It’s no secret that pilots of complex and high-end aircraft have been dealing with the trend of higher rates and even non renewed policies, especially older pilots and those with limited experience in type. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you have to sunset your flying career once you reach 70—the point in life where underwriters consider you a “senior” pilot. Moreover, with a savvy approach, some compromises and hard training requirements, insurance can be available for younger and green pilots stepping into tailwheels and turbines.

Plus, insurance pros unanimously say to find an insurer you’re happy with and stick with them for the long term because loyalty matters. At the same time, show the underwriter you’re doing everything possible in the name of safety, and that includes sourcing quality flight training and on a regular basis.

Here’s a general insurance guide, with tips and advice from those who write the policies and pay out the claims.

Old Plane, Older Pilot

Making matters worse is that companies are putting limits on insured value. Just because you have $350,000-plus invested in your refurbished piston single typically valued at $125,000 doesn’t always mean you’ll be able to insure it for its full upgraded value without solid proof it has all the upgrades. These days, with avionics, paint, and engine upgrades, it’s easy to get upside down from an insurance standpoint.

Marci Veronie from Avemco Aviation Insurance said the company writes policies based on what it calls “stated” proof of equipage.

“If you can prove to me you have it in what you want covered, and we can agree, that’s what we’ll write the policy for,” said Veronie, noting that clients send photos, videos, and equipment specs that are cross-checked against the company’s reference guides.

• READ MORE: Aircraft Insurance Market Has Stabilized—Somewhat

Essentially, do your best to prove what you think the aircraft is worth. If you sold the aircraft tomorrow, what would you get for it?

The other issue is maintainability. The parts availability issues for some older airplanes are trickling down to the insurance market, which means you’ll be paying more out of pocket for repairs.

In the insurance world this is called a component parts schedule, which means insurers will only pay out a percent of the loss of a flap or wing or tail section, as some examples. It’s a snag for uncommon experimentals and certified aging aircraft alike.

Scott Smith from Iowa-based Scott “Sky” Smith Insurance said that these days it’s not just the age of the pilot but the age of the aircraft that concerns insurers.  Some companies have stopped insuring Cessna piston twins older than 30 years—a major chunk of the fleet. Others have walked away from turbine conversions.

There are a few underwriters who say claims can sit in limbo for many months because of parts shortages. For others, where it’s impossible to source parts, the aircraft becomes a loss, the insurer pays it out and unloads it to the highest salvage bidder. Part of the reason for rate increases is the increasing cost of replacement parts. Think about that before buying something rare, exotic, or classic.

It has taken a while for the underwriting world to sync up with the huge jump in value of used aircraft, though prices do seem to be stabilizing. Still, while an older Skyhawk might sell for big money, that doesn’t mean an insurer will write a policy with limits that match the value. Good insurers will routinely ask what improvements were made to the aircraft, including the big ones like avionics upgrades. Plan on providing proof of equipage (make sure all equipment is registered with the manufacturer) and keep tight engine logs.

Speaking of engine time, one FAA inspector advises that insurers deny claims if the aircraft’s engine is beyond TBO and the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) report cites engine failure as a probable cause of the crash. We call that nonsense. Engine TBO is not a requirement in Part 91 ops, but instead a suggestion from the manufacturer.

Who Is This Guy?

Part of the problem that’s frustrating for aging pilots is the stereotype. Not all senior pilots are hobbling around with a cane and short of breath, because in general, aviators tend to keep themselves in reasonably decent shape.

Insurance pros agree that for an underwriter sitting at a desk in Big City USA, it is difficult to evaluate an aging pilot’s risk. As one insurer put it: “How do you know if you are writing [for] the 60-year-old 80-year-old, or the 80-year-old 60-year-old?” The companies really don’t because people age at different rates. Some lag behind their chronological age, and some are way ahead of it. Some are fit enough to compete in endurance events, while others can’t walk a mile without falling over.

Some also argue that with age comes more sound aeronautical judgment, and for career aviators, lots of real-world experience. That may be true, but is it canceled out with declining situational awareness and reaction time? The low-hanging fruit is accident history. Almost every company did tell us that they experienced a slightly higher accident rate among the senior pilot customers. As a result, a 77-year-old pilot with two gear-up landings in the last three years, or who ran one tank dry and made an off-field landing with 40 gallons in the other tank, is probably not a good bet when it comes to risk.

