Tales from the Log of the Ruptured Duck

[Kayak Jack]

55 AT 55

Julie and I belong to Chapter# 55 of the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA). There are over a thousand chapters around the world, numbered sequentially. Fifty five years ago, some forward looking people around the Mason MI area joined up and formed this chapter. About three years ago, I joined.

The Ruptured Duck is the least experimental aircraft in the world, so it took me a year before I joined. When I finally did come on board, it was for the people - not the planes. Yesterday was a proof in the pudding day. Those people shined like diamonds.

When we, on the board of directors, started to discuss celebrating our 55th anniversary as a chapter (deemed important because we are chapter 55), we all agreed that we should do something. Then - there was a lot of silence. So, I spoke up and said that I'd handle it. I set up two celebrations. The first would be a sit down dinner at a nice restaurant. That's easy. Select a date, collect names, call in reservations. Piece of cake. We had that part of the celebration a couple of months ago.

The second part was almost as easy. It was an out doors celebration. Actually, it was in our hangar. I had suggested, and the board supported, having a pig roast and a picnic. A good friend of mine does pig roasts, and had the winning bid. We also had a potluck along with it. A hundred people showed up. Little kids squealed and giggled on trikes and bikes. Older folks talked hangar flying, Everybody ate their fill.

Later, some of us gave airplane rides to friends and relatives. I took up two of Julie's granddaughters, Mia is 13, and Katie is 21. I took each of them out to see the countryside W'ly of the field. Then, as evening was coming on, visibility was closing in and we shut down flight operations.

It was time to put away the Duck and go have ice cream. Reluctantly, I let them drag me - kicking and screaming - to the ice cream parlor. :wink:

 

[Kayak Jack]

WHOOPS!

Yesterday morning, we flew NW'ly about 45 miles from Mason, to Lowell MI. Nice, sunny day, but a bit hazy at 3,000'.

Runway there is about 2'700', and only 48' wide. This gives an impression that it's longer than it really is. Additionally, because some (kind of unintelligent) people built houses right on the SE'ly end of the runway, there is a displaced threshold when landing to the NW. That means you aren't supposed to touch down right on the end of the runway, but a ways further down. Effectively, that shortens the runway by another 500'.

When we came in, we were hot and long. When there was only 1,200-1,300 feet left, we were still 20' in the air, and runway was going by us at about 70mph. Firewall the throttle, remove carb heat, carefully raise flaps 10 degrees at a time, clean this thing up out of landing configuration and get it up. Cheated death again.

Uneventful go around and depart for the next stop - Charlotte. Pay a bill here for recent repair of the door latch ($453 AARRGGHH!!), and go to lunch at "The Gavel". Charlotte is a county seat, and this restaurant names some of its specialties after legal proceedings.

Upon return to Mason, we ran across Dan, one of our friends. He joined us for coffee, tales of high school days, and engine oil. Another good day.

 

[Kayak Jack]

KTEW, KRNP, KOZW, KTEW

Yesterday, Julie and I got up a bit early and headed to the field. Clear And Visibiliy Unlimited (CAVU) all over the place. Weather was cool and in the mid sixties. Perfect!

We flew to Owosso KRNP just to land, taxi back, and take off again. A buzzard ducked down out of harm's way as we lifted off. We turned left and up away from it. On the way from Owosso to Howell KOZW, we overfly Maple Grove 65G where they do sky jumping. They were scheduled to jump today, but not at the time when we overflew - clear.

Winds at Howell (where I first started learning to fly) were exactly 90 degrees to the runway, so which end to use as active was a toss-up. Other pilots had already chosen runway 31 as active, so we did too. See, it's considered as bad form to land head on into other traffic. ;-)

Another aircraft was in the pattern right behind us. We exited the runway, taxied up to the terminal, and greeted the airport manager as he walked out with chocks. Mark is a nice guy. A latge (about 12 passenger) jet sat on the apron, and Ditch Witch (a trencher machine company) corporate-type people were herding up and boarding.

I owed their coffee fund a buck from a previous visit, so took care of that debt. Coffee here is some of the best for airport coffee. The brand new terminal building is very nice. An aerial survey aircraft had taxied up and shut down while I was getting coffee. As we talked with the young men, they told us of assignments to photograph road construction projects both in the planning and in execution, nature ateas, etc. Interesting.

OK, already to go. Some vertical clouds are building, and it may be bumpy on the way home. Winds moved, and the active runway has reversed. We take off to the SE'ly direction, circle around to our right, and headed home. The air was smoother than I had a right to expect. I plopped the Duck onto the deck and we had cheated death some more. Now, lunch at Bestsellers.

