier. The small, left-front door does add 45 pounds to empty weight and another seal to inflate, but virtually all owners generally love it.

The original TBM 700 was limited to 700 shp for takeoff. Now, the TBM 900 unleashes the full 850 shp of the P&W PT6A-66D turbine, not only for takeoff, but also for climb and cruise as high as FL280. Max thermodynamic horsepower is 1,825 shp flat-rated to 850 shp. Both the 850 and 900 use the same engine, but the 900 benefits from efficiency improvements in both the induction and exhaust system that allow it to use 850 shp under all conditions.

Left: (Prop from rear): A major change on the TBM900 was the paddle shaped, five bladed, Hartzell prop. Center: Gear is of standard oleo construction with full enclosure. Right: SOCATA’s main cabin door opens up and steps fold down.

During the power analysis, DAHER’s engineers discovered that the exhaust stacks were causing turbulent flow and power loss. The angle on the stacks was too sharp. Accordingly, DAHER rounded the exhaust stack to even the flow. One peripheral benefit was less soot on the side of the airplane.

Under the hood, the starter/generator has been pumped up to 300 amps and the standby alternator has been boosted to 100 amps. Access to the engine is now through a lightweight, carbon-fiber door on the left side.

Panel: TBM900 features an enhanced version of the popular Garmin G1000 flat panel display.

One curious idiosyncrasy is a small strake mounted on the belly near the left wing root leading edge. Aerodynamic testing revealed turbulent flow at that position, and the strake was installed to smooth the airflow and improve low-speed handling.

Out on the pointy end, the 900 mounts an impressive, five-blade, Hartzell semi-scimitar prop to translate power to thrust. The prop’s contour is custom designed for the TBM 900 and features curved, swept blades that are contoured in chord and width. There’s not a flat section to be found anywhere on the new prop. “Hartzell owns and operates two TBMs,” Quinn explained, “so the project was especially meaningful for them.”

Another change is that the prop is mounted with no more than an inch clearance from the air intake. This increases ram pressure, and again, improves power, especially at high altitude.

Interior: The airplane’s cabin measures 48 inches across by 47 inches tall.

The TBM 900 uses pneumatic deice boots that actually create the wing leading edge. The real leading edge is flat, mounted about five inches behind the boots. This leaves a cavity between the forward wing and boots for running electrical and pneumatic lines. The boots are overlaid on the wing to form the actual leading edge.

Also, deice boots are installed in three segments on each wing, so that a bird strike or other anomaly won’t necessitate removal and replacement of the entire leading edge.

Fuel is characteristically contained in the wings—291.6 gallons (1,954 pounds) in total. At a typical high cruise burn rate of 60 gallons/hour, you could plan easy four-hour legs, five hours at reduced power settings. Under most conditions, fuel management is unnecessary, as the fuel selector will automatically cycle between tanks every five minutes.

Single Lever Power Control: SOCATA incorporates prop, condition and thrust levers in a single control.

Beneath the wings, the TBM benefits from a simplified two-door gear enclosure. The original model 700 had a three-door system, with one door inboard and the other two outboard. This led to an occasional gear-sequencing problem, and DAHER redesigned the system to eliminate the inboard door and still fully enclose the wheels.

Not surprisingly, the new design was more aerodynamically efficient. DAHER estimated the underwing cleanup was worth five knots of additional cruise.

Inside the airplane, the biggest change is the switch to a single, fist-grip power lever. Gone are the prop control and the condition lever present on other turboprops. The prop is now automatically regulated at a constant 2,000 rpm by an on-board computer. The condition lever’s function is incorporated into the single control.

A fringe benefit of the single power lever is that the center power console is now narrower, making it easier to climb into the crew seats.

The avionics package remains the popular Garmin G1000, three-screen PFD/MFD, plus the proven G700 autopilot. The demonstrator aircraft also was fitted with Garmin SVT (Synthetic Vision Technology) that introduces Garmin’s version of virtual reality. This ignores weather and presents a constant moving image of the terrain ahead, right down to the center stripes on the runway. The refresh rate is about seven times a second, so the image seems almost motion picture quality.

We boarded the demonstrator on a warm day in Camarillo with an IFR flight plan filed for FL280. The load was three souls and full fuel. Some manufacturers shy away from full fuel on press demo flights, as flying lighter always improves the numbers, but AVEX was so confident of the airplane’s ability that it had filled the tanks.

Start is fairly automatic in the TBM 900. Starter and igniters turn off at 50%, and the airplane settles into a high idle. Release the brakes, and you’ll start to move forward almost immediately. Check pilot Hobkirk suggested I use the prop’s beta range for speed control rather than brakes. It’s easier on the airplane and minimizes the characteristic, high-pitched scream of a turboprop.

Pre-takeoff checks (door closed, engine running) complete, the TBM 900 is ready to fly. Release the brakes, advance the thrust and the airplane begins to devour asphalt faster than you’d believe. Acceleration comes on like a light switch if you hurry the thrust lever, not a surprise considering that power loading is only 8.7 lbs./hp. You’re virtually guaranteed a quick dash to rotation. Point the nose uphill, and the TBM 900 climbs as if something bigger is chasing it.

The prop’s contour is custom designed for the TBM 900 and features curved, swept blades that are contoured in chord and width. !Another change is that the prop is mounted with no more than an inch clearance from the air intake. This increases ram pressure, and again, improves power, especially at high altitude.