• READ MORE: Airplane Insurance Trend Could Be Bad for Us All

Two areas of human thinking that researchers say suffer the most and the soonest from aging are working memory and reaction time. Working memory is defined in different ways, but we use it here to mean the part of transient memory used to temporarily store and manipulate information, such as reading back an approach clearance or running a checklist from memory. Underwriters have relied upon medical certification to give them some reassurance about the physical fitness of their clients and in some cases require additional FAA medical exams because it’s more data that they can put in the pilot’s files. The annual FAA medical including electrocardiogram (EKG) has been a favorite for years.

Another clue that underwriters look at is how much time a pilot has in the same type of airplane in which they are looking to be insured. Some aging pilots can easily tackle the challenge of a different airplane with lots of new features and complex systems, but many cannot. One underwriter said that while his company insures many older pilots, it tends to avoid older pilots who were making transitions, especially large ones—such as from a piston to a turbine. The required learning of new systems may be a challenge—and insurers know it.

What Scares Them?

Insurance underwriters consistently tell us that assessing the risk factor is easy simply because they have years of data, proving that pilots continue to bend aircraft the same way they always have, despite huge leaps in tech with layers of automated backstop.

We concur. Over at sister publication The Aviation Consumer magazine, we’ve been studying monthly NTSB accident reports for more than 50 years and come up with the same stats, again and again. Whether it’s runway loss of control (RLOC), continued VFR into IMC, loss of control in IMC, botched instrument approaches, low/reckless flying—the list is long—crash patterns are predictable, especially for taildraggers.

For prospective tailwheel owners and current owners 70 or older, the hard market means doing some homework before applying for insurance or renewing an existing policy.

Mike Pratt, an aviation insurance broker with Foundation Risk Partners, a large brokerage with offices in 14 states (he’s been a tailwheel owner and pilot for years) had some good advice. According to Pratt, a high number of claims because of careless prangs and the lack of pilot training are what is driving the insurance market for tailwheel airplanes above and beyond the hard market. There are only about a dozen insurance companies that write for aviation and not all will insure tailwheel airplanes, so it’s up to the owner to put their best foot forward when seeking insurance.

What are red flags to underwriters? In the tailwheel world, it’s little airplanes with very high hull values. That means that if you haven’t yet obtained a tailwheel endorsement, don’t buy a brand-new Husky, Scout, Maule, or XCub, to name a few, and expect to get insurance with one simple phone call. If you can get it at all, it could cost at least $15,000 for the first year.

Moreover, get time in the type of airplane you intend to buy—even if it’s only five hours—before you apply for insurance. Putting down a zero in the time type box in the insurance application means that some of the companies will not even look at you. Also, plan on completing as much dual instruction as the insurer requires in your new airplane before you fly it solo. It’s amazing that some owners don’t want to part with a couple thousand dollars for training after spending a couple hundred thousand for the airplane.

Pratt said he sees pilots become cheap about training way too often and believes it’s one of the most foolish things they can do. Truth is insurance companies have had their financial faces rubbed in the value of training for years. They know it keeps claims down. Plus, do you want to deal with having to repair your new bird when quality training might have avoided it altogether?

If you are 70 or older and have been able to get insurance for your tailwheel airplane, don’t rock the boat. Do not change insurers. Don’t get huffy in response to a big premium increase—the odds are that no one else will insure you, and the insurance company that has been loyal to you may drop you. We hear from senior pilots on a regular basis faced with nonrenewals, regardless of their claim histories. The bottom line with taildraggers is get an insurance quote before making a deal on one, while accepting that at some age, if you want insurance, you’ll have to switch to a nosewheel airplane.

Underwriters also look at what kind of airplane their older customer is flying and the amount of liability coverage they carry. Bear in mind that the insurer has in effect promised to pay for the airplane, and the limit of liability, if things go really badly—as it certainly sometimes does. Underwriters treat this as very real money. So, the older pilot in a Cessna 172 insured for $90,000 who carries $1 million of liability coverage limited to $100,000 per passenger causes an underwriter much less concern than the older pilot flying a Piper M600, as one example, worth $4 million and toting liability limits of $5 million.