 

[Kayak Jack]

GREENVILLE, PEOPLE, AND COFFEE

One of the nicest things about aviation, is the people you get to meet. Today, Julie and I had one of those privileges. We'd flown into Greenville City Airport, 6D6, a few miles E'ly of Gerald Ford Airport, which is in Grand Rapids MI. Greenville is a nice, clean little town with a nice field.

Yesterday, when I checked weather, we had a nice, 6 hour window this morning. So, I started planning a sortie for us. It's been about three years or so since I'd landed at Greenville, and it's about time to revisit. I helped Julie draw course lines on our VFR (Visual Flight Rules) charts, select prominent landmarks that she could identify from the air, and got a formal weather briefing. Winds are from the west at about 10-15 knots. Everything else was good too. Off we went.

The air was nice and smooth. It was hazy at 3,000', about 2,000' above ground level. Though there was over 10 miles of visibility on the ground, we had only about 4-7 miles in the air. Flight following (air traffic controllers and radar watching over us as their duties allow) advised of traffic in our 11:00 o'clock. They vectored the other bird away from us; we never did see it.

We entered a left downwind leg for runway 28 on a 45 degree angle, turned to base leg, and turned final. With winds pretty much straight down the runway, I landed at about 45mph and turned off the active early. As we walked into the terminal, signed the pilots' log, powdered our noses, and got a cuppa coffee, we met a table full of folks. Two men, a woman, teen age boy, and 10 year old young lady. After a couple minutes of light conversation, the group split by gender.

Come to find out, the young fellow (appeared to be no more than 18 or 19) is already a licensed A&P mechanic, and is on his way to Chicago to work on rare aircraft! Interesting! We talked a bit, and I wanted to get airborne and on the way home before the sun heated up the air too much and it got turbulent.

Julie and the ladies emerged from a pilots' lounge. Here's one of the surprises - the other lady's name was also Julie Bauer! Not your normal circumstance, ehh?! They'll remember each other, and we'll drop in for a visit again.

The trip home was a bit bumpy, but not bad. An autopilot would have been nice here. Favorable winds let me do another easy and slow, landing. We put the Duck to bed, washed off the bugs, and drove to town for lunch. As we sat down, an old friend walked in and we invited him to join us. A couple of hours later, and it's time to go home. The Ruptured Duck had been a perfect lady today, and we enjoyed her company. She's a good friend.

 

[Kayak Jack]

Dabbling Her Toes In The Water

Today, the Ruptured Duck was part of a whole, new venture. Julie started ground school with Steve, who was my instructor. She's getting familiar with flying, ostensibly to be able to land if I'm incapacitated. I'm hoping that she learns a lot, maybe goes on to get her license, and fly right alongside me. But, however far she goes with her quest, she has started. And, that's important.

In the meantime, she will be learning much more about how to be an active aircrew member. There are lots of things that she can do that will help in the cockpit. Watch for other aircraft out there, navigate, hold heading and altitude while I do other duties, spot landing fields, watch for large birds (buzzards, hawks, cranes, crows, geese, etc.), load and unload gear, etc. All the while she's doing these things, she's learning.

As we senior citizen types (the clinical term is Geezers) age, we continue to make lots of choices. We can gentrify in the rocking chair and fishing pole, or we can do other activities. Some of the relaxing things like rocking chair and fishing pole are important - once in a while. A mix of active stuff and relaxing stuff is good. An imbalance may not be as beneficial for us. We are using bicycles and the Duck as active pastimes. Napping and lounging are good for the relaxing parts of our week.

All in all, I'm quite glad that Julie is starting on this quest. Only she can decide where - and how far - she wants to go with it. The Duck and I will support her along her journey.

 

[Wannabe]

Well, good for her. It is always exiting to start a new Great Adventure.
Bob

 

[Kayak Jack]

Slow Flight & Maintaining Heading

Julie has two flight lessons under her belt now. Steve has her turning to, and maintaining, cardinal direction headings. A week ago, she didn't even know that East was 090 degrees on the compass rose. Or, for that matter, WTH a compass rose is!

Slow flight, near the bottom of the speed range where the plane can still hold altitude, is not a comfortable place to fly. Darned plane feels like it wants to roll over and play dead. She has to grab ahold of her mind, keep telling herself that this can be done, and then do it. It's an anxiety producing exercise.

She's getting acquainted with a different type of lady than she has ever met before. The Duck is too. They both are doing well.

