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.