Kingsbury workday and Model T action

Having a free Saturday, I decided to go down to Kingsbury Aerodrome, where they were having a work day. I figured I'd spend the day being involved in the restorations down there, rather than just taking pictures. So off I went.

The first things that greeted me - apart from the other volunteers of course - were this pair of shop cats! They're only about a year old. I'm not even sure they have names, apart from 'Kitty', but they are super cute! Here's the two of them:

This one was later curled up on my lap. She seems to enjoy attention more than the other one, who just likes to be nearby the activity. She has an asymmetric marking on her forehead, unlike the other one (closest in the picture above). I guess that's how you tell them apart. Readers of my other blog will not be surprised to see cats finding their way in here ;-)

So, to work. I elected to help Tom and Steve work on the Thomas-Morse biplanes. We started off on Tommy 1, putting nuts onto all the bolts holding the bottom of the fuselage together. This is a look from the tail towards the nose, but the fuselage is upside-down here.

Next, they had me painting the ends of the turnbuckle assemblies, to be black like the rest of the metalwork. Some were done already but many were still unfinished.

See all the wires inside the fuselage here? The ends of them are where you find the turnbuckles. They tension the wires correctly.

It doesn't sound like a lot of work, but these tasks take time, and soon it was lunchtime. Everyone gathered outside, and this was to be my chariot for lunch - Cameron's Model T Ford!

Here is Kingsbury's Model T truck parked outside Edna's Country Cafe, in Kingsbury town. It is one of those tiny towns that exists mainly due to the railroad, that passes by on the other side of the highway.

After lunch it was back to work - with the wind in our hair from those open top cars - and my next task was to fasten some anti-chafing leather discs in between the bracing wires on Tommy 2. These get secured with a twist of wire.

Finally, we installed the flight control stick and rudder pedals. You should be able to make out the black stick angled slightly back, and the loops to put your feet into, here. We tried to install the horizontal black engine mount bracket towards the front here, but a lack of thin enough washers made that a task for next time.

However, my day was not yet done - I wandered outside and got into conversation with several folks, and when it transpired that I did not know how to drive a Model T, gasps of astonishment were uttered and they soon fixed that! Cameron set about giving me a driving lesson in the Model T Truck :-)

Here is the truck, seen at the last Air Fair:

So, here is how you drive one. It does not have a layout like a modern car. It has a wheel, under which are two levers. These are your spark retarder (I left this alone) on your left, and the throttle on your right. You have three pedals; left = first gear/drive, middle=reverse and right=brake. If you want to use reverse, you'd better have small feet, since the pedals are really close together. There are two levers rising up from the floor, one on each side of you. The left one is for both handbrake and gearing. The right one is also for gearing.

Model Ts have two speeds at any one time, but the right lever can choose whether to use low speed or high speed gearing. There are also controls for mixture and choke but we won't worry about those here.

To make it go, you put the ignition switch on, press the starter button on the floor with your heel (in this one; others have a hand crank start). The leftmost floor lever should be in the middle position which is neutral. Press the left pedal - and keep it held down - and that's you in first gear, and moving. If you now push the left lever forward, it adds the opportunity of second gear. But to engage it, you lift your foot off the pedal and it will then go into second.

The ride is pretty smooth - suprisingly. I expected to be bouncing around all over the place in an old car like this but it's not like that at all. It actually feels like you have big balloon tyres, except you don't, they're quite thin and hard. We ran around the airfield for a bit, the first lap in the low gearing and then into the faster speeds for the second go round. Although the controls sound complicated, they're really not that hard to get your head around, it's easy enough. You do have to make sure you're prepared for a wide turning circle and the heavy steering. But as Cameron pointed out to me, these cars were built to run on unprepared roads, wagon tracks and fields, so they do handle it pretty well.

To stop the car, you have to press the left pedal half way until it goes into its own neutral, between first and second, then press the brake. And pray that you have done this early enough to not hit obstacles ahead of you, since it takes a little time to come to a halt.

