Lessons Learned in Vintage Airplanes

Weight a minute

by Dave Clark

“Hi, Dave, let’s go flying in your little airplane!” My effect the little high-winged Chief could muster, we softly friend and fellow pharmacist was asking for the ride I had settled back onto the ever-shortening “taking off place.” promised him, and it was long overdue. As we left my ofAt this point I was committed to fly, and I held it on fice about 4:00 p.m., the sun was bright, the sky cloudthe ground to gain as much groundspeed as I could. At less, and the temperature was in the high 80s. the last second (really) I jerked it, yes, jerked it, over the

Speedway Airport (now closed), on the northwest 5-foot wire fence at the edge of the airfield and a mature side of Indianapolis, had a hard surface runway oriented stand of field corn. I was actually flying, but less than a northeast/southwest, and it was a reasonable length, foot above the tassels on the corn. Now I started to feel nearly 3,000 feet. A beautiful east/ the long-ago learned shudder on the west grass runway bisected the hard controls of an impending stall. I very surface at about midpoint. I rarely slightly released a little back presever used the hard surface, since every Aeronca Chief in the world is “Aren’t we sure, and I could hear the corn tassels playing a tune on my tires. Yikes! meant to use the sod. I was really sweating now, and not

My friend was fairly heavy, and I from the outside air temperature. I asked him his weight. “About 235,” he said under his breath. With full kinda low?” again added very slight back pressure, and we were once more inches fuel that would have put me at about above the corn. I had to repeat this gross weight for the Chief. This was insanity several more times. My sidea longtime friend, and I never really ways-sitting passenger yelled, “Aren’t thought about his actual weight. I came to know him as we kinda low?” Looking straight ahead, I was only able to a friend and never thought about his adipose mass. After shout, “NOT NOW!” He remained quiet. a “follow-me-through” preflight of my little Chief, which When I thought we had gained 2-3 feet of “altitude,” I always did when giving rides, I hand-propped all of I saw another challenge. It was a tree line about a quarter the 65 tired horses, untied the tail wheel, and asked my mile ahead. To our right, there was a low spot between friend to join me in the cockpit. some trees. I was afraid to use any aileron, so I gently

Unheeded Hint No. 1: My friend was large enough to poked at the right rudder enough times to line us up with squeeze in, but only if he sat sideways with his left arm the only hope we had to keep us from becoming a ball behind my back and on the luggage compartment lid. of steel tube, aluminum, and doped fabric. We cleared

Since I almost never used the paved runway, it seemed the low spot with about 3-4 feet to spare and ended our very natural to take off on the shorter sod runway. I made airborne corn picking adventure. I was happy that I had sure I started the takeoff run at the first few feet of the several hundred hours in my Chief and knew her well. runway and ran it up to full power, and then released the She was flying, but she was not happy! It took about brakes. At least I did have a go/no-go spot picked out to 15 minutes or so to climb to about 500 feet. I then made abort the “ride in my little airplane” if needed. the decision to climb to 1,000 feet AGL and burn off

It seemed to take forever to get the tail to come up, some of the fuel to lighten the ship. Then, I thought, with lots of forward pressure needed on the controls. “Why don’t I fly a couple of hours, round trip, into Il At that point I should have been smart enough to think linois, and it might be a little cooler with more dense something was amiss; not so! Doubts finally started to air when we get back to Speedway Airport. Every little flood my mind, but just then, we were slightly airborne bit helps.” When we got near the Danville, Illinois, air before reaching the abort spot. port, my friend asked if we could land and get a sand

“Wow, I’ve got it made!” I breathed a sigh of relief. Not so wich. I didn’t say it, but I thought, real hard, that the last fast, Junior bird man. Even with the small amount of ground thing needed at that moment was the additional weight 38 AUGUST 2012