Lifted off and pointed up, I saw an easy 2,000 fpm initially, though LA Center didn’t allow us to ascend directly to our planned altitude of FL280. We step climbed through 4,000, 12,000, 18,000, 23,000 feet and finally topped off at FL280. DAHER suggests the airplane can manage a direct climb to FL280 in 16 minutes, and in view of our uphill performance at lower altitude, I believe it.

Leveling at cruise, we watched the TAS readout on the G1000 count up through 315 knots, then slowly increase to a final 320 knots. To no one’s surprise, in the middle of a Southern California summer, outside air temperature at altitude was ISA +10 degrees C. Correcting for the warm conditions, the TBM 900 would have been managing 331 knots.

All the new TBMs are RVSM certified, and if we’d bothered to climb to the airplane’s max certified altitude of FL310, we would have seen 326 knots at a reduced fuel burn. Long-range cruise is just greater than 250 knots at 31,000 feet, burning 45 gph.

Pressurization is automatic on the TBM 900, and the 6.2 psi differential allows a sea-level cabin at 14,500 feet. Climb on up to 31,000 feet, and the cabin will level to just less than 10,000 feet.

If the stage length is a long one, you can plan on ranging as far as 1,730 nm (NBAA reserve) in the TBM 900. Virtually any of the jets will need a stop.

Once we had our cruise numbers on tape, we dropped down to 16,000 feet for some slow-speed maneuvering and stall checks. Stalls haven’t changed on the 900. The onset of stall is easily predictable with plenty of aerodynamic burble. Hold the yoke full back at the break, and the airplane will pitch straight ahead, with little tendency to drop a wing. The airplane is basically as stable as a table and happiest in straight and level, high-speed cruise.

Back in the pattern to check landing manners, there are, once again, no surprises. If you’re sneaking into a 3,000-foot strip, you can approach at 90 knots or less without concern. The TBM 900 doesn’t tend to float in the flare, and it’s easy to gauge your height above the runway. Should you need to plunk it on and stop it short, full reverse and hard braking will ground the TBM 900 in 1,500 feet or less. Remember, however, not to maintain reverse thrust below about 30 knots on turf or dirt runways, or you could blow debris out ahead of the airplane and suck it back into the intake. Pratt & Whitney’s inertial separator guards against engine damage, but as with any turbine, the best rule is “don’t” if you have any doubts.

Inevitably, any value analysis of the TBM 900 devolves to price. A fully equipped DAHER TBM 900 runs about $3.8M, roughly the same as a Cessna Mustang and slightly more than an Eclipse 550. Pretty obviously, both of those jets are 10 to 30 knots faster than the TBM 900, but neither have the TBM’s range. The Mustang and Eclipse also are certified for flight at FL410. Conversely, both the jets must support two engines rather than one.

Such buying decisions rely as much on emotion as logic. Personally, I’d love to buy a jet with my next big lotto win, but the almost mythical reliability of that beautiful Pratt & Whitney engine and the striking asymmetry of the five-blade prop would probably answer all the questions for me.

The Perfect Travel Tool

By Bill Cox

One of the TBM 900’s most impressive talents is its ability to outperform virtually every other turboprop on the market, do it with better economy and even keep up with some light jets in cruise.

George Schaeffer of Schaeffer Industries in California is one example of a TBM 900 owner who uses his airplane to maximum advantage. Schaeffer operates a series of steel processing facilities in Linden, Utah, and Mira Loma and Stockton, Calif. His company services clients all along the West Coast, and Schaffer is a hands-on kind of owner. “This is my second TBM. I traded a TBM 850 for this airplane and flew a Mooney Bravo before that.”

Schaeffer was building an Epic until that company went bankrupt “and things got pretty murky,” he said. “I looked at both the Eclipse and the Phenom, but both cabins were too small for my needs.”

Schaeffer picked up his new TBM in November 2014 and flies at least three times a week on legs of 300 to 800 nm. “It’s a nearly perfect tool for my travel needs,” said Schaeffer. “I’m usually flying fairly light, so I consistently see climb that’s better than book.”

The steel executive usually flies as high as possible, sometimes at the airplane’s maximum altitude of FL310, “though I’d love to see TBM extend that to FL340,” he commented. “There’ve been several instances when I was just barely clipping the tops of the clouds at 31,000 feet, and another 2,000 to 3,000 feet would have been ideal.”

Schaffer feels the TBM 900 is an excellent combination of speed, comfort and efficiency. “I generally see about 320 to 325 knots on 55 to 60 gph, and I’ve witnessed the promised 330 knots several times. Most every number in the POH is realistic. If it’s in the book, the TBM will do it.”

The owner bought both his TBMs from AVEX in Camarillo, Calif., and he credits AVEX owner Terry Winston as an outstanding dealer. “If TBM comes out with a model 1000, Terry can probably plan to see me again.”

For more information, visit www.newavex.com.

