If It Flies — 2011/12
Flying purposefully
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 all-important 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, 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 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.
- Getting the landing-gear geometry right is a constant challenge. It takes clever geometry to fit the gear 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 retract-equipped Bearcat, a new learning curve started.
- If you wanted to go fast, 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 trying different glowplugs and fuel to see what worked best.
- If you really wanted to go fast, tuned pipes and screaming two-stroke .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 buy pre-tuned exhaust systems from a manufacturer still have to learn the basic skill of setting a needle valve.
- Warbirds tend to land slightly faster than most airplanes and could use flaps. You find out about trim change with flap extension.
- 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 must 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 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 same-old-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 to 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-and-level 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, 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.
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.
DP
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
