Step 14.4, First flight

When building an airplane one is cognizant of the fact that from the start, right up until it flies, it's just a pile of aluminum that is worth far less than what you've got into it.  The day that it actually takes flight is when the economic magic unfolds.  Your bottomless money pit with wings suddenly becomes just a very deep hole.  If one ignores the time value of money and figures his own labor at a generous, albeit negative rate (you pay to work), then one might suppose a modest increase in value on the investment.

However, no one with even a passing acquaintance with rational thinking would ever think of a project like this as an investment.  It is a monumental time sink and it is stupidly expensive.  It is also life changing by way of it being an impossibly long project that requires uncommon tenacity to complete.

But it is also a journey that very few will ever experience.  I am grateful that I have been given this opportunity.  Only another builder will ever really appreciate the finer points of the construction process -- the long hours of research, the gauntlet of problem-solving, and the logistical gymnastics required to keep the materials flowing in so that there is never, ever, a single day that progress stops for lack of inventory.   And then there's the solitude. Hundreds and hundreds of hours spent alone in the shop.  If you're the kind of person that favors social interaction, don't build an airplane.  Or, try to find ultra-reliable friends who quite mysteriously, have the same schedule of free time as yourself and who also want to build an airplane.

That is not to say that I built this plane by myself, far from it.  I had plenty of help from my wife Carolina.  She bucked most of the rivets in the wings and it was she that climbed into the tail cone to buck the top skin.  She braved the hazards of Pro Seal fuel tank sealant, one of the most obnoxious substances ever concocted by man.  Carol assembled many of the PC boards for our home built avionics and she did a lot of the plane's wiring.  Carol endured many hardships without (much) complaint, not the least of which was having to listen to me bitch about the wrongheaded way the kit does this, or why that doesn't fit. Never-the-less, whenever I needed some help I could always count on her to come down to the shop. 

Is it worth it?  Time will tell, but even if I never flew it I would still have gained a wealth of technical knowledge related to aviation, metallurgy, mechanical processes, and an advanced degree in profanity.  And above all, I would still have the sublime satisfaction of completion.

It is said that even the longest journey begins with a first step. So here are a couple of pictures from 2012 that remind us where this adventure began: The first kit I received from Van's aircraft as I initially saw it, delivered to my porch.  And a few weeks later, the very first rivet.

Flying day, 4 July 2016 :

In my mind, I had been planning this day for years.  Long before I even started building the airplane. Even before I started building the shop, to build the airplane.  Hardly a day passed without my having imagined how this day would unfold.

Behind computer screens, dozens of white lab-coated technicians with headsets would be controlling the flight while still others with clipboards milled about mission control looking, well, important. You're cleared for takeoff crackles over my headset as I sit alone in my newly minted aircraft, a steely-eyed missile man at heart,  I coolly stare down the runway and slowly advance the throttle...

Well, needless to say, the reality of the first flight was nothing like that.  I arrived at the airport 30 minutes late because my first trip to the airport was sans hangar keys.  Then a quick preflight.  I find that I need to add a quart of oil.  Crap, the oil is still in Carol's car.  She went to let my parents through the airport gate.  Another delay.  I'm feeling rushed at this point.

Airport denizen and fellow EAA member Keith Pederson, has helpfully offered to fly chase during my flight.  We quickly brief the flight and the frequencies that we will use.  The flight plan is simple: Climb above the traffic pattern and then circle the airport (within gliding range) for 30 minutes. Return for a safe landing and celebrate.

Now I'm in the plane and setting the radios.  I go through the startup checklist and turn the key. The engine roars to life and then quickly dies. I recheck the mixture and re-prime. The second attempt same thing, the engine starts and then dies.  OK, here's my first problem and I'm not even off of the ground. Concentrate.  What does the engine need:  Air, fuel, spark.  I know I have air and spark.  It must be fuel. The mixture is full rich so that's OK.  Ah ha! The fuel selector valve is set to off.  I'll need to add that to my checklist.

With the engine started I taxi to the run up area.  Along the way, I test the brakes for the first time. They seem to mostly work, so I continue.  At the run up there are no surprises. Also, there is no discernible drop in RPM during the magneto check.  I saw this before during the previous engine tests (from internet research I know this is common with P-MAGs) so I move on.  The run up is complete, there is nothing left to do but fly.