Finally, here is a short video of the Model Ts on the road - real roads, with modern vehicles around! And some gratuitous train action, which happened to come along at the perfect time :-)

Hot Rod Revolution

Alan and I attended the Hot Rod Revolution show at Camp Mabry last Saturday. I like hot rods, they look like a lot of fun, and they have wonderful shapes, colors and textures.

Here's a taster - come and check out the photo gallery.

Redbird Skyport

Friend Doug and I paid a visit to the new Redbird Skyport facility in San Marcos airfield. It opened just the other day, so I wanted to go and see what it was all about. The Skyport is both an FBO and a new pilot training centre, housed in a fabulous new building next to the new control tower.

Redbird is a local company that makes flight simulator machines. They make both desktop and full motion simulators, which are configurable to become a wide variety of different aircraft, and at a very afforable price so that more flight schools can get their hands on them. The Skyport's emphasis is on using the simulators for a large part of the flight training syllabus.

Their aim is to get students trained to their Private Pilot Licence within three weeks, and use the simulators for half of their instruction. The other half will be done in one of Redbird's two extra shiny new Cessna 172s, fresh out of the factory. These have full glass cockpits, leather seats and are a million miles away from your average training bird.

While time in an actual aircraft remains greatly important, the simulators offer new capabilities. Students can train in whatever weather is present at the time of their class. It only rains in the sim if you want it to. There's also a 'pause' button, so when the student gets into a sticky situation, the student and instructor can have a discussion about how it came to be, without any other distractions (like having to fly the plane, for example). The instructors can also introduce engine or instrument failures, without the giveaway of the instructor reaching for the mixture knob, so the student has to identify what has gone wrong before she can fix it. Simulators are also a lot cheaper to operate than an aircraft - prices range from $25 to $55 per hour depending on which machine you are using.

I was lucky enough to be given a chance to try one of the full motion simulators. Here's a picture Doug took of me in it:

Regular readers will know that while I have been pretty lucky in the getting-stick-time department, I have yet to undergo any formal flight training. And when someone lets you fly their plane, it tends to be control of the stick and rudder and maybe the trim. I think I have operated the throttle once (last year sometime) and have yet to use the flaps in anger in a real aircraft. So you'll understand that being suddenly presented with the full kit and caboodle was a bit of an eye opener!

The simulator was set to being a Cessna 172 and we were parked at the hold for runway 13 at San Marcos. Just like it would be if we stepped outside. I pushed in the throttle a little ways; found out I needed a bit more - going too fast! - pull it back. Step on the right rudder to try and turn onto the runway. Nothing happens. Turn the wheel just in case; no, that wasn't going to work - step harder on the rudder - oh, there we go. I lined up in a very wobbly fashion - never taxied an aircraft before! - and pushed the throttle in about 3/4 of the way. The engine spins up, the aircraft leans forward and we're moving. Push it in the rest of the way for takeoff.

Airspeed increased to about 80 knots and I haven't the faintest idea what takeoff speed in a Cessna is meant to be, but it's probably around there somewhere so I pulled back on the stick and up we went. Sure enough, San Marcos airfield is visible below.

Here is where it gets interesting. The sim is certainly very realistic looking straight forward. The panel is laid out before you in the exact configuration you'd see if you went outside and sat in the real Cessna. In the picture below, you can see the instruments, which are drawn on another computer screen. You might be able to see the black knobs next to some of the instruments; these are affixed to a perspex panel that can be removed and changed when another aircraft type is required.

You can really feel the motion in the sim, too. I made a left turn out of the airfield and the control forces were very apparent. The horizon tilts, along with the whole machine, and you really feel like you're turning. Apparently the machine doesn't actually move as much as you think it does but your brain gets fooled into feeling the motion. There's a lot of wriggling and vibration too; not enough to annoy but enough to make you believe you're in a moving aircraft.

