Saturday, July 28, 2018

Life with a Luscombe: Back to Biloxi

Continuation from "Return to Clemson"

As usual, the Luscombe took its sweet time crawling up to altitude. The air was quite turbulent for an airplane of such small size and I was getting tossed around inside the cockpit. Hoping for a smoother ride, I continued the climb to 6,500 ft. On days that experience convective heating, the rising columns of air which build cumulus clouds typically yield to smooth air around 4,000 or 5,000 ft. But today, it was rough the whole way up. Upon reaching 6,500, I finally resigned myself to the bumpiness. At the very least, the air was cooler up there.

For once, I was not enjoying the ride. The turbulence had me constantly working to keep the little airplane coordinated and level. All the while theLuscombe eagerly threw away airspeed and altitude but always took a painfully long time to gain it back. By the time I had made it to the southern edge of the Atlanta Class Bravo airspace, I was drained.
Pleasantly Cool - Miserably Bumpy
Thankfully, I had noted my takeoff time—a very useful step that I occasionally forget—and was keeping an eye on the ETA for my next fuel stop at Tuskegee, where I had also stopped on my way up. After I cleared the Bravo and turned to go direct to Tuskegee, the full strength of the atmosphere’s river of air took effect. The ground speed ticked down and the ETA ticked up; it was clear that I wasn’t going to make it.

There I was, stuck in strong winds, getting bounced around in turbulence, and being forced to find an alternate fuel stop. Pine Mountain, on the Georgia side of the Alabama border, was just inside the edge of my comfort range for fuel so I prepared for an early stop.

The headwind picked up once again and I considered a diversion for my diversion, into Roosevelt Memorial just visible off my right wing. Thankfully, I could just make it into Pine Mountain and I passed Roosevelt after a bit of hesitancy.

Pine Mountain was surprisingly busy but I joined a left base for the westward runway and made my approach. A 10 knot direct crosswind was billowing over the trees down onto the runway. At about 200 ft, the approach got interesting as I wrestled the little Luscombe down. An attempted wheel landing turned into a three-pointer and the noises coming from the fuselage and tailwheel weren’t pretty.

I was glad to be on the ground and shut down third in line for the pumps. Heading inside, I took a breath of the A/C and got some water. After taking a seat, an older gentleman complimented me, “That looked like a pretty good landing.” I thanked him but responded honestly that the landing didn’t feel so great. He shared a few words of encouragement and then I went on my way to refuel and get back on the airways.

Climbing out of Pine Mountain, I was intent on finding smooth air. At about 1000 ft, the right wing lifted rapidly in a thermal. My glider skills kicked in and I quickly banked the little Luscombe into a tight right turn. After I centered the thermal, the VSI showed over a 1,000 ft/min climb! Not bad for a little taildragger that thinks it’s a glider!
The Top of the "Thermal Perch"
The thermal helped me all the way to 8,000 ft before it gave way and the air was as calm, cool, and collected as a cucumber. Wispy little clouds passed under the wing as I droned south over now familiar towns—Tuskegee, Auburn, Montgomery, and Greenville.

I wasn’t going to make it back to Ocean Springs with just the fuel from Pine Mountain so I picked my next stop for the lowest priced fuel which worked out to be in Evergreen, Alabama. My fuel wasn’t the only range-limiter either—my bladder badly needed relief. I made my approach and got down as I quick as I could. As soon as the little A65 went silent I dropped the chocks and ran inside.

After I came back out and refueled, I spoke, or rather shouted over the sound of the airplanes, with the airport manager who was very nice. A few minutes later I was back on track to Ocean Springs.

Soon the bay and downtown Mobile came into sight. I did the math and the time was the same to go around the Mobile Charlie to either the north or the south. I chose the southern route and enjoyed the usual view of the Gulf of Mexico.
Looking North Towards Mobile
Ocean Springs soon came into sight and I was on the ground a few minutes later. I had arranged for a hangar and the airport manager was waiting for me. We pushed her into her new home then I went about removing all my bags and tools as well as cleaning the wings.