The post TMB 900: DAHER Builds A Nearjet appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Seamax M-22
Price As Flown, minus delivery:	$160,000
Basic Price:	$150,000
Length:	19 ft. 10 in.
Wingspan:	33 ft. 6 in.
Wing Area (sq. ft.):	130
Cabin Width (in.):	46.9
Empty Weight (lbs., base model):	720 (currently being recalculated for upgrades, likely below 750 lbs.)
Engine:	Rotax 912 ULS 100 hp
Max Fuel Capacity (gals., dual wing tanks):	26.5
Usable Fuel Types:	Premium auto fuel, AVGAS 100LL
Max Takeoff Weight (lbs.):	1,430
PERFORMANCE
Maximum Speed (mph, kts.):	130/113
Cruising Speed (mph, kts.):	115/100
Stall Speed (mph, kts.):	36/31
Endurance (hours @ cruise):	5
Rate Of Climb (ft./min):	1000
Takeoff Distance:	400
Landing Distance (ft.):	500
Source:	Contact: www.seamaxamerica.com

The post Seamax LSA appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Pilot reports can only tell you so much. Back in the glory days of aviation, when the industry was selling 18,000 units a year, manufacturers used to provide airplanes to magazines for several days or even a week for evaluation. In those happy times, we’d wring out the airplane in every way possible: short-field takeoffs and landings; 75%, 65% and 55% cruise at several altitudes; the full gamut of stalls; an examination of CG concerns, and sometimes, even a run to the service ceiling. That’s not so much the case anymore. As the market has dropped from 18,000 to 1,800, manufacturers no longer have demonstrator aircraft just sitting around, so pilot reports often are confined to an hour or two of flying with a company pilot.

!And in some respects, that may not be so bad. Pilot reports don’t reveal every aspect of an airplane’s personality, anyway. What we often miss in a pirep is the personal touch of an owner’s opinions. What does he or she like most about his airplane? After a hundred or a thou­­sand hours, what would he change if he had the chance?

Therefore, forthwith and to wit, we decided to ask some owners for their opinions on three light jets—the Cessna Mustang, the Embraer Phenom 100 and the Total Eclipse 500. There are several hundred of each model available, so it’s not hard to find owners willing to talk to us about the airplane’s positives and negatives. We listened carefully, and here’s what they told us.

Cessna Citation Mustang 510
Bill Maudru is president of a construction company based in Napa, Calif., and has occasion to travel all over the U.S. on demand for both business and pleasure. He has been flying for a half-dozen years, and his previous airplane was a Cessna Grand Caravan.

“The Caravan was a great aircraft for local travel around California. It could haul a ton of people and equipment (literally), and with all the doors and ladders, it was an easy airplane to load, even with a forklift,” Maudru explains, “but inevitably, we wanted more speed. We had the airplane on a dry lease with two other companies, and it was working well, but our two lessee clients agreed faster would be better.”

Bill Maudru flies his Mustang 510 regularly to Santa Maria, Calif., to visit a job site. He considers it the best plane for his missions.

Cello & Maudru Construction did some careful analysis of their own travel experience and that of their Part 135 clients, and determined that they rarely traveled with more than four people aboard. “We looked at single-engine turboprops, twin turboprops and the gamut of other competitors,” says Maudru, “and there was one airplane that stood out as ideal for our type of operation.”

As a result, the company traded up to a Cessna Citation 510 Mustang jet in late 2010. “The Mustang looked to be nearly a perfect fit for our business, and that’s exactly the way it has worked out,” Maudru comments. “The biggest benefit has obviously been speed. We’re flying as quick as 340 knots, almost exactly twice as fast as we did in the Caravan, and that opens up travel benefits we couldn’t have considered before. For example, we have a job site in Santa Maria, Calif., that we visit often, and the ability to cut travel time in half means we can spend more time on-site, and less time getting there and back.

“We also travel up and down the West Coast on a regular basis, usually with a pilot and two or three passengers aboard, though we have operated several times with all six seats full,” Maudru continues. The advantage of pressurization and so much extra power allows us to cruise high above most of the weather in smooth air and sunshine, rather than have to slog it out down low in IMC conditions.”

Maudru flies the Mustang himself on many trips, and the company employs a corporate pilot for Part 135 operation. Most of Maudru’s hops are relatively short range, 700 nm or less, “so we don’t necessarily need the full 2730 pounds of fuel,” says Maudru. “We’ve had about a dozen occasions to fly coast-to-coast to our partner company in North Carolina, and we can do that in one day, fairly consistently eastbound, with one stop in someplace like Wichita. It’s not so easy coming back—usually two stops or even three if the winds are strong up high—but it’s still a very comfortable trip. Our baggage arrives when we do, and no one has to take their shoes off.”

Maudru suggests book numbers have proven fairly conservative, and the airplane will beat them most of the time. “The FADEC system on the P&W engines is fairly foolproof. You set power and forget it. The FADEC takes care of all adjustments during climb and cruise. We see an initial 2,000 to 2,500 fpm on initial climb, and I fly the Mustang at FL400 or 410 on any leg longer than 1.5 hours. I simply select the ‘cruise’ detent and let the computer do the work. Fuel burn up high is only 400 to 450 pounds/hour (60 to 67 gph), not that much more than our Caravan at twice the speed, about 340 knots at optimum altitude.”

With bug speeds at typical landing weights down around 95 knots, the Mustang can operate easily into any strip of 4,000 feet or more. “The carbon-fiber brakes are great, so we really don’t miss the lack of thrust reversers,” Maudru remarks.

With bug speeds at typical landing weights down around 95 knots, the Mustang can operate easily into any strip of 4,000 feet or more. “The carbon-fiber brakes are great, so we really don’t miss the lack of thrust reversers,” Maudru remarks.