Last, senior pilots flying retracts and twins seem to be attention-getting for many underwriters, even though the available evidence is confusing and even contradictory. Many of the studies based on accident analysis include only NTSB-reportable occurrences, which are only a fraction of all aircraft insurance claims. And how do we tell whether a gear-up landing is just an “oops’’ or was caused by age-related factors? Plenty of youngsters have committed the $60,000 slide, and plenty of younger pilots do some pretty stupid things.

Training, Currency, Medical Certification

This includes earning a new rating or two, which underwriters see as a good thing. So is the client who goes out for additional recurrent training on their own. Currency can be a good gauge for risk because the pilot who is flying 100 hours a year, getting periodic training and proficiency checks, plus maybe doing an FAA WINGS phase, should look good to an underwriter concerned about that aging pilot keeping his head in the game.

On the other hand, insurers have said that the mere issuance of a medical certificate does not provide the underwriter with much information about either gradual deterioration of a pilot’s skills, nor does it provide much ability to predict sudden medical incapacitation—as rare as it may actually be. So it’s easy to wonder how belt-and-suspender safety backstops (including Garmin’s Emergency Autoland and other autopilot-based equipment) will affect the insurance underwriting landscape. From what we can tell, it helps sell airplanes to aging pilots.

Avemco offers sizable discounts for pilots who go the extra mile in the knowledge- and skill-building department.

Seaplanes, Turbines, Experimentals

Unanimously, insurance pros admit that rates for these aircraft can be extremely high, and some might not be insurable at any cost. Avemco said it can help ease the pain if the floats are taken off and wheels installed during the offseason, if you operate in northern climates. Yes, skis are the same as wheels in the eyes of Avemco and most insurance companies, so they won’t alter the cost.

Got a fresh seaplane rating in your wallet? Resist going out and buying a high-performance model like a Cessna 206 or big-engine Maule on amphibs. Instead, consider something you can insure yourself for any physical damage. Maybe something pretty simple, such as a Luscombe or even a Cub on floats, until you get some time in your logbook.

Building an airplane from a kit? The advice is to stick with ones with large fleet sizes. Almost every underwriter recognizes models from Van’s, Sonex, and Zenith as being good choices. Replacement parts are a big concern for underwriters, and so is complexity, so it might be best to build a fixed-gear airplane (with a tricycle configuration) and avoid rare or one-off kits. Unless you have serious amounts of turbine time in your logbook, an experimental turbine will have your underwriter laughing.

Speaking of turbines, they’re certainly doable, but be realistic. As one underwriter put it, “the owner-flown jet and turboprop market is where all the hand-to-hand fighting is. Liability limits are being cut in half, premiums are doubling, and it’s sort of a failure of the insurance business to get this far behind the curve that we can’t provide the product at a reasonable price.” Another made a good point: “High-performance aircraft, including turbines, may be the big-buck business insurance companies want, but they may not want the pilot that goes along with the policy.”

Stepping into the world of an owner-flown turbine means you’ll need to spend quality time with your insurance broker to find out whether you can get a policy that covers you in the airplane and limits of liability that you need to protect yourself, as well as the conditions and its cost. Accept that your age and experience are the two drivers that determine your insurability when stepping up to turbine machines.

It may be that you will be unable to buy insurance to fly a dream airplane single pilot at any price. We’ll say it right here: If you are over 65, the current market means there’s little likelihood that you can get insurance for a first-time step-up to a turbine.

Wrapping It Up

Who knows when we’ll see another soft insurance market, but for now the best thing anyone—old or young—can do to stay insured for the long haul is simply don’t crash. That could mean piling on extra layers of training, being realistic with yourself on your skill set, and for aging pilots staring down age 70, accepting that downgrading to a simpler aircraft is the simplest way to keep flying. No matter what you fly, show your insurer that you’re serious about training and proficiency with a well-kept training log.

And simply prepare for the payout. By that we mean keeping all of the aircraft’s maintenance paperwork in order, including sign-offs for annual inspections and airworthiness directive (AD) compliance. While insurers will police it before writing a new policy, you don’t want to be scrambling to get the paperwork in order after an accident.

Last, if you’ve been a longtime customer to one company, keep it that way. Now is not the time for aging pilots to jump carriers, because in a hardened insurance market, loyalty matters.

This feature first appeared in the Summer 2024 Ultimate Issue print edition.