I pulled shut the hangar doors with the last of my strength, lifted my exhausted limbs into the truck, drove home, and collapsed into a deep sleep. It had been a good day.

Friday, July 20, 2018

Life with a Luscombe: Return to Clemson

It was my last day of leave and the agenda was stacked. I had been coordinating with Dan over in Clemson to take care of some details with the Luscombe. It was another early morning for my dad and me as we departed around 6:30 for PDK. The forecasts were calling for IFR or poor Marginal VFR conditions for the next hour in Atlanta. It was CAVU just east of Gwinnett County all the way to Clemson. I pre-flighted the airplane with my dad’s help then started looking northeast. I could see IFR conditions to the north heading our way with marginal VFR ceilings overhead. A glimmer of light shown towards Stone Mountain in the east. I decided to make my escape; my dad and I said our goodbyes and I propped the airplane.
Still Inside the Atlanta Perimeter
My preflight and runup checks weren’t rushed but I definitely moved with a purpose. The PDK tower cleared me for takeoff with an eastbound turn. I got up to about 1,200 ft AGL with enough margin to maintain cloud clearance and made my way weaving east. Two miles west of Stone Mountain, I broke out into the clear and started a climb. Another overcast layer hung over Gwinnett County Airport which I passed over as I called for a Class Delta transition.
The Brilliance of a Beautiful Morning
Just east of Gwinnett, all the visible moisture was gone and I was left with the early brightness of the morning. The radio fell silent, the air was as smooth as it ever gets, and I fell into a safe aviator’s daze. The oil pressure and temperature were steady, the Appalachians slowly crept by off in the distance, and the scenery struck me as especially pretty. All of a sudden, I realized I was way too high for such a slow airplane. Pointing the nose gently down, Luscombe 903 easily descended to 1,000 ft AGL and the view got much better.
Pictures Never Do the View Justice
I-85 lay just off the starboard side and I turned to follow it. Chasing trucks with the window open for the next twenty minutes kept me occupied until I came across a private strip. I gave the strip a proper Sunday morning wakeup call at about 200 ft and then got back on course to Clemson. 
A Truck Stop - The View Most Travelers Get
Lake Hartwell came into view. I followed I-85 until I came to the main body of Hartwell and then turned north to follow it to Clemson. I climbed to traffic pattern altitude and joined the left base to Runway 25 for an uneventful landing.
Hartwell Approaching
I taxied clear then headed toward Dan’s hangar. I shut down in front of the engineless Stearman across the way and got out to greet Dan. He looked my airplane over and was very impressed. Cole, the president of the Clemson Flying Club and a good friend, also showed up to help. We pulled 903’s nose into the hangar and got ready for an oil change. This was my first time changing the oil on an A65 and Dan gladly showed me the ins and outs. We pulled out the oil screen and filtered the contents for metal. We found a few tiny flakes, which if I had been solo would have been concerning, but Dan reassured me they were normal. Everything went back together correctly and we put the airplane in a tie down spot and headed out for food.

We rode Dan’s VW Bug, which he had just finished restoring, to Jersey Mike’s for a well-deserved lunch. On the way back, he let me drive and, thankfully, I didn’t burn up his clutch or grind any gears—success!

The wind had really picked up by this point, but Dan said he would tag along with me in his Luscombe for a few miles to get some pictures. He propped me off and I warmed up the Continental as I waited for him. We taxied out together as a flight and, as usual, my tailwheel bumped off the pavement as I attempted to turn back into the wind. Dan reassured me over the radio that I would get it eventually.

Runups complete, I took runway 25 for departure, checked the sock, and applied full power. The wind immediately started to fight me and I got into a weird momentary pitch oscillation. Thankfully ‘903 broke ground for good and clung to the air. Turbulence off the trees made the departure even sportier and I was relieved when the airplane settled into a steady, though choppy, climb. Dan called an abort on his takeoff and told me over the radio that he didn’t think he would be able to make it back into Clemson. Yikes! If Dan was concerned, I really needed to find a good place to stop for gas that wouldn’t be too challenging. The airborne scene had completely changed—gone was the serene breeze, driven out by biting winds, busy turbulence, and building cumulus. The flight home was going to be interesting.