The only negative on the airplane isn’t really a complaint. “We’d love to have an extra 200 nm of range, but if we did, we’d probably want still another 200 nm,” the pilot laughs. “For our company right now, the Mustang is almost ideal. I can’t imagine a better airplane for our missions.”

Embraer Phenom 100
In 2006, Ron Gruner of Boston, Mass., decided he was ready to step up to a jet. He had been flying his friendly Cessna 195 for 2,000 hours, and his travel needs dictated that he consider something faster and more comfortable. Gruner had a vacation home in Naples, Fla., and the 1,050 nm trip back and forth was just too time-consuming in his classic Cessna.

“The Sun ‘n Fun Show in Lakeland is well-known for showcasing many of the best aircraft in general aviation,” says Gruner, “and in 2006, I dropped in to see what might be my next step.” Gruner was especially interested in the SOCATA TBM-850, the Eclipse 500, the Cessna Mustang and the Phenom 100.

LEFT: Ron Gruner’s Phenom 100 over Maine. RIGHT: Nancy Gruner with instructor Ben Marcus after Nancy’s third annual Pinch Hitter Course.

A serial entrepreneur involved in the computer and internet industries, Gruner had utilized a number of aircraft for corporate travel. He stopped by the Eclipse booth at the Lakeland show, and though he was impressed with the technology, he felt the cabin was too small for his needs. He had the same opinion of the TBM-850. “They were both very exciting machines, and the build quality was impressive, but the lack of an onboard lav disqualified them both for our applications.

The Phenom 100 spoils you in almost every respect,” says Gruner. “As far as I’m concerned, its performance puts it at the head of the pack.

“I visited the Cessna Mustang display, and that airplane was very attractive, plush and comfortable, and fitted with a raft of automatic systems,” Gruner explained. “The FADEC system was especially impressive.” Trouble was, the cabin didn’t seem quite large enough for the CEO’s needs.

Finally, Gruner visited the Embraer booth, and in his words, “I struck gold. The Phenom 100 was almost the ideal airplane for my needs. It had slightly more powerful Pratt & Whitney engines with essentially the same FADEC system as the Mustang. At the time, the 100 was only about $500,000 more than the Mustang, it had a large cabin, and there was an onboard potty.”

Gruner put down his deposit, in hope that Embraer would certify the light jet in two years. “As it turned out, it was late 2009 before my airplane was ready. My wife and I plus a check pilot flew down to the factory in São José dos Campos, Brazil, I went through the transition course, and we flew the airplane home a short time later. Today, I have over 700 hours in the Phenom 100, and the airplane just keeps getting better.”

Gruner operates his Phenom 100 on a regular basis for both business and pleasure, and everyone who flies with him loves the jet. “It’s an easy airplane to fly, and the systems are fairly idiotproof,” Gruner comments. “I regularly cruise between FL350 and 410 and see 335 to 340 knots up high. Optimum altitude for speed is FL300, where you can manage slightly over 390 knots under the proper conditions.”

The Phenom 100 uses a version of the Garmin G1000 flat panel avionics that Embraer calls the Prodigy system. Gruner feels it’s not that tough to use, but acknowledges that it takes a while to get used to. “There’s so much capability there that it took me a full year before I was playing it like a piano.”

His only reservation about the Phenom 100 is the braking system. “Embraer is working hard to improve the airplane’s ABS braking. For now, it’s a little fragile, but we can still get the jet into pretty much anyplace we want.

“The Phenom 100 spoils you in almost every respect,” says Gruner. “If I fly high, I can get by on 520 pounds/hour. I’m well aware that fuel is only one of the costs of operating a jet, but as far as I’m concerned, the Phenom 100’s performance puts it at the head of the pack.”

According to Feingold, the Total Eclipse is a nearly ideal airplane for his purely personal missions.

Total Eclipse 500
Gordon Feingold of Santa Barbara, Calif., is one of those lucky people who’s realizing a goal that many of us have—to retire at a relatively young age with his own personal jet and the means to travel extensively.

Late last year, Feingold took delivery of a Total Eclipse 500 and turned 60 at about the same time. “It’s a dream my wife and I have had for several years, to see the world the way we want to, and now we’re doing just that,” says Feingold.

Feingold isn’t new to the joys, rewards and challenges of aviation. He has been flying for some 35 years and made a living as a professional pilot when he was a young man. “Aviation was an exciting occupation, but it didn’t take long before I realized it would be difficult to make a decent living as a pilot,” Feingold explains. “I worked in a number of capacities, including flight instructing, but eventually, I decided to branch out into other fields.”

Today, Feingold is the retired CEO of System Dynamics Incorporated, a turnkey system integrator for precision manufacturing and measurement using laser sensors. The CEO’s new job in semi-retirement is enjoying his Eclipse.

Feingold has owned a number of airplanes working up to a jet, a Bonanza and two Cirrus SR22s, a normally aspirated and a turbocharged version, and he says there were several similarities between all of the aircraft. “The common ingredient in all my aircraft has been passion. It was obvious to me that the folks at Cirrus had a great passion for their products, and when you buy a Cirrus, you’re buying into that dedication. Similarly, Mason Holland and his team at Eclipse are building an airplane with the same kind of passion.”