However there are also limits. The wraparound screen is great with its 180 degree field of view, but you can't look back over your shoulder, or above or below the screen arc. This makes it hard to gauge where you are in relation to the airfield when you're flying away or parallel to it. I was also tending to massively overcorrect in my control inputs; I'm not sure why that should be, but my left turn went into a bit of a dive before I could wrangle it back into approximately level flight. Then, I wanted to try landing it, but when I turned back around I was way too close to the runway. You can't tell, during a turn, until you're within 30-40 degrees of where you need to be pointing.

I went around again, paying better attention to my turn this time, and attempted to fly further away from the airfield to have a better chance of lining up. I think I rolled out just inside the bare minimum distance at which one might properly attempt a landing... but being concious of using our host's time, I wanted to get this puppy on the ground. So there I am, at a thousand feet with the runway not very far away. I pulled the throttle back to slow down a bit. What's next? Oh yeah; need some flaps.

Here is where I forgot that the flap switch really isn't an 'on-off' device, there are increments in there too. I flicked it all the way down, at 100 knots. I am sure the aviators reading this will be laughing here - can you guess what happens next? Yup, the barn doors hang off the back and I nearly ripped the wings off.... the nose yoinks up (you can feel that one alright), we get floaty and higher and I am internally cursing. Back off the throttle and wrestle the nose down... kind of aiming at the runway now in a dive-bombery sort of way... round it out, flare, plant it a tad too firmly on the tarmac with only minor damage to the undercarriage, honest! Once reminded of the toe brakes, I pulled the throttle all the way out and halted the aircraft.

I have always wanted to know if I'd be able to land a plane if I had to. I guess the answer is 'probably', as long as you don't necessarily expect it to be usable afterwards... but then, this kind of thing is what simulators are for. And they say that any landing you can walk away from is a good one, right?

Thank you to the staff of Redbird Skyport for being so accommodating, enthusiastic and friendly. I hope one day perhaps to return as a student.

Footless Halls of Air

Racer Jason was kind enough to take me for a quick flight in his Vans RV-8 after the SARL race at Taylor last Saturday. What had been a very dull, overcast, gusty kind of a day turned into a broken cloud evening, with calmer winds. The sun played golden light over the tops of the clouds, and we wended our way through the holes; up into the hills and valleys of ghostly fabric hidden from the ground.

Jason let me fly for a while, before sending us rolling upside down over the cloud peaks. Such fun :-)



While we flew, I thought of this famous poem. I'm sure you have all come across it before, but just in case...

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

— John Gillespie Magee, Jr

The Mighty T-28 Trojan

On Friday 18th November 2011, I got to fly the North American T-28 Trojan!

Two T-28s arrived for the last SARL air race of the season, at Taylor, TX. One flown by Joe Dickerson and the other flown by Chip Lamb. They are two of several pilots to fly these particular airplanes. The two aircraft are often seen at air shows, known as the Trojan Phlyers. Here they are in 2008 at the Bluebonnet Airshow in Burnet, TX:

No sooner had they shut down, than Joe jumped out and beckoned me over. We made our introductions, and he began to show me his aircraft.

This particular aircraft is a T-28B model, flown by the Marines. Built during the 1950s, these aircraft were used as primary training aircraft by the US Air Force, Marines and Navy. The original A models had 800hp engines and were replaced by the B model, which has a 1425hp 9-cylinder Wright Cyclone engine. Top speed is over 340 mph. The Navy chose C models which had shorter prop blades for better ground clearance, and tailhooks for carrier use, although they were not as fast. The B model is the rocketship of them all.

The T-28 is a really tall aircraft, over 12 feet high. Standing next to it, there is a wall of fuselage reaching above you. It has massive ramp presence. Getting in requires some climbing. The flap hangs down at a steep angle. It contains two foot holes with sprung covers that push back when you put your foot in there. A hand hold on the wing allows for some purchase, from which you can haul yourself up onto the walking surface at the wing root.

