If It Flies-2011/12

80 MODEL AVIATION
HI GANG. I would like to discuss flying
purposefully. Now, some of you might be
thinking, “Oh boy! This guy is going to
lecture us about the value of repeatedly
practicing some flying routine or another.”
As a one-time competitive flier, this is
the sort of thing that I would be inclined to
do, but it is not what I am talking about. I
would like to discuss the many reasons for
flying model airplanes.
When I was a youngster, the allimportant
motivation was to be able to fly
on my own. I was going to be like the big
guys! As a young adult, driving to a
contest at “oh-dark-thirty” on a Saturday
morning, it occurred to me that I was
simply driven by competitive urges. Oh
yes, the Saturday night dinners at most
contests were loads of fun, too. Later on,
my focus was more on tinkering and
seeing what I might learn, as well as
teaching.
These days, I’ve come to realize that
two threads have run through the entire
process. I was always looking to do
something a little bit better than I did
before, and more importantly, that I
enjoyed the company I kept while doing it.
Aeromodeling is a social and a solitary
activity. Your flying buddies are the best
possible audience for any new
accomplishment, and the only question is
what that new accomplishment will be. My
old club mate, Ralph, loved warbirds and
all he wanted to do was to make low, fast
passes.
Does this sound boring and repetitive to
you? It wasn’t for him, and that passion
found ol’ Ralph learning and implementing
skills he probably never intended. He just
wanted to fly cool-looking airplanes fast,
and the process ended up being (dare I use
the word?) educational.
So what would you learn if your whole
“thing” was low, fast passes? For one
thing, you’d want the draggy landing gear
to be tucked away, so you’d have to learn
all the ins and outs of using retractable
landing gear.
Mounting retracts into the airframe
reliably is no small trick. Then there is
getting the landing-gear geometry right. It
is a constant challenge to keep some
warbirds from nosing over, as it is with
many tail-draggers, and a little clever
geometry is needed to make the gear fit
into the wing cleanly, while still
positioning the wheels far enough forward
to prevent the dreaded nose-over. With
fixed gear, it was simple to bend the wire
landing-gear struts forward, but when
Ralph showed up with his first retractequipped
Bearcat, a new learning curve
started.
If you wanted to go fast, then you might
have to learn a thing or two about engines.
(These days it might be electric motors and
their drive systems.) The simple skill of
setting a needle valve would be a good
start. After that you might mess with
propeller selection, and the likely move to
high-rpm operation would almost certainly
mean that you’d have to try different glowplugs
and fuel to see what worked best.
Of course, if you really wanted to go
fast, then tuned pipes and screaming twostroke
.60s would be the ticket. As anyone
who has casually tried to use a tuned pipe
can tell you, it is hardly a plug-and-play
matter. Even those who would buy pretuned
exhaust systems from a
manufacturer would have to learn the basic
skill of setting a needle-valve all over
again.
Need I mention that a warbird lands
slightly faster than most airplanes do, and
could use flaps? You find out about trim
change with flap extension. Oh yes, and as
the high-speed low passes get faster and
faster—with club members cheering on,
usually yelling “Lower! Lower!”—the
monster known as control flutter has to be
wrestled into submission. Flutter can come
from a variety of sources, and that is a
whole other learning curve.
You get the picture, right? The joys of
being a “Sunday Flier,” as coined by the
late Ken Willard of Radio Control
Modeler fame, are built upon a substantial
amount of experience and learned
information. We prefer to learn things the
easy way! The easy way is the one that
involves less rebuilding, and also reduces
Flying purposefully
Dean Pappas | DeanF3AF2B@If It Flies ... pappasfamily.net
the number of times that you have to
trudge out into the woods, swamp, corn, or
soybeans to retrieve the pieces.
Contest fliers encounter this all the
time. Competitive success depends on
what you know—both between the ears
and in your fingertips. These pilots are
examples in extreme of purposeful flying;
their building and/or practice regimens
fairly scream it. Because it’s so obvious, I
don’t think we need to focus on it here—
except to say that this sense of purpose is
not a bad idea for most of us, when taken
in moderation! Purposeful (not obsessive)
flying can be quite useful and fun. That’s
right, fun.
Let’s say a newcomer shows up at the
club field, and based on what he sees and
hopefully a few helpful suggestions, he
buys an ARF and learns to fly with
relatively few hassles. “Where is the
problem in that?” you ask. There is none;
it’s great. It’s what comes next—or maybe
doesn’t—that is important.