To be continued...

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Life with a Luscombe: To Atlanta!

My alarm rang loudly in my ear at 5:20 as usual. Waking up early was never my strong suit unless there was something exciting planned for the day. Grogginess and a touch of exhaustion overwhelmed my will to wake. Just as my finger began wandering for the snooze button, I remembered that today was the day to fly my brand-new-to-me airplane to Atlanta and attend my sister’s college graduation! Pulling myself out of bed was still a challenge but it was worth the few minutes of misery.

My airplane rested quietly, glistening in the morning dew at Ocean Springs. After I carefully packed my tools, supplies, and bags into the minimalist cabin and baggage compartment, I pre-flighted the airplane. Before I could point the spinner toward Atlanta, I was scheduled to fly with Aaron, my instrument student, over at Trent Lott, KPQL. I secured all three tie-downs for a solo engine-start, flipped open the fuel valve, then twisted the mags on. The A65 kicked to life after my third or fourth swing of the propeller and my little airplane and I were off.
The Simplicity of N77903's Cockpit
I closed the fuel valve just as I rolled onto the ramp at PQL, pulled alongside Aaron’s Cessna, hopped out to tie down, and moved headsets. Our lesson was productive and went smoothly so we had the time to fo up for a short hop in my airplane. Aaron was my first passenger. Back on the ground, I checked my fuel—it was plenty for a leg to Monroe, Alabama, which was right on my course to PDK. Saying farewell to Aaron, I fired up the still-warm A65.

I chose a course northeast around the Mobile Class Charlie airspace. I tuned in to Mobile Approach and requested flight following. The controller got rather testy when I explained I didn’t have a transponder.

“So, you took off knowing your transponder was inoperative?” came the snarky response.

“Negative, Luscombe 77903 is an antique, exempt, non-transponder equipped aircraft; you should be able to pick me up on primary.”

“Roger, advise of any altitude changes.” came the salty reply.

I guess my presence and request had been just enough to push this overworked and grumpy controller over the edge. His bad attitude wasn’t going to ruin my morning as I bumped along under a scattered to broken layer at 3,000 ft. As soon as Mobile either lost me on primary radar or got tired of dealing with me, the controller stated, 


“Luscombe 903 leaving my airspace to north frequency change approved, squawk VFR.”

I set my sights on the expected smooth air above the cloud layer and put full power to 903. The VSI spun to indicate over 1,200 ft/min performance and I was enormously pleased until I glanced at the altimeter. Its needle seemed to move rather sluggishly for what the VSI was suggesting. I whipped out my phone and timed the altimeter for a minute, then compared it to the VSI. The VSI turned out to be reading about twice as strong as the altimeter’s upward spin. Oh, well.

At 5,500 ft the air was perfectly smooth. The little A65 was purring right along, pulling the airplane along at its maximum cruise airspeed of 90 mph. The handheld GPS also indicated a 10 mph tailwind—not bad at all!
Smooth Air Upstairs
Cruising along my route, I stopped thinking about speed. Though a cruising Cessna 150 or even a climbing Cessna 172 would outrun me, I was immensely enjoying the flight! It didn’t feel any bit slower than any other airplane. This was especially true when viewing the earth from several thousand feet where perspective of speed is lost. I realized then and there that I was content with this airplane, my airplane, no matter how fast it went.

That I was flying an airplane was already enough of a sell for me. But there were several other advantages to flying that I could think of. For example, I was going faster than most people are willing to drive on the interstate. In addition, I didn’t have to share the road with those who are willing to drive that fast. My out-of-pocket flying expense was almost identical to fueling my truck for such a trip. I didn’t have to keep the airplane in a lane, the air was cool, and on and on the list went. I have tried on many occasions to explain this to pilots who have grown an insatiable desire to own and fly fast airplanes. Maybe they want a Bonanza, a 182, or a Mooney. But, however they pick their poison, many of these folks could not afford to fly every single day or travel almost anywhere they wish as the Luscombe enables me to—all while enjoying the ride. And for that, I am incredibly thankful. As an old Luscombe pilot once said, “It’s fast enough to get places, but slow enough to enjoy the view.”