According to Feingold, the Total Eclipse is a nearly ideal airplane for his purely personal missions. “The airplane provides us with an easy three hours of endurance, so 1,000 miles between pit stops is no problem. We’ve removed the aft two seats to make more room for luggage,” Feingold comments, “and that allows us to carry pretty much anything we wish on our trips.”

The CEO reports the Eclipse does almost exactly what the book says it will. “The 500 will get off and up at an easy 2,000 fpm and will manage 40,000 feet in about 40 minutes at our typical weights. I fly in the high 30s most of the time, which provides a good compromise between speed and fuel burn, and that usually yields an easy 350 knots. The pressurization system is ideal for us. At 41,000 feet, the 8.3 psi differential allows a cabin altitude of 8,000 feet. If we’re operating down at 30,000, we can practically pressure the cabin to the ground. That helps minimize fatigue, so you hardly know you’ve been flying six miles high.”

Feingold, a former vice president of the Cirrus Owners and Pilots Association, feels the Eclipse is the perfect airplane for his missions, though the 500 itself isn’t perfect. “The lack of anti-lock brakes can be a little exasperating, but Eclipse is working on that, and we rarely have occasion to fly into short fields, so it’s not a major problem for us. I have 140 hours in the 500, and I’ve never seen any significant handling problems on the ground or in the sky.

“Synthetic Vision would be nice, and that will be available on the 550, but again, it’s not a major disadvantage for us.

“Our hope is that Eclipse CEO Mason Holland can make a go of the Eclipse program in this economy,” Feingold says. “It will be a challenge, but if anyone can do it, he can. He has passion.”

The post Owners‘ Analysis: Eclipse, Mustang & Phenom appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Shortly after I purchased my first airplane in 1968 (a Globe Swift), I shared an executive hangar with a Ryan PT-22 and a Big Yellow Stearman, the latter owned by a retired Pan Am captain. Yes, it was one of those Stearmans, a totally restored prize winner, a perfect example of time standing still. It was as perfect as unlimited money and several thousand hours of TLC could make it. Doug was fanatical about his airplane and also given to a certain amount of whimsy.
I rode with him several times, but they were always rides, not flights, as he’d conveniently removed the front stick, so no one else could actually fly his airplane. As it happened, his Stearman’s registration was N22747, and Doug, characteristically irreverent, took every advantage of the N-number.

He flew the airplane regularly, and said he delighted in contacting approach control at Long Beach, called simply SoCal in those days, and announcing, “SoCal, this is Boeing 747 at the east tip with Oscar. We’d like the ILS to Long Beach.”

Doug chuckled that the controllers were always amazed when they assigned him a discrete squawk and identified his airplane on radar, flying the approach at 70 knots. The next call from ATC was usually something like, “Say again type aircraft.”

These days, I have another friend with an equally pristine Boeing Stearman, Mike Hanson of Westminister, Calif. Hanson doesn’t fly many ILSs in his Stearman, real or practice, but he and his vintage Boeing model 75 are a common sight in the skies over Southern California. His airplane is a fully restored Navy N2S3 trainer, a 1943 model, one of the 10,346 built by Boeing as primary flight-training machines during World War II, and used all over the world as a military trainer. Since the airplane never saw combat, there was little to demilitarize after the war, and thousands of Stearmans were sold as surplus.

Hanson is a roofing contractor by trade, and as he admits, he came by his classic airplane in perhaps the best/worst way possible. He inherited it. “I had a good friend in the early 1990s who owned this airplane and a Bonanza,” Hanson explains. “He dearly loved his Stearman. When he died a few years later, he willed it to me, and suddenly, I became caretaker of a treasured piece of aviation history.”

Since then, Hanson and his wife, Kendle, have established their own freelance barnstorming business (www.biplanefun.com) out of Compton, hopping rides above the spectacular Palos Verdes coastline. The Hansons have logged some 2,000 hours in their classic Boeing in the last 13 years.

Unlike some antique flying machines that seem to sit in their hangars, the Stearman isn’t a shop queen. Hanson reports maintenance hasn’t been that difficult, partially because of the number of airplanes still on the registry.

Lloyd Stearman created the first Stearman in the early ’30s and subsequently sold his company to Boeing. The then-Wichita-based company later won the contract to provide basic trainers to the Navy and Army Air Force, and the Stearman (sometimes branded by students as the “Yellow Peril”) was the airplane of choice. The model 75 had spruce wings, tube-steel fuselage and fabric covering, and was considered dramatically overbuilt for its mission, so well constructed that back in the mid ’30s, each airplane cost just over $11,000 to produce (in contrast to a Beech Staggerwing B17L that sold for $8,000). Translated to today’s dollars, you could probably buy a decent used Lear 23 for equivalent money.

Stearmans were fitted with a bewildering variety of radial engines, everything from Continentals and Jacobs to Lycomings and Wrights, ranging in hp from 220 to 420. Mike Hanson’s Stearman Kaydet features the original seven-cylinder Continental, rated for 220 hp.

After the war, the airplanes were pressed into civilian service and modified as necessary with such improvements as wheel pants, a cowling and speed fairings. These were employed as barnstormers, air show/wing walkers, mail planes and a hundred other jobs, some retrofitted with the huge Pratt & Whitney R-985 engine, boosting power to 450 hp. Hundreds of Stearmans were converted to crop dusters by simply mounting an aerial applicant tank up front and spray booms beneath the wings.