Flaps 10 degrees.  Trim set for takeoff.  A quick radio call and I am rolling on to the runway.  I slowly advance the throttle and very quickly reach Vr, rotation speed. At this point I am not thinking about the significance of this moment:  I am finally about to achieve the penultimate experience I will ever have in this airplane or perhaps any other, the first lift off in the first plane I've ever built. But there's no time for that.  A little back pressure on the stick and I'm off the ground. 4 years, six months, and 3 days after setting the first rivet, I have an airplane -- that flies!

I make a shallow climb to the planned altitude of 5000' where Keith joins me and I begin a series of orbits about the field.  Keith maneuvers his plane above, below, and on either side of me as the flight unfolds.  Principally, the chase plane is there looking for anything coming loose. Keith reports that nothing is departing the aircraft or flapping in the breeze. Good to continue.  I am attempting to get the aircraft trimmed for level flight but, I find that it is a bit sensitive in pitch and I am having some difficulty finding the right pitch trim setting.

For the remainder of the flight, I am periodically reporting engine temperatures that are being recorded by another EAA member, Jim Braddock on the ground. And Keith was still there following behind and reminding me to fly the plane when my altitude deviated too far.  I found that it was a challenge to maintain the desired altitude and play with my Garmin avionics at the same time.  This is why I need to get the pitch trim figured out.

After about 25 minutes of circling it is apparent that the engine would continue to run without overheating and the first flight data had been collected. All of the goals for this flight had been met, save one: land safely.  Engine power is reduced and we descend back down to traffic pattern altitude. Flying left downwind for runway 25 the aircraft is slowed to 90kts.  Just before I am ready to turn on to the base leg of the pattern I find that my flaps will not deploy.  This is really no big deal, as I have made many no flap landings in other aircraft.  The trouble was actually on the ground.  Without thinking, I mentioned this to Keith on the radio and this was, of course, overheard by Carol on the ground.  Well, I found out later that this may have been somewhat concerning for her and my parents. In the meantime, I got the flaps working again and I continued my base leg descent.  The cool morning air was calm and the final approach was very smooth, without the breezes and mild turbulence that will buffet landing aircraft later in the day.

At 76 kts I was carrying a little more speed than I would have liked as I crossed the approach end of the runway. This is about 10kts faster than I was going for, but I did not float much in ground effect and was on the ground in the first thousand feet of runway.  It was a pretty good landing.

And so there it is, the much-heralded 'RV grin.'  I don't think it would be possible not to grin after flying this magnificent machine.  Like a master chef, Mr. Richard VanGrunsven who is the aircraft's designer has managed to combine the best aircraft ingredients in just the right proportions to make a near perfect flying experience.

So many thanks to all that helped along the way. Keith for his advice and flying chase today. Especially to my wife Carolina, who helped at every stage of the build.

And to other RV builders:  Keep pounding those rivets!  Some dreams do come true.

Step 14.3, Transition training

The purpose of transition training is to become familiar with the flying qualities of your aircraft before you actually attempt to fly your own plane for the first time.  The FAA allows a waiver to the rule against using an experimental airplane for commercial purposes in this case, so that builders can gain experience in the same type of aircraft that they have constructed while under the supervision of a Certified flight Instructor.  Prudence and your insurance company dictate that one under go the training,  especially for someone with relatively few flight hours such as myself.

I began looking for suitable training a few months ago. Since my airplane is an RV-7A I was looking for the same.  I also have a constant speed propeller and so my training needed to include that as well. I wanted to schedule the training to conclude as near as possible to the completion of my aircraft so the training would be fresh in my mind.  I was fortunate to locate Mr. Chris Droege of Nampa, Idaho whose qualification and aircraft seemed to be a perfect fit. And the location was ideal as I have a sister in nearby Eagle, a suburb of Boise.  The drive from Rough and Ready California to Nampa is a bit of a grind at 8 or 9 hours of mostly desert.  Even worse, half of that is two lane highway with all the drama that entails.

As it turns out, my first two attempts to get to Nampa failed.  The first, stymied by high winds in Idaho and then by my poorly timed case of the flu.  Chris was understanding and cheerfully rescheduled -- both times.