The Mobile Bay tributaries quickly poked into view. I flew right by the Outokumpu Steel Plant, which resides on the Mobile River, and snapped a picture with my phone.
The Outokumpu Steel Plant - Not much else out this way
I followed the Alabama River for a few minutes and then eventually turned back on course and paralleled Highway 21 into Monroe County Airport. I traded the runway for the ramp with a flight of two Navy Texan IIs. An Aeronca Chief was parked with its tailwheel nestled in the grass. I shut down by the fuel pumps and chocked the airplane before heading inside the FBO to visit the little boy’s room. As I pulled open the door, the scent of barbeque, all laid out on a long table in the corner of the main room, teased my nose. Was there a party or meeting going on? I didn’t have the courage to ask. I went back out, filled up the Luscombe, and then pushed it over toward the Chief, where there were tiedowns to hold the airplane as I started it.

My stomach grumbled so I consulted my watch—11:30. I didn’t want to wait another two hours to eat so I ducked back inside and asked the lineman if lunch was for sale.

“No, that food is free for our fuel customers.”

“Well, I bought nine gallons; do I count as a fuel customer?”

 “Sure, help yourself.”

Huzzah! A free lunch just for buying gas that I needed anyway! I fixed a heaping plate of pulled pork sandwiches, coleslaw, and chips. Lemonade and cookies finished off my over-indulgence and I stumbled out to the airplane almost in a food coma. The realities of solo hand propping and the roar of the little A65 woke me back up and I set course for Tuskegee, Alabama.
I normally don't take pictures of my food...
Visiting Tuskegee had been on my bucket list ever since I had passed the sign for the Tuskegee Airmen’s Museum in a slow crawl on I-85 a few months earlier. Passing over the interstate, I watched with delight as I passed the scores of backed up cars while I enjoyed my groundspeed and direct course. I passed southeast of Montgomery, admiring the city from a distance. More smooth air above the now scattered layer of clouds made the flight easy and comfortable. I began my shallow descent well in advance, just as the college town of Tuskegee slowly rolled into view. The airport was an easy find and I set up for a left base to Runway 31. A decent wheel landing brought that leg of the trip to a close and I parked next to a sporty white and green RV-8 that was getting ready to depart.

The folks at the Tuskegee FBO were very kind and accommodating with my need to charge the GPS/radio battery. Since 903 doesn’t have an engine driven electrical system, the electronics run off a small 12 volt battery that lives in the instrument panel glove box. I made the short walk over to the museum and enjoyed the aircraft, artifacts, and history on display. The museum owns a Piper Cub, Stearman, and replica P-51, all in pristine condition. With the battery and water bottles topped off, I made my way back out to the airplane and headed for Falcon Field in Peachtree City, Georgia.

Back above the scattered layer, I watched the Alabama countryside peacefully continue to float along beneath me. After reaching the top of climb I passed over the busy Auburn Airport. Heavy student traffic was about and I made sure to call position announcements every few minutes. I then passed between West Point Lake and the massive Kia Motors manufacturing plant near the Alabama border into Georgia. I had seen this plant from I-85 before but was astounded by the sheer number of new cars parked behind the plant.
KIA Motors - All those specks are cars.
Busy Falcon Field came into view a few minutes later under a clear sky. I squeezed into the occupied traffic pattern and made a full stop landing, taxiing clear just as a Diamond Twin Star crossed the fence. I parked between a Cessna 140 and Cessna 170, both fitting tailwheel neighbors. The line guys came out and took my request for a top off and the Aircraft Spruce Shuttle. This new airplane needed some new accessories. The folks at Spruce were very kind and helped gather what I needed as they neared closing time. A short shuttle ride back to the FBO and one gas bill later, I was off for PDK, my final stop. 