Once up there, Joe showed me how to get into the cockpit. There is another step set into the fuselage wall. Put one foot in there, grab both sides of the canopy edges and step over onto the seat. Drop down into the surprisingly roomy cockpit. He had me sit in there for a few minutes while I signed the inevitable waiver (three pages of close-typed legalese) before climbing out again in a reverse sequence.

Now I was to put on the parachute. Chip gave me a hand putting on the harness - much like putting on a jacket - before the webbing straps are pulled through from underneath and crossed over in front. It ends up nice and snug. It's not going anywhere (which is a good thing!) although it feels odd having your centre of gravity moved further back, with the weight of the parachute under your bum. Although it would most certainly be welcome if anything went wrong, its main duty is as seat padding.
Thanks to Mike Thompson for this picture:

Climbing back into my seat, it was time for a safety briefing. The T-28 has a hydraulic canopy. If we lose hydraulics and have to get out, there is a yellow handle to the left of the seat, which discharges a compressed air bottle to blow the canopy back. This is for emergencies only, naturally. Normal exit procedure is for the pilot to command the canopy to roll back, then we would stand on the seat, grab the parachute ripcord handle with the right hand, and dive out to aim for the wing. You're not going to hit the wing, but you want to avoid hitting the tail. After that, pull the rip cord and hopefully float back to Earth.

I was soon strapped into my seat. The strap harness has a locking mechanism, controlled with a small black handle to my left. For takeoff and landing, this must be locked down, which holds you fast in your seat. In level flight this can be unlocked, which allows you to lean forward and move more freely.

While Chip had been dealing with me, Joe had been doing his walk-round checks, and now we were going to fly! Joe settled himself in his seat up front and made his cockpit checks. Then he started the engine. This is always a momentous event in a T-28, when the relative peace of the airfield is shattered by the whine-cough-clatter of that big Wright motor beginning to turn the shiny three-blade prop. Smoke billows from the exhaust as avgas is converted into colossal amounts of noise, then the smoke clears as the engine spins faster. We sit for a while as the engine warms up.

Joe closes the canopy to allow me to mount my cameras. He gives me warning to stay clear, then both halves slide forward smoothly on the rails. He would normally do this later on, as it can get very warm inside, but it's actually a pretty cold day for Central Texas so we're OK. I plug two cameras onto the canopy with sucker mounts and set them going.

We start to taxi from the ramp towards the runway, but only for a short distance. Joe stops us at a taxiway intersection for power checks and run-up. This takes a little while, longer than for smaller aircraft; I guess there's a lot of engine to manage, and oil to get warm. After a few minutes of this, he turns us around and we continue towards the runway.

We hold short for a moment to check for traffic, then take the runway. Joe holds us on the brakes while he increases power, then he lets go and we surge forward. The T-28 gains speed quickly and we are soon airborne. It climbs quickly too; we are whisked up into the sky in very short order. You can see here that I am enjoying this.

However we don't gain much altitude before Joe dives for the race start line at Macho Grande, which is very close to Taylor. He wants to make a practice start for the race tomorrow. We come swooping in and zoom down the runway there, before climbing back up seemingly effortlessly, but only up to 2500 feet. We can't go much higher due to the cloud base; it's not the most aviation-friendly weather but that's the luck of the draw.

I can feel already that this is one big, solid airplane. The wind is gusting to 30 knots but we are not bouncing around the sky as a light aircraft would do. Joe makes a turn to the left and the T-28 just takes us there. Joe wants to go around the Dam Turn (turn 4 of the race) to go back and practice finding Turn 5, a small and elusive farmhouse lake, not like the dead giveaway Granger Lake in the picture here:

He swung us around that turn and we headed back south. We found the lake and flew around it so that Joe could recognize the local area during the race. Then, to my very great surprise, he asked if I wanted to fly the T-28! I was certainly not expecting to be able to take control of this aircraft, so I was delighted. Taking the stick, I began to get a feel for the plane.

