Adrenaline, in large doses, has a truly unsettling effect on
the belly. Getting jumped by a
tiger just before dinner, even if you escape, is likely to give you the
flutters for a few hours. Turns
out my latest flight was not unlike getting jumped by a tiger and
escaping. My tummy is better this
morning, but for hours yesterday it was unsettled and Sharalyn reports that I
emitted occasional quiet ‘woohoos’ until long after bedtime. In my quest to fly 100 types of
aircraft I have hit #22, the Pitts S12, a 410 HP radial engined, fully
acrobatic biplane with tandem seating and more shear flying fun than I imagined
was aerodynamically possible. My
chance to fly the plane came courtesy of my friend George, a man with nerves of
steel who allowed me to get a landing in his 180 last year. I am surrounded on these islands by
pilots who are more skilled than I am, but there are not many who just plain
like it as much as I do. I am not
sure what units I would use to measure a love of getting off the ground, but George
is one of the few who may actually push that needle further than I do.
As I returned to Friday Harbor from a flight to Paine Field
with Sharalyn and the kids, George asked for a radio check from somewhere. He was coming in loud and clear, and as
I drifted down final in my 172 I wondered whether he was calling from his new
airplane. As I pulled off onto the
taxiway the answer was clear, a little yellow biplane was steaming towards me,
s-turning and belching smoke. I
cheekily asked whether I could get a ride with him the next day and was happy
to get an affirmative reply. This
Pitts S12 is a gorgeous yellow plane with bright red and blue accents. The 410HP engine spins a gigantic prop
that darn near precludes wheel landings.
I texted him in the morning and offered my services as ballast and, just
as I settled in for quality time with my 1 year old, he texted back that he had
the time and inclination. I
quickly dumped the boy off with his mother and sped to the airport. I surfed the web looking at the specs
of the S12 while I waited for George to arrive. I was only a little intimidated that the Pitts community
(and perhaps the FAA) calls the darn thing the ‘Macho Stinker’. With more than 50 of them built it is
not super rare, but it is a niche airplane with a very small community of
pilots good enough to fly it well and safely.
George rolled up with guests in tow and I was a little more
worried when they told me he refers to the front seat as ‘where the victim
sits’. Glad I skipped lunch. I strapped on an incredibly comfortable
seat-parachute and after the plane was towed out I got in the front seat. Like the cub, the person in charge gets
to ride in back. There are
abbreviated flight instruments up front, including a fuel computer, and airspeed
indicator, there are three turn coordinators, one inverted and two right side
up. George took care of the rather extensive prep to make sure the radial
engine did not have an oil lock, and I slipped into a seatbelt that required an
advanced degree. In addition to
the usual 5-point system there was a redundant lap belt and a ratchet that snugged
me remarkably firmly into the seat.
My legs are a little too long for the foot pedals but overall the office
was tight without being uncomfortable.
There was no sense of claustrophobia because the huge bubble canopy gives
all the benefit of an open cockpit without the oil in the hair and the bugs in
the teeth.
George fired it up and we trundled down the taxiway. They are moving the taxiway centerline
at KFHR and this involves laying some new asphalt, but also narrowing the
taxiway. Not a great thing for
taildraggers needing to S-turn, but the FAA is concerned about other matters. George and I sorted out that he would
be doing the flying and that I was willing to do anything. Take off involves a great deal of
noise, but surprisingly little right rudder, and we were about 40 feet off the
ground doing 120 knots with about 1600 feet of runway behind us. Just as I registered these little
factoids George put our plan into action.
‘Our plan’ involved doing some rolls on runway heading at 3500
feet. There are probably a lot of
ways to get into position, but I will admit that I was extremely impressed with
the Stinker’s style. Three very
steep hard banks and a deck angle reminiscent of an Atlas rocket put us over
the numbers and at 3500 feet within 60 seconds. I realized that this was going to be a really fun
flight.
George is very good at aerobatics…good enough to wring out
an Extra 300 and this Pitts and smart and modest enough to admit that the
airplane can do a hell of a lot more than he can. I am no good at aerobatics at all. It is not for lack of
interest, but rather for lack of an appropriate airplane. This is a very appropriate
airplane. We started with
rolls. One right, one left, two
right. George checked in. I was having so much fun I almost could
not find the mic button. A
loop. Well, I have done loops. I
have even flown the airplane through loops. The routine is to point down until you have enough speed to
carry you over the top then pull smoothly so as not to bleed off too much
airspeed with drag. This is not
the way of the Stinker. Apparently
in this plane you yank back on the stick like you are setting the hook in a
marlin and hold the Gs until you are well over the top. I grew jowls. Even with a big smile I
could feel my cheeks hovering around my collar. It was amazing.
Then loop to a Cuban and Cuban to a loop. A hammerhead. A humpty. A barrel roll. When I clearly doubted that George had
done a barrel roll we did another.
Another Cuban and another barrel roll and then George made a huge
mistake.
Aerobatics pilots develop a strong stomach. Literally strong because tensing up as
you experience the Gs is a good way to keep from spewing your preflight meal
all over the airplane. A real key
to the strong stomach is to have a sense of what is coming. Hard to maintain that well honed sense
when you give the controls to a happy chimp. George invited me to try some rolls. I rolled right. Over shot and snatched
it roughly back while also pointing the nose well off course. Ahhh, this was going to be a
humiliating plane to fly. Every
little motion of my hand was translated instantly into movement of the
airplane, no matter how aerodynamically unsound or unwanted. I tried a slower
roll to the left. Mistake. Nose dropped because I was rolling
slow. Pull up on stick to fix nose.
Does not work when the airplane is flying on its side. Realize this and correct. Then guess wrong about which way to
push the stick to correct. Then,
before much else could go wrong we were through the roll. Without waiting for critique I took
another bash. Maybe worse. George explained that I should try to
do it faster. I am sure he also
meant cleaner and with fewer wobbles, but he did not say that and I could not
have managed it. One fast right
was OK. One fast left was marred by what must have been a wrist spasm that gave
the plane a brief epileptic seizure.
Another was adequate but with a lot of overshoot. Then George had had enough. I am pretty sure his tummy was not
loving what I was doing because it was so darn surprising.
We headed back and I got to enjoy a few minutes of just
straight and level flight in this awesome airplane. With the wonderful view and the comfy seats you could
certainly see ferrying it from air show to air show, but the beautifully
harmonized controls are so sensitive that it would be a nice days flight make
it 400 miles. Having watched the
plane land from the safety of the ground I knew what was coming and in person
it is far less intimidating than it looks. The big difference between the Extra and Edge and their ilk
and the acrobatic biplanes is drag.
Without that huge prop spinning fast the Stinker drops out of the
sky. Base was at about 150 feet
and 400 feet from the numbers.
We turned final and as we dropped through that 150 feet the airspeed
indicator dropped from 120 to 80 in about 5 seconds. At 80 the nose reared up and the tailwheel dropped on for a lovely
three point landing. If I had to
guess I would have said between 30 and 45 minutes of airtime. The GPS said 12 minutes. Wow. Not a plane for everyone, but I’ll
go up every time George needs to test his stomach muscles and his adrenal
gland.