Hanson’s airplane, like many of the early Stearmans, was equipped with a wood prop that provided limited performance. Hanson flew with the wood blades out front for the first thousand hours. “I call those the ‘good-for-nothing’ props, in between good climb and good cruise,” says Hanson. He later retrofitted his airplane with the ground-adjustable all-metal McCauley prop, and picked up 10 knots cruise. (A Hamilton-Standard also is available.)

That’s not to suggest cruise was a Stearman strong point, whatever the prop. With the drag of two open cockpits and accompanying wind shields, guy wires, struts, landing gear and two fat wings hanging in the wind, the Stearman has all the aerodynamic sophistication of a boxing glove. It’s surprising that the stock Stearman managed the speed it did, about 90 knots. With 43-gallon tanks topped and a burn of 13 gph, the Kaydet has 2.5 hours endurance plus reserve at max cruise, enough for 230 nm range.

The airplane has a baggage compartment behind the aft pit, approved for up to 60 pounds. Typical useful load was about 750 pounds. Hanson’s payload works out to a generous 492 pounds, two big folks and all the luggage you can stuff inside the baggage area.

With two wing walks, you can climb aboard from either side, but tradition suggests you treat the airplane like a thoroughbred—mount from the left. Step up on the wing, throw a leg over the sidewall, step down onto the seat and ease your rear end into the chute/cushion.

Taxiing with that big radial engine straight ahead requires the usual S-turns to clear the taxiway. Fortunately, that’s an easy process (at least, it was on Hanson’s airplane) with the steerable tailwheel and good toe brakes. Pivot the Stearman back and forth, and alternate looking out the left side as you pivot right and vice versa to see what you’re about to hit.

Hanson and I launched from Compton with smoke on and another Stearman in loose formation. The tail flies up quickly, and the procedure is to balance the airplane on the mains.

We headed out to the practice area in the Catalina Channel off Long Beach. Flying at what was probably near-gross weight, the Stearman managed about 500 fpm at a cruise climb of 75 knots.

As Hanson had advised me, “On paper, there are far better airplanes, but I think you’ll find there’s just something about a Stearman.” He was right. The Kaydet flies lighter than it looks. I had anticipated heavy controls and plenty of adverse yaw, but rudder requirements didn’t seem excessive. Normal turns left and right were gentle and not especially exciting, but that’s exactly what you want in a military trainer.

If you’re riding front pit as I was, there are brace wires and struts ahead that correspond with 35 and 60 degrees of bank, respectively. Wrap the horizon over to 60 degrees or more, however, and you’ll find you need far more nose-up pitch than you imagine to hold altitude. I did what I thought was a nice, steep 360 with the nose barely above the horizon—and promptly lost 200 feet. No VSI. Oops.

Stalls are a non-event, with no tendency to roll over the top and spin in either direction unless you insist on it. I didn’t. Departure stalls offer no surprises. In fact, the Stearman is nothing if not predictable.

No matter how enthusiastically you fly the airplane, rest assured it will take more than you will. During my flight with Hanson, I flew some gentleman’s aerobatics, several roll/loop/hammerhead combinations with a max four G pull, and the airplane soared right through them without complaint. It’s also approved for snap rolls, spins and all combinations in between, Cuban eights, loops with a snap on top and most other inside tricks. My acro certainly wasn’t all that proficient, but the Stearman did its best to make me look good. That’s exactly the idea.

The Stearman’s roll rate isn’t especially impressive with ailerons on the bottom wing only, probably about 50 degrees/second. Another set of ailerons on the top wing is a common mod that would boost the roll rate for air show application.

Landings were always a challenge in Stearmans, especially for flight cadets struggling to master the big biplane before moving on to the AT-6/SNJ. The Kaydet sits tall on its stout main gear, and the three-point attitude is so steep, standard technique is to wheel it on in a reasonably level stance; then, lower the third wheel to the ground once you’re sure the runway ahead will remain clear. Hanson has over 2,100 hours in his N2S3, and prefers wheel landings over three point touchdowns.

With no flaps to lower the nose and slow the approach, Hanson likes to cross the fence at 70 knots and plans a flat touchdown at about 55 knots. “The Stearman is a dream to fly, but for most people, it’s a nightmare to land. Far better Stearman pilots than I have groundlooped the airplane, so I try to always be VERY careful on landings,” says Hanson.

The Stearman is certified to withstand +12/-9 Gs. As a frame of reference, consider that’s well above the limits for the current F-16 fighter. Such strength made the Kaydets tough trainers during World War II, willing to endure the worst that pilots could inflict.

The story goes that two military instructors at a World War II training base in East Texas decided to test the Stearman’s strength. They were deadly bored with the job of educating cadets to the ways of the sky in Boeing Kaydets. Their assignment was especially frustrating, because they knew many of the young men they were training would soon be flying fighters against the Germans, exactly the duty they longed for.

The two instructors were assigned to do a return-to-service check flight on a recently repaired Stearman, and hatched a plan to have a little fun. They climbed to 10,000 feet just off the Gulf Coast, completed their basic flight tests and determined the airplane was basically sound.

They trimmed the Stearman for straight and level flight at full throttle, then rolled inverted and pulled through to a vertical dive. When the airspeed was maxed out, prop tips screaming beyond Mach 1.0, the front pilot nodded his head (no intercom in those days) and both instructors simultaneously pulled back on their respective joysticks as hard as they could.