Here's the panel:

The throttle is to my left, along with elevator and aileron trim. To my right is a small lockbox with barf bags in. I am happy to report that I did not need those ;-)

I already mentioned that this is a big, heavy aircraft - you can feel this even more when in control of it. After a short amount of straight and level flight, Joe suggested I make some turns, so I did. Nice, ordinary normal rate turns to begin with. These were not hard to do; the control forces are relatively heavy but they are consistent. There's a lot of mass to this aircraft. I've been lucky to have a good amount of stick time in several light aircraft, mostly Vans models, which have very light stick forces. A Vans RV-7 weighs around 1400 pounds. This is certainly a contrast to the T-28, whose empty weight is over 6400 pounds. You have to definitely tell the T-28 you want to turn; really move that stick over and then the aircraft will happily comply. Here's me flying it:

I found it easier to maintain my altitude in the T-28 than in other aircraft. Perhaps being so heavy on the controls, I am not making enough movement in this aircraft to affect it so much. Or maybe the large mass and momentum just take longer to overcome. Either way, I was happy about this, and was able to make some fairly level turns. Last week's lesson from the PT-22 about rudder pedals helped too; the ball stayed mostly centered during the turns. See, Joe's hands are up on top of the panel - this is my airplane!

Joe suggested I make some steeper turns, so I banked it over to 45-50 degrees and we went around in some tighter circles which was fun. The aircraft feels very planted the whole time; even with the gusty winds it did not twitch around the sky. We skirted Taylor airfield to the south; I made sure to give it a wide berth with all the other racers flying in and out for their own practice. Joe had me make a gentle descent down to the 1600 foot circuit height, and we made a turn towards the airfield. Joe took back the aircraft and slotted us into the pattern.

We slowed down and rounded the corner from downwind to base to final, approaching the runway at around 100 knots. We touched down with a slight crosswind, the aircraft landing in its solid fashion. Rollout, then taxi back to the ramp. Joe ran the engine for a short while; it seems to be standard practice to run it at a reasonable speed for a few minutes before shutdown. Eventually he cut the engine and the prop wound down to a stop. Magnetos off, and the whine faded to leave that relative peace and quiet once more.

Here's Joe (standing) and Chip (on the wing) fueling the aircraft after the flight. It drinks a lot of fuel. Don't even ask!

I am very grateful to Joe and Chip for such a fabulous experience. What a way to fly!

More photos from the race, and video from the flight will be forthcoming soon. Watch this space :-)

 

Two Flights

This weekend I was very lucky in the flying department. Two rides on consecutive days!

The story starts with a B-17 visiting Georgetown airport. In particular, 'Aluminum Overcast', the one owned by the EAA, that tours around the country. She was stopping here in Central Texas so I figured that it being Veterans Day, it might be appropriate for me to go and visit. Off I trotted, and there she was, in all her rumbly glory. I got some shots of her on the ramp and on takeoff; all very nice.

Friend Glenn was also at the airport, where he keeps a Cessna 172. He appeared at the terminal and asked if I fancied a jaunt to Kittie Hill airport and back? Well, is the Pope Catholic? Here's a shot of 2DL; seen here at Reklaw last year:

We jumped into his aeroplane and rigged a couple of cameras. Glenn has a GoPro mount on the wing strut, so we plugged my GoPro into that, and I stuck the Contour onto the side window.

We took off and headed out over Georgetown Lake, which like all the lakes in the area, is pretty darned low right now. At least it still appears to have usable boat ramps, unlike Lake Travis. However I don't think you're meant to be able to see all these islands.



We continued on towards Kittie Hill which is not far away. It's a small grass strip just alongside Hwy 183. I attended a fly-in here a couple of years ago which was a lot of fun. Today, we come in low, right above the trees.


Glenn made a nice landing despite the gusty wind and rough runway. The poor grass is a casualty of the brutal hot summer, along with everything else.

We didn't linger at the airfield; just taxied back to the other end of the runway and took off again back to Georgetown. Just a quick half hour flight on a glorious sunny Texas afternoon. We entered the circuit in time to see the B-17 landing in front of us. Nice view :-)

Thank you Glenn, for a very fun outing!