Having discussed with Dan, my Luscombe CFI, the regulations about non-transponder operations, I was confident I could fly under the Atlanta Class Bravo shelves without talking to ATC. It turns out the only real limitations of owning a nonelectric airplane is in actually entering Class Bravo and Charlie airspace, which requires calling ahead one hour in advance to coordinate with ATC. Since I don’t ever plan to visit a Class Bravo airport any time in the near future, my only real inconvenience is flying into Class Charlies. Anyway, I departed from Falcon Field and followed a northeast course to get underneath the eastern 2,500 ft approach shelf. Turning north under that shelf at 2,200 ft, I finally spied Stone Mountain, the nearest landmark to PDK.

Calling PDK tower, I reported my position and requested a full stop. PDK asked me to squawk a specific code and I explained as clearly as I could that I was an antique, exempt, non-transponder equipped aircraft. They cleared me to join the left downwind for runway 21L. A nice, tight power-off approach kept me close and I touched down on the numbers. I pulled up at Epps and the linemen who came out were intrigued by my not-so-common airplane. We talked airplanes for a bit as I put the airplane to bed. My dad picked me up a few minutes later and my first full day with Luscombe 903 came to an end.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

Life with a Luscombe: N77903

As I turned onto the private airport's driveway, I spotted the airplane I had come to see—a gleaming Luscombe sparkling in the late afternoon sun. I pulled in and got out as Mr. Louis, the 85-year-old owner, approached from the nearby hangar. He introduced me to his son, then to the airport's owner, a close family friend. I looked the airplane over and talked flying with them. After I had oohed and aahed my fill of the airplane, they offered to take me up for a flight with the airport owner. Always eager to go flying, I didn't have to be asked twice before I had grabbed my headset and flying shoes from my truck.
N77903
I got in the pilot’s seat and reacquainted myself with the Luscombe design. Everything was pretty much a carbon copy of Dan's Luscombe except for a unique battery electrical system encased within the right instrument panel cabinet. It featured an electrical master, a circuit breaker and connection to the panel-mounted Becker glider radio and Garmin 196 VFR GPS. We started and warmed up the little Continental A65. After getting used to taxiing a Luscombe again, I performed the run up and departed. Even on a 3,000 foot grass strip with two people and a full tank, the Luscombe performed well. Lifting off, the airplane climbed out with plenty of margin. A local grass strip soon appeared off the nose and I did one three-point and one wheel landing. My Luscombe skills had been sitting patiently, ready and waiting. Heading back over to the airplane’s home base, I made one last nice landing and some ground handling before putting the airplane to bed. I told Mr. Louis I was willing to purchase the airplane pending the results of a pre-buy. We discussed the details and then I headed back to Biloxi as the sun set.

The following day was spent trying to find an A&P to do the pre-buy inspection. Initially, I wasn’t having much luck, but finally I found someone who was familiar with Luscombes and could do a pre-buy the following Sunday over in Florida. It was going to be tough to get the airplane over there and back due to the distance. He told me that it could be done quickly, in just a little over one week—not good enough for me. My impatience fell into full swing and I kept searching.

Another mechanic, who worked near the airplane’s home base, was available the following Wednesday but wasn’t familiar with Luscombes. However, he had to cancel on me that Monday to recover an airplane that stranded itself in Utah. Thankfully, he provided me with the name of another local mechanic, Amos, who was doing freelance work. I gave Amos a call and he immediately agreed to meet me Thursday afternoon. He was also familiar with Luscombes and older, light aircraft and that greatly set me at ease.

Monday and Tuesday were spent arranging for the loan, insurance, and a two-day leave of absence from my Air Force duties. I got a very reasonable quote from Travers Aviation Insurance but had a little more trouble getting the loan. Thankfully, my friend Todd, a commercial student and local banker, arranged a loan for me through his bank. I got out of work a little early on Tuesday and made my way to his bank to sign the paperwork. Everything sunk in when they counted and handed me a very large wad of one hundred dollar bills. All of a sudden, I was responsible for the largest sum of cash I had ever seen and the nerves kicked in. For the first time, I doubted my purchase, the idea of an airplane, and all that I had dreamt of for years. Todd handed me a locking bank bag which helped to ease my hesitant feelings. That money didn’t get more than about two feet away from me for the next several days. I vowed I would get a cashier’s check the next time. The nerves continued on as I waited for Thursday to arrive.