The post Ultimate Issue: Staying Insured Encompasses Training, Loyalty, and Downsizing appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1946 Cessna 140.

There were a lot of GA aircraft on the market in the years right after World War II, including a range of small, light two-seat personal airplanes such as Piper Cubs, Aeronca Champs, Luscombes, and Taylorcrafts. Some of the designs dated to before the war, while others, like the Cessna 140, had come along afterward and had a relatively new look and feel.

Having flown a number of these old classics, I can say the Cessna tops my list because of its easy handling and side-by-side seating, which I prefer because it enhances interaction with the passenger and gives the airplane a more pleasant shape to my eye.

This 1946 Cessna 140 has 7,270 hours on the airframe and 399 hours on its 90 hp Continental C90-14F engine. The panel includes a King KX-170B nav/com with OBS, King KT-76A transponder, PS Engineering PMA 4000 audio panel with two-place intercom, and uAvionix ADS-B.

Pilots looking for a handsome, economical vintage taildragger that will transport them almost all the way back to aviation’s golden age should consider this 1946 Cessna 140, which is available for $43,000 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Finance. For more information, email info@flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Approachable Aircraft: The Cessna 120/140
• FLYING Magazine: Man Sells Old Cessna 140 at Garage Sale
• FLYING Magazine: Five Taildraggers That Are Easy To Buy, Fly, and Insure
• Plane & Pilot: This Incredible Plane: Cessna 140
• Plane & Pilot: Cessna 120/140
• The Aviation Consumer: Used Aircraft Guide: Cessna 120/140

The post This 1946 Cessna 140 Is a Sweet Vintage Taildragger and an ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

In the Luscombe family, that crazy uncle is the unique T8F. At first glance, it appears quite similar to the traditional Luscombe 8 taildragger. Most parts are common, after all, and the wing, landing gear, engine, and tail are almost indistinguishable from the standard model.

• READ MORE: The Luscombe 8 Offers a Unique Trip Back in Time

Setting it apart, however, is an entirely different passenger cabin and seating arrangement. Rather than the standard Luscombe’s tight, side-by-side seating, the T8F uses a tandem configuration, placing one seat in front of the other. The aft occupant is provided with a massive bubble canopy that extends above the wing and provides a panoramic view around the airplane.

Why did Luscombe develop such a derivation of the successful standard version? To compete for a military contract—specifically one with the U.S. Army for a liaison aircraft. Luscombe reasoned that with a minimum amount of engineering effort the modified version could perform the role and increase sales.

When Aeronca won the contract, Luscombe was left with a unique model that was fully flight tested but lacked clear direction. It offered legitimate operating economy and outstanding visibility from the rear seat, and it would surely be perfect for certain applications. Looking to make the most of the opportunity, the company put its marketing team to work. 

Before long, Luscombe presented two versions of the T8F for the civilian market. The standard version, marketed as the Silvaire Observer Special, targeted such duties as pipeline inspection and aerial observation. The Silvaire Sprayer incorporated larger tires, flaps, and spray equipment for aerial application duties.

Luscombe claimed the Sprayer was the first production airplane to be factory designed and engineered specifically for aerial crop spraying. While the accuracy of this claim might rely on nuance with specific wording and definitions, it’s safe to say that the type bridged the gap between early modified types, such as Stearmans, Huff-Daland Dusters, and later types that were legitimately purpose-built from the ground up for agricultural duties, such as the Snow S-2 and Fletcher FU-24.

Of the roughly 100 examples produced, 25 remain on the FAA registry. Several examples, such as the one pictured in this article, sport a military livery. While no T8F served in any branch of the military, the colors shed light on what might have been had the type been selected over the Aeronca so many years ago.

As a pseudo-warbird, a T8F would be relatively easy to own. With most parts common to the far more plentiful standard Luscombe models and simple, straightforward systems, it would present few headaches or pitfalls compared to other types. Additionally, the unique tandem seating affords larger pilots the shoulder room and cabin width necessary to fly a Luscombe in relative comfort. 

Best of all, the T8F offers a glimpse into a little-known footnote of aviation’s past. Like that crazy uncle with an unusual background and bizarre stories to tell, the T8F provides an intriguing history lesson and captivates audiences wherever it goes.