Next day, I headed south to Kingsbury Aerodrome, for their annual Fall Fly-in. This is always a lot of fun; the Pioneer Flight Museum has a bunch of WW1 vintage aircraft and vehicles which are rolled out for the day. There's usually a good number of visitors too, and today was no exception, even if the numbers were kept a little low by a gusty wind, at times across the runway.

I stood with some other photographers and watched aircraft arrive. Soon, Steve brought out his beautiful Ryan PT-22 and took someone up in it. This was built in 1942 and was used as a primary training aircraft for WW2 pilots. It was the first monoplane to be used in this role, after the Stearman biplanes. Steve's example is in the gorgeous polished metal and yellow wings paint scheme, as you can see here from the May fly-in earlier this year:



A short time after Steve landed back in, he appeared in a Model T truck (as you do, especially at Kingsbury) and found me, to ask if I wanted a ride. Do bears live in the woods?! I leapt into that Model T and we headed to his airplane, via my car to pick up those video cameras again. I could hardly let this one go undocumented...

One of the volunteers, Dave, helped to hand-prop the engine so we could get under way. This Ryan has the 160 horsepower 5-cylinder Kinner Radial engine, which was very popular in the 1930s. The same engine powers the Museum's Meyers OTW aircraft. It makes a wonderful tickety-putt noise that modern engines just don't do.

We taxied down to the runway, lined up, and Steve added power for takeoff. The Ryan rolled forward and was soon in the air; the engine singing 'puckety-puckety' as we lifted off. We made a circuit of the airfield and came back in for a low flyby, for the watching crowd. In the shot below, you can see some photographers standing by the windsock; the main fly-in is located further back.



We climbed out of the airfield and headed north. Steve then really surprised me by asking if I'd like to fly it! The day gets better and better :-) So I took the stick and set about enjoying a rare opportunity, to fly a WW2 trainer.

I checked for traffic, and then made some very gentle exploratory turns, right and left. The aircraft seemed nicely responsive and fairly light on the controls. I flew along straight and level for a little bit, and then tried a steeper turn to the right. The aircraft started to teach me about the rudder pedals.




We were flying at about 1000ft and Steve suggested we go a bit higher, so I started a gentle climb and shortly afterwards leveled off at 2000ft. By this time, we had wandered off a fair way from the airfield. I figured we had better go back, but first I had to figure out where it was. Kingsbury is hard to spot from the air, it looks a lot like all the farmland surrounding it, and even a ramp full of visiting aircraft blends in from a distance.

Looking around, I realized the major giveaway of the I-10 interstate was a ways off ahead of me, and there is also a large pig farm close to the airfield. Once I spotted that, all was well, and I could turn towards the airfield.




However my altitude hold was suffering while I was looking around; this is something I really need to work on. We had descended to about 1800ft. I just held it there for a while. The wind was also occupying my attention. It was very gusty and blowy. Sometimes it felt like Steve had pushed the stick; the wind just shoved us around. This taught me more about the rudder pedals! You really do need to use them to hold your nose on course. I guess this makes a good training aircraft; you really have to fly it. I certainly learnt more about the rudder in those 20 minutes than in any other aircraft before this one.

Here's me in front with the dork-cam on my head, and Steve in the back. Camera mounting options are a bit limited in an open-cockpit environment! However, it is a fabulous way to fly. It's so immediate, with the wind rushing past, and the smell of the air.



I made a pass over the airfield, down the length of the runway well above circuit height, back at 2000ft. It was the first time I've done that :-) Making a left turn, I figured that Steve was being very generous but he probably wanted his airplane back, so I suggested he take it again. He did so, and we slotted into the circuit behind a couple of other aircraft. We made a circle behind them to space ourselves out a little more, then Steve brought us in for landing. We taxied back to park next to the other vintage aircraft, me with a big grin on my face :-)



Thank you Steve, for a wonderful experience.



Videos will be forthcoming from both of these flights... it takes me a while to edit them, so watch this space; could be a couple of weeks.