After learning and transitioning from a
trainer to a more advanced sport model,
some new fliers seamlessly move on to the
next flying challenge, such as that cool
scale airplane they’ve always liked, or
racing with the local Quickie 500 class. If
the newbie is a glutton for punishment, he
or she takes up Precision Aerobatics or
competition Sailplanes. In all of these
cases, the newfound sense of plan or
purpose is clear, and it’s great stuff.
The flip side of this is that we lose a
fair percentage of the new people at this
stage. It happens this way more often than
you would think. The alternatives listed
above—and many more—will appeal to
some, but for those with a Sunday flier
temperament, sensible goals and
challenges will stave off the dreaded sameold-
thing blues.
Finally, we get to my point in raising
this discussion about flying purposefully. I
think that it is fair to say that we all would
like to fly a little better than we did
yesterday, last week, or last season, and
our flying buddies will be there to let us
know when we’ve succeeded. As I
mentioned, it’s both a solitary and a social
activity.
Airplane trimming, a subject near and
dear to my heart, is sort of a “one size fits
all” challenge. If you are detail-oriented,
then there is always something more to
adjust, optimize, or experiment with. If
you are more laid-back, then all you need
do is spend a little time and attention here
and there to make your airplane easier to
fly.
“Easier to fly” means you look like a
better pilot! There is no pressure to get
anything done, and yet the challenges will
present themselves, until it finally sneaks
up on you—by golly, you’re getting pretty
good at this! You’re not just twiddling the
sticks, but getting the best out of your
airplane and equipment. That’s what this
column has been about all along.
Simply spending time during the first
flight of the day, making a few passes up
and down the field, and making sure that
your airplane is trimmed for straight-andlevel
flight will make all the flights that
follow sharper looking and more fun.
You’d be amazed how many of us are
constantly fighting a slight tendency to
wander off this way or that. Because it
takes extra effort to verify that it’s the
airplane and not you, the trim problem
goes unfixed.
Sometimes all you need is an extra trim
check, while flying in the opposite
direction, to convince yourself that it’s not
the wind, but the airplane itself. Maybe the
airplane doesn’t do the same thing each
time, and eventually you’ll find a worn-out
set of servo gears, or a loose aileron hinge
(they’re always out at the tip!), or a
control linkage that’s about to fail.
Fixing those problems makes an
airplane last longer, and with familiarity,
your flying skills will be further
sharpened. Drag your flying buddies into
the process, and you’ll have more to talk
about than complaining about your day
job or the lawn care. An extra set of eyes
can be helpful when you are trying
something new, whether it’s an
adjustment to the airplane or a new
piloting technique that you are working
on. Your flying buddies will be the first
ones to let you know when you’ve
succeeded in improving something.
When I was just beginning my
competitive aerobatics career, I practiced
nearly every day after work and all
weekend. My longtime retired club mate
and aeromodeling uncle, George D., was
always there. He just loved to watch me
practice slow rolls. Go figure …
But this guy actually got a kick out of
critiquing my rolling maneuvers. When I’d
gotten it right, he’d say, “All that roll
needed was some butter!”
Sure, all of us in the pits got a chuckle
out of it, but it motivated me. I’m sure old
Georgie knew that. Sharing is good; share
your new accomplishments with your
fellow club members.
With that, please let me share something
else with you.
More than four years ago, when “If It
Flies … ” first appeared in these pages, I
announced that Editor Bob Hunt’s and my
intent was to, “ … pull information
together from the great many experts I
have met over the years. These experts
range from Free Flighters, to turbine jet
fliers, to kit designers, and they are all just
plane crazy.”
“If It Flies … ” has consisted almost
entirely of bits and pieces of model
airplane lore I had learned from them, or
of things I was ready to learn because of
what I’d been taught. Aeromodeling has
many specialties and subspecialties, and
they each have something to offer.
Do take the time to poke around the
edges; you never know what will interest
you. Hopefully you’ll enjoy the process as
much as I have enjoyed writing “If It Flies
… ” these past four years. It’s time for me
to wrap it up and say goodbye to the
readership. If this month’s column
sounded a little preachy, now you know
why.
That’s all folks. Have fun, and do take
care of yourselves. MA