The post The T8F Is Luscombe’s ‘Crazy Uncle’ appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1949 Luscombe 8A.

There were a lot of two-seat taildraggers to choose from after World War II, including Piper J-3 Cubs, Taylorcrafts, Aeronca Champs, and Cessna 120s and 140s. There was also the Luscombe 8 series, with metal construction that seemed modern compared with many of its fabric-covered competitors.

Two design features that help the Luscombe stand out and might make it more appealing to certain pilots are its side-by-side seating and dual control sticks instead of yokes. Other aircraft in the category typically had one or the other, but not both features together. For people who like flying with a stick and sitting next to their passenger instead of in a front-back tandem arrangement, the Luscombe must have seemed just right.

This Luscombe 8A has 2,402 hours on the airframe and 1,138 hours on its Continental C-90-12F engine since overhaul. The engine is rated at 95 hp and is swinging a McCauly two-blade Model 1B90CM propeller. The panel includes a Narco AT 150, Narco Com 610, Sigtronics SPA-400 intercom, and uAvionix SkyBeacon ADS-B Out.

Pilots looking for the charm of a compact 1940s-era taildragger, but would prefer something a little different from the usual Cubs and Champs, should consider this 1949 Luscombe 8A, which is available on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Finance. For more information, email info@flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: The Luscombe 8 Offers a Unique Trip Back in Time 
• FLYING Magazine: Turbine Luscombe For Sale on eBay
• Plane & Pilot: 1946 Luscombe 8E and Mt. Rainier
• Plane & Pilot: LUSCOMBE 8A-8F “Silvaire”

The post This 1949 Luscombe 8A Is an ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick Among Vintage Non-Cub Taildraggers appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1949 Stinson 108-3.

The Stinson 108 series of rag-and-tube aircraft were among the most popular models in the general aviation boom in the wake of World War II. Its four-seat layout set it apart from typical high-wing taildraggers of the time, most of which had just two seats. The Stinson was more like a roomy family car when compared with Piper Cubs, Taylorcrafts, and Luscombes. Indeed, the company called certain utility versions of the 108 “station wagons.”

The 108 made its debut in 1946 as an enlarged derivative of the earlier Stinson Voyager and progressed through a series of improved versions, including the 108-1, 108-2, and 108-3. Each successive model came with improvements such as more powerful engines and redesigned controls. Production was brisk and Stinson built more than 5,000 108s before Piper acquired the company in 1948. Piper continued to assemble Stinson aircraft from the existing supply of parts and sold them over several years into the 1950s, but the acquisition essentially marked the end for Stinson.

This Stinson 1949 108-3 has 738 hours on the airframe and 215 hours on its 165 hp Franklin engine. The aircraft underwent a restoration in 2012. Its panel includes a Garmin GNC 250XL GPS/com with a moving map, GTX 320A transponder, and vintage instruments that are new or overhauled.

Pilots interested in owning a classic aircraft that continues to serve as practical transportation while drawing a crowd at the airport should consider this 1949 Stinson 108-3, which is available for $125,000 on AircraftForSale.

You can arrange financing of the aircraft through FLYING Finance. For more information, email info@flyingfinance.com.

• FLYING Magazine: Approachable Aircraft: Stinson 108
• FLYING Magazine: Pilots Gather at the 2022 Stinson Summit
• FLYING Magazine: His and Hers Stinsons
• Plane & Pilot: Stinson 108 “Voyager”
• Plane & Pilot: Rocky Mountain Turbulence In An Old Stinson
• The Aviation Consumer: Buying the Old Ones: Homework Mandatory

The post This 1949 Stinson 108-3 Is a Classic ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick with Lots of Vintage Charm appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

One aspect that few people take into consideration—early in the process, anyway—is ergonomics. This is primarily only a concern with particularly large and small pilots, but it’s an important one nonetheless. Certain aircraft types are simply incompatible with people of certain sizes, and these are pilot/machine combinations to avoid. 

As a larger person who tends to require more shoulder room than most, I learned early on that I’m not suited to certain types. Paired with an instructor of similar size during my primary training in a Cessna 152, I assumed it was customary for both occupants to have to inhale deeply to enable both doors to close. And I assumed it was normal to then have very little (comfortable) range of motion after being squished inside. 