 

[DCRICE]

Jack, show her Bonny's web sites. Lady pilots get along well together. She could fly some whale shark or turtle tagging missions.
http://blog.al.com/live/2012/03/bonny_s ... s_jou.html

http://www.onwingsofcare.org/

Dan

 

[Kayak Jack]

The Charlie Reunion Factor

Maybe 20 years ago, I met Charlie Parmelee. He was leading canoe trips for a paddling club based in Lansing MI. He's as easy going a fellow as ever come down the pike. He's also a world class paddler who's paddled over 50 miles a day, and all the way across the state of Michigan several times (that's UPstream half of the way), and pedaled the Dalmac Bicycle run (about 450 miles) every Labor Day weekend from Lansing to the straits of Mackinaw for about 20 years.

Work and family have proccupied him for a few years, and we got out of contact for a while. Today, we reunited, had a hearty breakfast, and flew to Hell. It was Charlie who first showed me the canoe route to Hell and back. He was able to name each of the lakes through which our route traversed. And, stories of different trips with groups of paddlers.

Sunlight shown off of algae beds around edges of lakes, wavy wakes behind fishing boats, and sandy beaches. This is the territory of the Pinkney Recreational Area. Lots of boating and biking going on down there, a quarter of a mile below us.

Before we flew, while I was doing the preflight walk-around inspection, Tom Botsford strolled into the hangar. Tom is an 80 year old that you'd swear was 60. After introductions, I continued the preflight. Tom and Charlie started talking, found out that the plane Tom flies (a 1946 Cessna 140) is the same model Charlie used to own. AND, Tom's home in northern Michigan is kitty corner across the road from Charlie's Grandpa and Grandma's farm. Such is the world of aviation, rife with connections back and forth. And, this all helped set the stage for ourr reunion. It all felt really good.

After flying to Hell, we returned to the Mason area, and circled Charlie's house. Then a routine landing, and we congratulated ourselves on hacing cheated Death again. Now - off to the Bestsellers Coffee Shop.

 

[FlaMike]

Sounds like a really great bunch of folks!

Mike S.
Spring Hill, FL

 

[Kayak Jack]

Mikey, they're some of the best. Seldom as good looking as, say, Piper San - but nice, nonetheless.

 

[Kayak Jack]

Angle Of Attack (AOA)

Other pilots have known this from about a day or two after their first flight lesson: "Few things in aviation are as critical as your angle of attack." In fact, a famous book entitled "Stick And Rudder", presented to me by none other than our beloved Piper San, clearly states a truism. Almost every time you are in trouble when flying, you can get out by easing the stick a little bit forward.

To oversimplify a bit, AOA is the angle between the chord line of the wing (roughly, a line drawn through a wing, from the leading to trailing edge), and the relative wind. Relative wind is what the plane "feels" as it passes through the air. If you hold your hand out with fingers extended, and laying right next to each other, pretend it is a wing. Dip your fingers straight down into a flowing stream so water flows into the edge of your finger, flows along them, and then leaves it. Position your hand so it is as streamlined as you can get it.

Now, rotate your wrist about 5 degrees. You now have a 5 degree AOA. Water should flow nicely along both sides of your hand. Rotate your hand another 30-40 degrees. Now, water no longer flows smoothly along the downstream side of your hand; it burbles and runs in curly cue eddies. That's what air does on top of a wing that was forced into too steep of an angle of attack. It will no longer create lift; the wing has stalled. It still moves through the air, but not effectively.

On the bottom of the Duck's left wing is a probe that sticks down about 3". It senses AOA. It is adjustable to fit any, particular aircraft's wing configuration. Mine was really close, but not quite on the mark. This morning, before Greg Shannon got to the hangar, I adjusted it to where I hoped was it's final resting place. When we took off, I flew to a practice area, did a clearing turn to make sure other aircraft weren't nearby, and went into slow flight regime. Notch by notch, I extended the flaps. Forty degrees, nose up, 60mph, 50mph, no stall yet. Finally at about 45mph the stall warning horn started blaring, and then the nose slowly fell. The Duck was trying to self correct for what she considered as a foolish thing to be doing to her.

One glance at the AOA gauge told me that I had over adjusted. FINALLY! This was the first time I'd been able to get it to indicate in the red before it was supposed to! Later, I backed it off one RCH, and will test it again.

Greg and I continued on to Howell OZW for a cup of their world famous coffee. When we got back to Mason, he had to leave to pick up a pretty brunette, and I went to lunch. We'd already cheated death a couple of times.

