Stearman Training


First Flight
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All of the training and flying I have done since starting down this path of aviation several years ago has been vaguely aimed at one day flying warbirds. The Luscombe, glider flying, the Pitts, and many other endeavors have all been stepping stones on this path. When I took my first two flights in a Stearman with Dan, my tailwheel mentor back in 2015 and 2017, I had been overwhelmed by this open cockpit tailwheel beast. Dan and I had big plans for more Stearman training but I knew that until I got some serious tailwheel time under my belt it would have been for not. 

Having recently received my next Air Force assignment and departure date from Keesler, I realized the opportunity of the Shade Tree Stearmans would be a waste if I didn't act soon. Working up nerve, I asked one of the Stearman owners if I could use his airplane for some training and was very thankful for his very gracious approval. I made arrangements with Mark Stevens, the local instructor extraordinaire, to teach me. 

The first day of my Stearman training dawned as many idyllic flying Saturdays do--cool, clear, and bright. Hoping to arrive shortly after sunrise, I got up early and headed for Ocean Springs to get the Luscombe ready. Even though it would have been faster to just drive to Shade Tree, I had plans at the glider port after the lesson and the Luscombe would end up saving time in the long run. 

Joining the downwind, I pulled the power and made my usual slipping approach into Shade Tree. We rested on the porch for a while and talked airplanes while the shadows grow shorter. A fox crossed the runway. We talked Stearmans a bit and then headed for the warbird hangar. I pushed the huge doors open and there sat my latest challenge--a burly Navy Stearman.


Preflight was about average for any old airplane and we hauled it out by the struts into the morning light. Climbing up onto the front seat, I held onto the wing handles and slowly worked my way in. While fastening my headset, I took inventory of the front office--one large wooden stick, two pedals, a throttle quadrant, a trim handle, and some basic gauges were all that was present.

As the electric starter swung the giant wood club of a prop, I snugged down the belts and dropped my seat to the bottom of its travel. The view certainly wasn't great but at least I could see the main gear if I strained and I could also see some of what was ahead around the gaps in the radials’ spaced-out cylinders. Since the owner isn't an instructor, he taxied us out and took care of all the housekeeping items. Memories of getting blasted in the back seat of the Clemson Stearman came back but as the Continental was pushed up for takeoff, I was glad to find the front seat fairly well protected from the wind. 

I enjoyed our lumbering climb into the brilliance but it was accompanied with the constant shatter of the open intercom--a side effect of a dirt simple electrical system. Offering me the stick, I took the controls and focused on my pitch attitude and coordination. Nothing was happening too quickly and I was pleased to note that the controls responded to my inputs without much of a fight. This big Stearman flew more like Dan's 1941 Buick taking corners at 40 mph as opposed to my friend's little Miata which whipped around curbs on campus.

I started experimenting with some steep turns and then graduated to some power-off stalls. As the baseball bat of stick came back into the seat, the ailerons noticeably shook, kindly warning of the impending stall just as the old Navy training video had explained. Recovery was normal as the power and stick both went smoothly forward while holding the dirty side down with the rudders.

A power-on stall showed no surprises so I asked to do a few lazy eights. Giving it the gun, I sped up to a whopping 90 mph and then gracefully eased back the stick and worked the rudders and ailerons over to the left. They certainly weren't up to check ride standards but these wingovers gave me a good feel for the airplane.

Heading back towards the field, I asked to see a landing so we joined the downwind at 600 ft AGL. Coming abeam, the power came back to the stop and we started a constant descending turn for the runway. Just about like the Luscombe in a full turning slip, we came down nice and tight and quick, something that had my eyes bulging the first time Dan demonstrated it on my first ride. 

The great part about the Stearman in this maneuver is its surprisingly good visibility. Turning in an open cockpit with the nose well down, keeps the runway in sight until established on final. If you keep your turn tight enough you can effectively end up on final at the numbers and if you are really good--all the way to touchdown.

After a full stop and taxi back, I was given the controls and made my first ever Stearman takeoff. I had enough visibility to be confident in where I was going and made a similar pattern. Reaching the end, I pulled the power back to idle and got some verbal abuse from the backseat. Snatching the throttle back, like I guess I have always done, is not good for the engine, especially a radial.

I made a three-point landing and found my way down to the ground safely and slowed us to a walk. An awkward slow turn got us headed back for another takeoff and I tried to internalize by being gentle with the throttle. I gave it the juice again and we went around for one more three-point. I guess I was on autopilot and pulled the throttle back again a little bit too quickly. Another safe landing and we taxied for the gas pumps. 

Mark eventually showed up and I climbed into the back seat this time--the seat from which a Stearman must be soloed and has worse visibility. This cockpit does however, have all the other required handles. S-Turning my way to the end I constantly strained for visibility. The runup was no issue but by the time we were airborne, I knew something was wrong. I couldn't hear Mark at all over the intercom. I was also getting blasted just like my first flight with Dan. 