When they came to, the Stearman was placidly chugging along straight and level, totally undamaged.

The post The Littlest Boeing appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Husky A-1C
Base Price:	$211,000
Engine Make:	180 HP Lycoming 0-360-A1P
Propeller:	Hartzell 76 Constant Speed
Wingspan:	35 ft. 6 in.
Length:	22 ft. 7 in.
Wing Area (sq. ft.):	183
Gross Weight (lbs.):	2500
Empty Weight (lbs.):	1275
Useful Load (lbs.):	925
Cargo Capacity (cu. ft./lbs.):	10/50
Aft Stowage (cu. ft./lbs.):	9.3/30
Wing Loading (lbs./sq.ft.):	12
Fuel Capacity (gals.):	50 (50 gals. usable)
PERFORMANCE
Top Speed (mph):	145
Cruising Speed At 75% Power (mph)	140
Cruising Speed At 55% Power (mph):	130
Vso (Power Off, mph):	53
Vso (Power On, mph):	43
Takeoff Distance (Full Flaps—Land, ft.):	200
Rate Of Climb (ft./min.):	1500
Landing Distance (Full Flaps—Land, ft.):	350
Fuel Consumption At 55%
Power (gals./hr.):	7.7
Range At 55% Power (miles):	800
Source:	Aviat

The post Husky A-1C appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

I elected to overfly the LA Basin and head out to Catalina to check on fire damage from the island’s recent forest fires. My passenger, Jack, was a new private pilot, still excited about everything to do with airplanes and eager to progress on to higher ratings and faster equipment. My little Mooney was the quickest thing he’d ridden in (except for Boeings), and he was convinced it was a truly wondrous machine. (Obviously, he’s a very astute pilot.)

As we began our descent over the Catalina Channel, well south of Los Angeles Class B airspace, I left the power up and popped out the speed brakes. Jack was fascinated as two aluminum brakes per side arced up out of the wings and began to disrupt the airflow.

The Mooney responded as if it had flown into a wall of Jell-O and tried to decelerate, but I pushed over to hold the same speed and watched the VSI swing down to a 1,000 fpm descent. Predictably, the ride was a little rougher, as the brakes interrupted the smooth flow of air across the wings.

I maintained the same speed and gradually reduced power as we descended into thicker air. Vertical speed increased slightly on the way downhill, but airspeed remained the same. As we approached the airport, I reduced power even further, extended the rubber to meet the asphalt and turned downwind at 1,000 feet. I was careful to explain everything that was happening to Jack to minimize any concerns he might have.

Jack had never seen such effortless descent control, and he commented that this was the only way to fly. I noticed him looking out at the right wing twice during the approach but thought nothing of it.

I touched down normally and exited the active runway. As I was switching to ground control, Jack said, obviously a little irritated, “Do you know you left the speed brakes out during the landing? You could have killed us.”

I couldn’t help smiling a little at his question, but I knew better than to dismiss an honest concern by a passenger, pilot or not. “Jack, that’s not the way it works,” I said, and to prove it, I asked ground for a taxi back for one more time around the pattern. I left the Precise Flight speed brakes (www.preciseflight.com) extended on takeoff and until we reached pattern altitude, then asked Jack to put his hands on the yoke, close his eyes and tell me when the speed brakes were extended.

No big surprise, he couldn’t do it. I deployed and retracted the binders several times during our circuit. At a typical 80-knot pattern speed with gear and flaps extended, there was no perceptible change in the Mooney’s handling as the brakes cycled in and out.

That, in fact, is one of the primary benefits of speed brakes. They provide aerodynamic braking when you need it and have essentially no effect when you don’t. They’re an ideal advantage for those slam-dunk, go-down/slow-down directives that some nonpilot controllers love to command. Speed brakes double parasitic drag instantly and provide easy glidepath control.

Pilots who operate turbine equipment are very familiar with speed brakes and refer to them as “the boards.” Virtually all jets include speed brakes as standard equipment, and many turboprops also feature aero braking to help slow things down.

Turbines need glideslope help by the nature of their operation. They must operate far up in the flight levels to realize any semblance of efficiency. A Malibu JetPROP, for instance, burns about 34 gph at max cruise up at 25,000 to 26,000 feet, its normal cruise height, and delivers around 260 knots. Descend to 18,000 feet, however, and fuel burn remains 34 gph while speed in the thicker sky drops to about 230 knots, somewhat less efficient. For that reason, turboprop and jet drivers like to stay as high as possible for as long as possible.

Flying higher means more altitude to lose during the approach, however. Turbine aircraft, airline or corporate, are nearly always pressurized, so descent rates of 2,000 fpm or more are reasonable and common without causing passengers any discomfort. Trouble is, most turbine equipment is so aerodynamically clean that simply pushing the nose over, even after reducing thrust to idle, may sometimes drive airspeed through the barber pole, better known in piston parlance as the redline. Jets are clean machines, often sporting glide ratios of 18 to one compared to nine or 10 to one for most piston aircraft.

Speed brakes or spoilers are the answer. They hold speed in check while allowing the pilot to maintain a manageable descent rate. They can be deployed right up to the aircraft redline without undo stress on the surrounding wing structure. Despite the dramatic effect they have on ride and attitude, they place little stress on the wing spar.