 

[Kayak Jack]

Blakesburg IA - Antique Aircraft Association

Over the Labor Day weekend, Julie and I camped next to the sod runway at Antique Airfield. It's located about 8 miles E'ly of Blakesburg on Bluegrass Road. Another 8 miles E'ly of the field is Ottumwa IA. For fans of M*A*S*H, that's where Radar is from.

My Cessna 172D is almost 52 years old, and doesn't quaalify as antique. It is Vintage only. Many of these aircraft are 60-80 years old. After a few years of work and enough money to buy a new jet aircraft, these old birds rise again into the sky. Old, open cockpit, bi-wingers with growling, round engines roared around. Some of them had apparatus for shooting smoke, and laid down columnar streams as they sped by.

A friend flew his Ryan in from Washington state. Ryan is the company that built the Spirit of Saint Louis for Lucky Lindy. Russ' bird is polished, unpainted aluminum, a slick mirror.

A young lady named Lucy, and her friend Allan, flew in a '46 Aeronca Champ from Virginia. It's a 700 mile journey. I met an Aussie there too, but I'm guessing that he may have come in on a 747.

Friday morning, as the sun was just starting to show above the horizon, a long stream of Luscombs roared past our tent and woke us up. Aircraft after aircraft lifted off heading south. We were on the western edge of the runway, so watched as the rising sun was being punctuated by planes over 65 years old. Later, Howards were flying; they're over 80 years old.

Rain was a companion this weekend. The sod runway was so soft that they closed it often. A couple of Beech 18s, with twin engines, flew around, buzzed the field, but were unable to land in the soft stuff. These are very similar to the bird Earhart disappeared in. Had they landed, they would not have been able to takeoff in the mud. Front tires of our bikes would mire in, and the rear wheel would spin.

We made friends with folks from all over. Lots of really nice people. Lots of good chow. Beautiful planes.

We shall return.

 

[Wannabe]

You lucky Devil. To be able to be around that many old planes must have been a joy. New airplanes cannot hold a candle to the old airplanes. The new ones may be more sophisticated and advanced than the old ones, but the old ones did it first. As far as I know (which just ain't too far) there is no modern equivalent to a J3, Champ, or a Taylorcraft.
Bob

 

[Kayak Jack]

They are simply magnificent, Bob. And so are the folks who fly them.

 

[Kayak Jack]

If you go to antiqueairfield.com, and play the"Rollcall" video, you'll be able to see most of these aircraft. At the 5:31 mark, Julie and I are looking at an Ercoupe, with our bikes in the background.

 

[Wannabe]

That was neat Jack. Thanks for the link.
Bob

 

[Kayak Jack]

Lots of fun, Bob. Most of the nuts on here - would fit well with the nuts there. :wink:

 

[Kayak Jack]

LAND OF 11,000 LAKES

Some other state is proud of its lakes, and boasts 10,000 of them. Michigan stopped counting at 11,000. And then we start counting rivers, streams, ponds, etc. Its the Water Wonderland.

This afternoon, Julie and I flew from Mason towards Tecumseh, then SW'ly to Hillsdale. We were over or adjacent to lakes most of the way. I've written about this route before, and it remains a magnificent trip.

Fields, lakes, rivers, small towns, interstate freeways, and all roll along 2,000' below us. A few, puffy clouds are 1,000' above. It's a scenery sandwich - and we're in the middle. Forests, tractors, other aircraft, and a stray train mix themselves into the milieu. Visibility was 20-25 miles. WOW!

When we landed at Hillsdale KJYM, we were greeted by a fellow atop a John Deere tractor with three six foot mowers attached. In conversation, he talked about being in 4H with his sons, training them in the shooting program, and hunting with them. Later, he showed us his .50 caliber revolver. Helluva gun!

Later, we took off and headed N'ly back home. I had to bend my line of flight about 6 miles to the left to avoid treading on Class D airspace of Jackson KJXN. Darned west wind kept drifting us E'ly, and I had to crab along for what seemed like 25 miles. Pretty quick, we got home; we'd cheated death again. Put away the Duck and clean off the bugs. Time for a good supper at the Baja Grille

 

[Wannabe]

Jack,
Thought of you this morning. As I pulled up to the 4way stop leaving town this morning I looked up and a Cessna 140 was in his turn onto final at our County Airport. I sat at the stop sign until I couldn't see it any more then went on my way. Had 3 or 4 cars stacked up behind me but that didn't bother me. If they knew me they would understand that sometimes I can do things outside the norm.
Bob