I did the best I could and told Mark I was going to go back around for a full stop. He gave me a thumbs up from the front seat. Thankfully, Mark's voice and coaching came back into hearing range as the power came smoothly back to idle and I made a decent straight-wheel landing. As the tail dropped, I shifted my vision to the runway edge markers which went by every few seconds. A particular puffy cloud sat on the tip of the fuel gauge which was sticking out the top of the wing and gave me reassurance that we were still fairly straight during the uncertain times between markers.

Mark took the airplane and I went to adjust my seat. Pulling the handle on the right side of my seat, I dropped suddenly and bottomed out. I was now much lower with even less visibility but it was still enough for nine more landings. The blast of air was now only slightly worse than the front seat and Mark and I were able to carry on a conversation even at full steam.

Each pattern involved keeping us straight on departure, hoping we went straight up the gap in the trees at the end of the runway, pulling the power back to 1,750 rpm for climb power, climbing to 400 ft AGL, turning to downwind, throttling back, turning to touchdown, praying for a safe landing, and then punching and jabbing on the rudders to keep us straight as I prayed for the next set of markers to come along telling us if we were on center and straight.

My wheel landings were getting pretty good and I was even pinning it down on the runway consistently. The power would come in shortly thereafter and I would then finagle and encourage our big steel and fabric biplane back into the air. We finished with a few three-point landings that went surprisingly well minus a bit of ballooning that was promptly fixed with some power.

We pushed her back into the hangar and wiped down all of the leading edges ready to return the following week for some more hopefully productive warbird training.

Second Flight
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After two weeks of fun-ruining rain, the opportunity to once again fly the Stearman presented itself. Grand visions of climbing out of Ocean Springs and turning west for Shade Tree as a single star broke the horizon, I set my alarm for a predawn hour. Unfortunately, thoughts of both Luscombe and the Stearman were not enough to avoid one punch of the snooze button. Stumbling around for clean-enough clothes, fumbling for breakfast, and stopping for Luscombe gas were enough to put me well behind schedule. Thankfully, Mark wasn't in any rush and since we both left Ocean Springs about the same time, me by air, and him by car, I still made it there first with enough time to preflight.

As we had the time before, we started with wheel landings which went quite well. After the first takeoff, the continual panic from lack of view, which had beset me on our first lesson, vanished. It all seemed to come naturally and the airplane was always straight as reaffirmed by Mark's calming encouragement. We switched to full stop three-points which needed some work in getting just right.

The wind was calm and so as we slowed after a landing, we simply turned around and departed the opposite direction. In a little over half an hour and eight landings we agreed my skills were fine and Mark liked my suggestion of heading to Gulfport for hard surface landings. He took it on downwind and I fumbled with the radio. With the volume all the way up and my head down I was barely able to make out Gulfport's clearance to join the pattern. 

As we approached the field, Mark tried to explain something about directional control and tires on pavement but, unfortunately, it went in one ear and out the other. Thankfully, the winds were calm and I joined a high base for 14. We were cleared for the option and I visually worked my way down to the runway. It was right about where I thought it was and the left wheel chirped onto the pavement. Right then what Mark had explained made sense. The airplane pulled slightly left and then as the right wheel chirped on it pulled slightly right. Tires, especially big heavy ones like those on the Stearman, have to grab the runway and spin up very quickly.  

In the Stearman, these rather large tires have a lot of inertia that noticeably pulls the airplane if both tires don't touch at almost exactly the same time. We did a few patterns as I got used to the airplane on pavement. Once Mark was comfortable with me on asphalt, we did several landings and takeoffs in a row on our 9,000 ft runway. Three was the record of the day. 

Heading back to Shade Tree, we agreed I just needed some crosswinds to cement my skills. A floating three-point landing brought us back in for a full stop. As we deplaned, the owner headed our way and asked how it went. Mark talked with him in private and then he came and asked me personally how I felt in the airplane. Without much more conversation, he startled me by recommending I solo the Stearman. I had to get to Elsanor to tow but told him I would think about it.

All the way to the glider port and the rest of the day, I thought about this incredible opportunity to make my first warbird solo. Consulting with a few pilot friends, the resounding answer was, “Yes! Go Solo!” Now, all I needed was some good weather to make it happen. The forecast, to my chagrin, was grim. 

Third Flight
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Wednesday is the weekly dinner at Shade Tree. The weather was the usual summer crappy but at the last minute things cleared up and my friend Tod and I headed for Shade Tree in the Luscombe. We were worried about the condition of the field as the radar had showed some cells going by earlier that afternoon. Thankfully, a post landing inspection showed the Luscombe to be clean and dry. 

We pulled out the airplane again and talked about the airplane's gross weight with both seats occupied and density altitude. I wasn't following but went about getting ready. The conditions were about typical for a summer afternoon. I did a final walk-around and climbed in. Taking my hat off, I slipped behind me in the seat. Getting everything adjusted, I double checked my cockpit flow.