While these uncomfortable realities are perhaps not terribly uncommon, they’re not entirely necessary, especially when buying your own airplane. So, when I fell in love with the flying characteristics of the Cessna 140, I ultimately decided to save my money for another couple of years so I could afford the larger and decidedly less cramped Cessna 170. It was money well spent. Although I would never describe the 170 as a roomy airplane, it improves greatly upon the discomfort of the 140.

But a more interesting question is what types are especially well suited to particularly large or small pilots. Some dedicated investigation can reveal some compelling types that your size, large or small, can unlock. These might be types that you’d never have otherwise considered.

The North American/Ryan Navion was a pleasant surprise when I reviewed it for an upcoming installment of FLYING’s “Air Compare” feature in the print edition. With a cabin that’s spacious enough to enable passengers to move between the front and back seats and a number of controls that require a good reach to access, larger pilots will feel as though the airplane was made just for them.

Similarly, the Cessna 180, 182, and 185 all have quite tall instrument panels and heavy controls, particularly the elevator in the flare with full flaps. They have ample cabin space and enough useful load that baggage and a second sizable occupant is rarely a factor. Like the Navion, these airplanes are entirely flyable by people of all sizes, but larger pilots will likely find them a comfortable, natural fit.

Most large pilots don’t even consider smaller machines like the Luscombe for good reason. The tiny side-by-side cabin is only 39 inches wide. But there’s a sneaky way into Luscombe ownership for larger folks, and it comes in the form of the rare T8F “Observer.” Equipped with tandem (one seat in front of the other) seating, this placement provides twice the shoulder room as a standard Luscombe. A relatively limited useful load remains a restriction, however, and larger pilots generally have it worse than smaller ones because of this.

Speaking from experience, larger pilots look at our bantamweight colleagues with a healthy dose of envy. How nice it would be to instantly have an extra hundred pounds of useful load, or alternatively, less weight with correspondingly better performance. Our abilities to manage heavy control forces and move airplanes around on the ramp with ease are quickly forgotten as we observe departure-end obstacles looming ever closer during one of our luxuriously ponderous climbs.

In addition to enjoying better performance and load-carrying ability, smaller pilots enjoy a backstage pass into a number of correspondingly small aircraft types. The achingly cool Culver Cadet, for example, with its beautiful elliptical wing and retractable gear, offers only about 35 inches of cabin width to its two occupants seated side by side. Even average-sized pilots find this to be cramped, so to be able to fly one around comfortably is a privilege indeed.

The single-seat Mooney M-18 Mite is a type that similarly only accommodates smaller people. An extreme example is the Quickie, an even tinier single-seat—and experimental—aircraft that, with an 18 hp engine, boasts a max cruise speed of 115 mph (100 knots) and can achieve 100 miles per gallon. While either of these can carry a slightly heavier pilot, the cramped cabin limits access to smaller ones.

Not all is fun and games for our smaller friends, however. Fighting an old, stiff fuel hose while climbing up onto a high-wing aircraft isn’t fun for anyone and may be nearly impossible. Getting into and out of a taildragger with big Alaskan Bushwheels can feel like it requires crampons and a rope. And simply moving an airplane around on the ramp or into and out of a hangar, particularly in slippery winter conditions, can become futile. 

The biggest opportunity for the prospective airplane buyer is to take these sorts of concerns into account early in the shopping process. Talk to others of similar size in online forums. Better yet, attend as many fly-ins as possible. There, you can try airplanes on for size and chat with owners of similar size to make a decision you’ll be happy with for the long term.

The post Sizing Up Your New Aircraft appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Tailwheel aircraft arguably are the fullest expression of that freedom because they often don’t need airports at all. A field, dirt path, or gravel bar in the middle of a river will do. While off-airport exploration is possible in tricycle-gear airplanes, the endeavor usually works out better with a tailwheel.  

For many years, taildraggers looked as if they were headed for extinction, or at least obscurity, in part because most students were learning to fly in Cessna 150s, 172s, and other tricycle-gear models. There were few new aircraft with tailwheels, and in the used market, nose wheel airplanes were easier to find, fly, and insure.

• READ MORE: Luscombe 8 Offers Unique Trip back In Time

The arrival of the light sport aircraft segment helped change the market by adding new taildraggers, which many pilots had not seen for decades. However, it seems like a new appreciation for older aircraft has made the biggest difference in the outlook for tailwheel flying.