Spoilers have an extra benefit for piston airplanes. In addition to artificial speed reduction, they can be especially helpful in reducing shock cooling in some private and corporate piston models. There’s still some debate about the negative effects of shock cooling, but most engine shops agree that quick cooldowns of big-bore engines are a bad idea. Different metals expand and contract at different rates, and the more consistent you can keep temperatures inside the engine, the better.

Joe Polizzotto, manufacturer of the world’s most popular GA engine analyzers, J.P. Instruments’ EDM series (www.jpinstruments.com), says shock cooling is a definite factor in premature failure and reduced TBO on engines over 250 hp. His instruments have an electronic page that indicates shock cooling. “Lycoming issued a recommendation a while back suggesting no more than 50 degrees per minute of cooldown,” says Polizzotto, “and any abrupt increase in airspeed or reduction in power could easily generate much more than that.”

With or without speed brakes, an occasional operating practice in big twins, such as Commanders, Cessna 421s, Dukes and Chieftains, is to actually lean the mixture slightly during letdowns to run the engines hotter and compensate for the cooling of descent.

The beauty of speed brakes for piston airplanes is that they allow you to descend at cruise speed without reducing power or increasing the flow of cooling air through the cowling. Speed brakes allow you to leave the throttle(s) alone during the initial letdown, then reduce power gradually to maintain a reasonable descent profile. Chop and drop approaches aren’t necessary when you have the speed brake option.

Some piston pilots have a philosophical objection to speed brakes, arguing that it’s a cardinal sin to deliberately fly a fast airplane slow. In the VFR world where pilots can pretty much do their own thing, that’s partially true. Most pilots of unpressurized piston airplanes plan their descents for 500 to 700 fpm, dependent upon such factors as wind, terrain, turbulence and temperature.

This means if you’re descending from a 10,500 cruise altitude to a near sea-level airport, you’ll need to start down somewhere between 19 and 14 minutes out. Letdowns quicker than about 800 fpm may cause some passengers problems in equalizing air pressure in their ears. A properly executed descent and approach can recover some of the time lost in climb and improve block speed.

Spoilers commonly come in two varieties, depending on aircraft type. Most piston singles employ a pair of bridgework-style brakes that rotate up out of each wing (they’re usually mounted to the rear spar just forward of the outboard flap hinge). This allows for maximum lift disruption with a minimum of structure and weight, but not in the critical forward portion of the chord. Larger aircraft such as 421s and other corporate twins employ larger, rectangular “boards” to block more air, but produce the same result.

(Military airplanes may mount spoilers practically anywhere, on the sides or top of the fuselage, on top and/or bottom of the wing, even on the vertical stabilizer. These can be huge and have dramatic effects. I flew with the nine-plane Canadian Snowbirds team many years ago, and their little Tudor jets mount large speed brakes on the sides of the aft fuselage, providing them with spectacular braking action for rejoining formation after breakup maneuvers.)

The concept and design of speed brakes is so simple that flying with spoilers installed doesn’t demand a nuclear brain surgeon. Unlike flaps that may be partially extended in piston aircraft, spoilers or speed brakes are all or nothing. You either need them or you don’t. Glider pilots learn to use spoilers in their first hour of training, and without the benefit of power, they must rely on them to help regulate descents on practically every flight. Extending the boards is a little different than operating with a clean wing, but there are rarely operational problems.

Asymmetric deployment is an obvious concern, though it’s a highly unlikely event. If one brake begins to deploy and the other doesn’t, a sensor will automatically clue the rising brake to stop and retract. Even if you did suffer a full asymmetric deployment, the companies that produce spoilers are required to demonstrate easily controlled flight with one up and one down. Icing is sometimes a concern and can cause delayed deployment or only partial extension.

Sadly, the principle of TINSTAAFL (there is no such thing as a free lunch) still rules. Nothing is free, and installing speed brakes will subtract from both your payload and your bank account. Payload reduction is minimal, about nine pounds, and there’s little or no performance loss (although the brakes do require cutting a slot in the top of the wing, it’s so far aft that airflow is usually long since separated). There’s no noticeable drag penalty when the brakes are stowed.

The brakes themselves and the actuation mechanism aren’t too expensive, but installation is fairly labor intensive. My Mooney mounts a set of electrically activated Precise Flight brakes, and installation required about 40 hours of labor. Fill in your own shop rate, but you’ll probably pay at least $3,000 for the install.

Speed brakes are approved for a wide variety of airplanes. As mentioned above, Precise Flight of Bend, Ore., is perhaps the most prolific producer of GA speed brakes. Precise Flight has certified several dozen aircraft models for speed brakes and has delivered some 6,000 systems since 1982. Another prominent manufacturer is Spoilers Inc. (www.powerpacspoilers.com) of Gig Harbor, Wash., which specializes in spoilers for corporate twins like Cessna 300/400s, Dukes and Aerostars.

Call them what you will, speed brakes, spoilers or boards definitely aren’t for everyone. They wouldn’t offer any significant advantages installed in a Warrior or Skyhawk, and it’s unlikely you’ll see them on any LSA. If you fly anything from a Lear to a Bonanza, however, speed brakes can help control glidepaths, reduce shock cooling, facilitate speed reductions to maneuvering, flap or gear limits and lend a welcome assist when it’s time to return to the runway.

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