Seat and Rudders Adjusted - Trim Neutral - Mixture Rich - Mags Off - Controls Checked - Master and Generator Off.

I primed it six times, turned on the master, and hit the starter. I pumped the throttle and cracked it as the prop swung through and then turned on the mags at five blades. As usual, the big radial up front didn't even slumber. I turned everything off and primed it a couple more shots. After quite a bit more coaxing, it finally kicked to life. I got it up to 500 rpm and let it warm up. 

After I finally convinced myself everything was fine, I taxied out and did my run up. Another check and I was ready to go. Departing straight out, I climbed to 400 ft and pulled it back to climb power. I kept looking up at the empty seat in front of me. The view wasn't any better but the feeling was about the same as my first solo back in 2011 and my first solo in the Pawnee just a few months prior-- little eerie with a pit in my stomach. Heading east, I made some gentle turns and then worked into some steep turns. I finally convinced myself that I could fly this thing. The wind beat against me as it always did but was acutely more personal. I strained in my seat to feel as much wind as I could and then gave a whooping yell at the top of my lungs. The wind carried it away immediately. 



As I headed back in, I made the classic three landings. They were exceptionally smooth wheel landings and I was really pleased. Not wanting to overdo it, I taxied back and shut down. As the prop stopped, I looked down to my horror to see the generator off. Todd and the owner drove up right behind and asked why I had stopped so early. I gave a noncommittal answer and then he offered I take Todd up. He jumped at the chance and they spun the airplane around while I stayed in the seat.

I was worried she wouldn't start thanks to my negligence but after some extra priming, it kicked to life. The generator was the next item of business and was promptly flipped on. We taxied out and basically did a repeat of my previous flight but now I was instructing! In three flights, I went from student, to solo, to instructor. Not bad.

We went out and I got Todd on the controls for some air work. He got the hang of it but I could definitely feel his timidity sense of being overwhelmed. It reminded me of exactly how I felt on my first flight in a Stearman three years prior.

We came in for a low pass at about thirty feet and the relatively gentle pullup at the end felt really good. We came back around and I made a few more landings for Todd to see what it looked like from the cockpit. A final stop brought my first solo and first dual given in the Stearman to an end. We pushed the airplane back into the hangar, wiped it down, plugged in the trickle charger, and headed inside for some dinner.

Conversation with many old hands at dinner revolved around other topics besides the Stearman. It felt good to be surrounded by much more experienced pilots who saw the Stearman as just another airplane--a very special historical airplane, but from a pilot's standpoint still just another airplane. Having added another airplane to the growing list, I was starting to agree. As Mark put it, fly the speeds, don't tick it off, and just put it on the centerline and keep it there. 

Fourth Flight
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The next Shade Tree Wednesday rolled around and work seemed to just drag on and on. Each hour felt like two. The last half hour was the worst. We were finally released and I bolted for Ocean Springs to pull out the Luscombe and head for Shade Tree. Weather was coming in off the water west of field as usual and I kept my eye on the radar. It started out heading our way but as the afternoon now sped by, it turned and stayed downwind. 

The usual slip brought me in for a three-point just past the big bump on the approach end of runway 17 at Shade Tree. Pulling off the runway, I turned off the fuel and kept the power up as I taxied in. Just as it started to die, I kicked the rudder and pointed it perpendicular to the tiedown line. Climbing out, I headed for the grill and sat around for a bit with the usual predinner crowd. Without me asking, the Stearman's caretaker asked if I was going to fly. "Well, if that's okay with you, then sure!" was my reply. I headed for the hangar and a fellow Shade Tree bum, Allan, followed me out.

We got the airplane ready as usual and climbed in. Also, as usual, the R680 up front wasn't happy with me and it took two attempts and extra priming to get it started. I made a few wheel landings on the grass and then asked Allan if he would be up to go to Gulfport. I already had the tower frequency in standby and it was an easy switch. Gulfport came right back to me and cleared us for the option on 14. Tim and Kathy, two friends of Shade Tree, were manning the tower and were glad to have us. 

A slight right crosswind was blowing and I could just barely feel it on the first few wheel landings. On the fourth or so landing, I checked the sock but as we touched down I felt us swing to the right. The wind, chirping tires, and heaven knows what else had conspired against us staying straight on the centerline. I wasn't about to find out what was going wrong and gave it the gun. I got it back in the air where it belonged and Allan agreed it hadn't felt right. 

Wanting to feel out the crosswind from the other direction, I asked to switch to the intersecting runway. As we turned our typical high and tight base, Tim cleared a jet to land back on Runway 14. My requested low approach was turned into a stop-and-go. I could either go around or make it a full stop. A glance at the windsock showed it to be fairly benign. I didn't see any harm with continuing the approach and was locked and loaded for a go-around. Everything turned out fine and we rolled to a stop with plenty of runway remaining. A few more laps filled up our vintage airplane appetite and then headed back to Shade Tree to fill our empty stomachs. It had been another great evening spent with an amazing airplane.

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