Thursday morning dawned clear and bright. Since I was fully expecting to be flying N77903 home, I had been looking to arrange one-way transportation out to where the airplane lived in Hammond. Thankfully, my friend Tyson, a doctor who lives in Ocean Springs but commutes to work in Louisiana, was flying to work that morning. I had also arranged for a friend to come pick me up in case the sale went sour. I met Tyson just as the sun was about to break the horizon and we climbed into his little Cessna 150.
Headed to Ocean Springs on I-10 East
Tyson cranked up and we departed runway 36 with a crosswind turn to the west. He called Gulfport Approach just as we were approaching the Keesler Class Delta and we continued our trek westward. We talked flying, CFI stories, and aircraft ownership for the 45 minute hop over to Hammond. We shut down at Pierce Aviation and I thanked Tyson before ducking inside to wait for Mr. Louis, the airplane’s owner, to come pick me up. I slept for most of the morning in Pierce’s comfortable pilots' lounge.

Mr. Louis showed up around 11:00 and we went to a local restaurant for lunch. He told me all about his airline career, which started in the DC-3 era and continued through the age of modern jet travel. He told me about most of the thirty odd airplanes he had owned. It was a pleasure just to speak with such an accomplished pilot. After lunch, we headed for his hangar where we met up with Amos and his son, who arrived very shortly after we did.

We immediately got to work on the pre-buy which started with visually inspecting the engine. Amos was impressed with how clean and well-kept everything was under the cowl. We did a cold compression test and every cylinder was a 78/80; as good as compressions can ever be. We then moved to the cockpit to check over the controls, structure, and seating. We removed the rear wall and inspected the fuel tank and tail cone. Everything was clean and clear except for a dirt dobber nest way down in the end of the tail.

We then moved into removing inspection panels and wingtip fairings. There, in both wings, we found the only negative of the inspectionsome minor and isolated spots of surface corrosion. Amos checked each area carefully and determined that no structural damage had been done and recommended I get a corrosion treatment completed within a few months. It felt like an eternity putting all the inspection panels back in place. They definitely come off quicker than they go back on.

Amos checked a few more odds and ends and then looked through the logbooks. Everything, minus the corrosion, was satisfactory. I paid Mr. Louis, signed the FAA paperwork, then pulled the airplane out into the Louisiana sun. By this point, I realized how tired and thirsty I was. We all took a break and chugged water until we got our strength back. Mr. Louis gave me a free top off, we shook hands, and I climbed into my new bird. 
Mr. Louis and Me
Amos propped me off and I warmed up the little Continental. Once again, I proved to myself that I could taxi the Luscombe and departed. All went well and I circled up over the field to waggle my wings in an aviator’s farewell. There I was in my own airplane, not completely sure in my abilities. It was a peculiar, yet special, moment.

Turning southeast, the Luscombe climbed quickly to 2,000 feet. I found I-12 and started heading east to the I-12/I-10 junction. Passing St. Tammany and Slidell, I made position reports as I transitioned. As the Stennis Space Complex came into sight, I tuned in Stennis Tower and requested and received a transition. On the east side of Stennis, the broken ceilings started to come down to 2,000 feet and I descended to 1,500 feet to stay clear. Gulfport Approach answered my call and I received non-transponder flight following. An air traffic controller friend of mine told me that it was, in fact, very easy for ATC to lock onto a “primary” radar target and I received the usual advisories and service.

Hesitant to jump right into confined landings on pavement, I elected to go to Shade Tree and practice a little on the grass. As I rolled out on the first landing, I spied Mr. Danny’s Camaro so I shut down in front of his office. He came out and looked over the airplane constantly congratulating me on a great purchase. After a while, I started back up and got to work in the pattern. I didn’t take into account Shade Tree’s elevation above sea level and was struggling to get the same kind of steep descending approach Dan had taught me. I was also increasing the speed on final more and more each lap around to try to make the wheel landings better. Danny got on the radio and told me to steepen up the approach and slow it down. It was perfect advice at the perfect time. My landings improved and I departed over to Trent Lott to try my luck on pavement.