The third time is the charm, as they say, and since the training would occur much later than originally scheduled it has worked out even better for me since my airplane has only just been completed.

Chris Droege's RV-7A

Day 1:

Chris likes to start early and still being on Pacific time didn't help.  Never-the-less, I managed to arrive at his hangar at 7:30 am, MDT.  The hangar was quite large, spotless, well organised and finished. By finished I mean epoxy floors and painted walls and ceiling.  One corner was devoted to a small apartment and in the center of this impressive space sat two aircraft.  A Glassair Sportsman and the RV-7A.

After a few minutes of pleasantries and a look around the hangar we settled down to business. First off, there was a look at my log book, my pilot license and my current medical certificate. Then there were was a waiver to sign.  Chris has a easy going style and a colorful vernacular. He often referred to me as "dude" which I found amusing and it fits his laid back demeanor.

Normally the ground school portion would go on for a couple of hours, but since high winds were forecast for the next day we decided to keep it short on this first day.  The first hour of ground covered the basics of getting into the air:  Getting into and out of the aircraft, taxiing the castering nose wheeled 7A, engine start, and finally, the takeoff roll in detail.

I really liked Chris' teaching style.  He first tells you what he is going to do.  Then he shows it to you slowly as he does it.  He will then ask you to repeat what you just saw and heard.  Good so far.  Here is the key thing -- He tells you that he understands that you will forget what you just did and that's OK, because he is going to repeat it a million times.  And so he did, at least with me, without the slightest bit of frustration being apparent.

The flying on day 1 was focused on getting familiar with the RV-7A.  There was an emphasis on the characteristics of a short winged aircraft, particularly in turns.  We did a lot of exercises that stress the fundamentals -- turns around a point and S-turns across a road.  And, of course, what check out would be complete without slow flight and stalls.

In all I had about 3 hours in the air on day one, but it went by fast because I was having such a good time.

Day 2:
The foretasted wind arrived right on schedule, so on day two we met for only an hour or so while we finished up the ground school and we put off the flying until day three.  This section focused a lot on how to organize your aircraft records and Chris showed examples from his RV that illustrate his point: That good records will increase the value of your aircraft.  I never really thought much about this aspect of aircraft ownership while I was building, and being a first time aircraft owner, I simply didn't know what I didn't know.  I appreciated the information and the application of that information. Another requirement of building an airplane is the production of the Pilot Operating Handbook or aircraft manual.  Since the aircraft builder is considered to be its manufacturer as well, it is his responsibility to produce the aircraft's POH.  Chris used his POH as an example of what data must be collected and recorded during the aircraft's test phase and how the proper presentation can become a resource for the pilot and any future owner of the aircraft.

Ground school, Chris on left.

Day 3:
Fortunately the windy conditions subsided and day three began still and warm.  Day 3 would be all about landings.  We departed Nampa Id, for nearby Ontario Or.  The airport at Ontario would be a little less busy.  Along the way we practiced power changes for ascents and descents. The point being to arrive at the desired altitude and simultaneously with the desired airspeed.  After that, it was just one landing after another.  I could see incremental improvement as I improved my ability to begin each landing with a stabilized approach.  It is Chris's habit to debrief each landing as soon as we are off  the runway.  Stopped on the taxiway, Chris offers a constructive critique of the landing while the details are fresh in your mind  Since this occurs while stopped it is possible to fully concentrate on the advice being given. I liked this approach, but it does take more time, so fewer landings will be possible.

As the number of landings increased, I could feel the proper sight picture of the approaching runway getting locked in.  My muscle memory is progressively tuned and Chris is getting happier and happier with the results.  After about ten landings or so, Chris decided I was ready. I would have liked to continue all day, but realistically, Chris's job isn't to make me the best RV-7A pilot ever, it is simply to make me safe enough to fly my own aircraft.  I can build my expertise in my own plane, but if I should I need a tuneup in the future, I wouldn't hesitate to fly to Nampa to get some more excellent instruction from Chris.

Taxiing at Nampa

So in the end, I'm returning home with the certain knowledge that I will be able to safely fly my new airplane.  That is why I went to Idaho, and that is exactly what happened.  Well done Chris!