Macchi-Castoldi M.C.72
FOR A DOZEN YEARS from Lindbergh's transatlantic flight until World War II was about to begin, the fastest airplanes in the world were seaplanes. Not GeeBee racers, not jazzy little Army Air Corps pursuits, not special experimental craft. But water-borne machines with huge
Gossamer Condor
ON TUESDAY, August 23, 1977, an airplane of quite strange form flew 11/4 miles in just under 71/2 minutes to earn for itself a very special place in aviation history-by flying in the face of common sense. Now there are practical airplanes, and there are impractical airplanes. The Beech Bonanza is a very practical one, and the GeeBee was pretty darned impractical. The Boeing 747 is so practical that it's almost sickening, while the "Gossamer Condor" is probably the most impractical that the mind of man has yet created. Unless you find it practical to win an $87,000 prize for a short local flight.
Turner Racer
ROSCOE TURNER is, without a doubt, the best-known pilot in the history of air racing. He may not have been the best, nor the most innovative, nor even the winningest. But no matter what he did, he made sure that everyone knew about it. And this has paid off with permanent fame. Roscoe was really interested in just the big-time-the Thompson and Bendix Races. They were the super-prestige events of the 1930's, and regularly drew the tops in talent, experience and raw courage. In those races, Turner's record speaks for itself: three firsts and three thirds in the Thompson, a first, a second and a third in the Bendix.
Vickers Vimy
OPEN-COCKPIT biplanes are for fun. Like Pitts Specials for aerobatics, and Wacos and Stearmans for nostalgic short hops from your airport to the next one. But for serious flying from where you are to where you'd rather be, sensible people prefer airplanes with tops to keep out the wind and the rain and the cold. Of course, it hasn't always been that way. Time was, when flying men knew it wasn't safe to sit inside where you were protected from the wind. Because it was the wind that told them when things were going right and when they were going wrong, since instruments were rarely right, and electronic navigation aids hadn't even broken into science fiction.
Tiger Moth
THEY CALLED it a "Tiger Moth," but it wasn't even a biplane. They built it to test a new engine, but it made its name as a speed-record setter. They had a winner on their hands, but the only successful airplane that it inspired was an American racer they may not even have known about. It all began in 1926, when the seemingly limitless supply of World War I surplus airplane engines was beginning to dry up. DeHavilland was doing well with its new "Moth" two-seat personal biplane, but engines were becoming a serious problem. The Air Disposal Co. had been building low-power and quite inexpensive engines from World War I technology and left-over parts, but these had been pretty well used up in the early Cirrus engines.