Touch-and-goes at Trent Lott were uneventful and I actually made two smooth wheel landings in a row. By this time, fuel was getting a little low and the sun was getting ready to turn off the shine. I taxied over to the self-serve and shut down. To my frustration, the pump was out of service. The lineman eventually helped gas me up from the truck but didn’t have the proper change for my transaction. I barely made it out of Trent Lott with just a sliver of the sun left. The landing at Ocean Springs was pleasantly easy and I tied the airplane down, pulled my gear out of the plane, headed home, and collapsed into bed after a quick shower. I set an early alarm; the next day was going to be a big day for Luscombe 77903 and me.

Monday, July 2, 2018

Life with a Luscombe: Boredom Leads to Buying

It had been a few months since I had settled in Biloxi. While I was having a blast instructing as well as flying gliders and the Pawnee over at Elsanor, there was little to occupy me at work. Unfortunately, the Air Force didn't have much for me to do while I waited to start my class and I started to get bored. My days were spent surfing the web and listening to music at “work.” I had never anticipated that such easy living would get so dull. I was more frequently finding myself on Barnstormers.com.

My flying with Dan had refined my tastes for airplanes to either a Cessna 140 or a Luscombe 8A. I was learning as much about these airplanes as I could and was constantly comparing the various ads on Barnstormers. I knew I wanted one of these airplanes for their relative economy compared to other bigger and more expensive airplanes. I wanted an airplane that was as basic as possible, wouldn’t run the bills up, and had fewer complex parts to break. The airplane also had to be either blue and white or blue and silver, my two favorite color combinations. While a 140 has more horsepower than a Luscombe, I liked the idea of not having to comply with the 2020 ADS-B mandate—from which the non-electric Luscombe was exempt. However, my highly specific searches for well-maintained 140s and Luscombes with low-time engines in blue paint did not turn up many matches. The ones that did match were either too expensive or too far away to go look at. I resigned to not buy an airplane until I got my first duty station after Keesler (October, 2018) and paid off the last little bit of my flight training loan. 
Cessna 140, © David Twibell 2018
One day, an unexpected opportunity presented itself to me: I met a gentleman who owned a Citabria that stayed in the main hangar at Ocean Springs, the airport I frequent the most. I found out that the airplane was for sale and was in my price range. All of a sudden, I wanted the Citabria! It was a cool little airplane and it was aerobatic capable—a type of flying I had wanted to get into for a long time. I tried to figure out a time to fly with him but our schedules never quite matched up. 

This got my gears turning. I was right back where I was when I wanted to buy the Cessna 140, only eight months prior. The price was right for the Citabria but the engine was timed out and I wasn't ready to foot the bill for an airplane I hadn’t flown and didn’t have much time left on the overhauled engine. However, this opportunity got me back into the mood for buying an airplane. After some hard thinking and research, I couldn’t come up with any excuses that outweighed my reasons to buy an airplane. The money situation was right if I were to get a loan and, location-wise, all of the base options I had on my assignments list were conducive to me owning an airplane. My projected purchase date of late 2018 started to creep closer and closer. Almost as if it was meant to be, I discovered one of the few airplanes that met my criteria: a 1946 non-electric blue Luscombe that was only 70 miles away over in Hammond, Louisiana! 
Luscombe, © David Twibell 2018
I called the owner on a Wednesday and arranged to go over that Sunday to take a look at the airplane. However, early in the afternoon, my last student of the day cancelled his lesson. Being booked solid for flying lessons two weeks in advance, I’m usually not pleased when a student cancels on short notice—especially on such a good weather day since another student could have taken the slot. But this time, I couldn't get the airplane out of my mind so I called the owner back and asked if I could come see it that evening instead. He said yes, so I headed for Louisiana immediately after leaving work. I was excited and nervous all at once! I started thinking about all of the logistics I would have to arrange to make this all work out: a loan, hangar, insurance, supplies, and a prebuy. The pit of my stomach got heavier and heavier as my truck rolled west to the Bayou State.

To be continued...

The Wing to Parachute Conversion

If you’re like me, the first time you went out to stall an airplane was probably a stressful experience. The reality of that experience has ...