Younger pilots are gravitating toward the vintage machines, many of them built as far back as the 1940s, because of their classic vintage designs, back-to-basics appeal, and of course, low prices. In an era when trekking through Aviators Hot Line might turn up a 20-year-old Beechcraft A36 Bonanza for $500,000, it is easy to understand why newly certificated airplane shoppers would head straight for the oldies section. That is where the old taildraggers live, and love at first sight is common there.

Pilots should never run blindly into an airplane purchase, and septuagenarian airframes are not for everyone. But if, after proper due diligence, you decide a vintage taildragger is the right airplane, you will find there are many from which to choose. Below are a few models we believe are among the easiest to live with in terms of purchase price, insurance cost, and ease of operation.

Piper J-3 Cub

It makes sense that the airplane that taught generations to fly, beginning in the 1930s, would still have a lot to offer pilots today. Just make sure you are not in a hurry to get anywhere. Many that were delivered with 65 hp engines have been upgraded to 85 or 100 hp, but pilots should not expect to cruise at much more than 60 to 80 knots.

Aeronca Champion

A rival to the Cub, the tandem-seat Aeronca “Champ” is preferred among pilots who like to solo from the front seat instead of the back, like in a J-3. Some say it is more forgiving and has better visibility and a more modern feel than the Cub—it came out in the mid-1940s, after all. Still, deciding between these two mellow old timers mainly comes down to aesthetics. 

Bellanca Citabria

If you like the Champ but want something a couple of decades newer, with more power, and designed for mild aerobatics, the Citabria checks the boxes. The earliest models, introduced in 1964, had 100 hp. Later versions came with bigger engines, some with fuel injection and special oil systems for prolonged inverted flight. It eventually spawned the Decathlon—now produced by American Champion Aircraft—which looks like a Citabria but has a different wing and is capable of more advanced aerobatics. 

Luscombe 8

If you prefer side-by-side seating instead of tandem, and would like something a little rarer than Pipers and Cessnas, you might consider a Luscombe 8. Like many of its two-seat rivals, it does not cost a king’s ransom to insure because despite arguably being collectible, its hull value is relatively low. The variety of models in the 8 series vary in hp and performance.

Cessna 170

Taking a family trip? Then you might want a taildragger with four seats. While there are alternatives to the Cessna—the Stinson 108 comes to mind—few vintage four-seaters are as inexpensive and easy to fly as the 170. It is safe to assume the airplane that gave birth to the Cessna 172 is gentle and forgiving on the ground and in the air. But like the others on this list, it is still a tailwheel aircraft that needs to be “flown” carefully all the way to its parking spot.

The post Five Taildraggers That Are Easy To Buy, Fly, and Insure appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

“I started my involvement with Parkland Estates Airpark (7CO0) by moving there in 2017. We lived nearby and I had always been kind of interested in it, having seen a little Cub fly by there quite a bit. So, one day I took my youngest son there just to kind of watch it take off and land. It’s a private airpark, but we were kind of able to get on the property and watch this Cub do touch and gos.”

But this tailwheel aviator surprised the father-son duo with what he did next. 

“We watched this guy land, taxi over, and come to a stop near us by the fuel pumps. And then to my son, who was probably 3 or 4 at the time, the pilot asked, ‘Hey, does he want a ride?”’

Gottron was happy that his son had one of his first tastes of general aviation that day. 

“I love flying and can’t seem to get enough of it. I work for Frontier Airlines as a captain, and I’ve been there for about 16 years, and a couple of other airlines before that. But I always kept my general aviation love for flying alive by renting, or in the last few years acquiring airplanes. I currently own a little 1946 Luscombe. I also have a Piper Lance, and also, I just sold my Pitts Special, which I really loved flying around.”

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Snagging an Airpark Home

In addition to the Gottron’s home, there are 85 or so residences at Parkland Estates Airpark. Historically, very few of this community’s homes were listed for sale. Because of this, a combination of luck and outward interest early helped Gottron to snag his home when he did. And the person who he first met at Parkland Estates was who provided the tip about a couple of potential listings.

“A few years later, that same gentleman [the Cub pilot] said, ‘I have a couple of properties that aren’t even on the market yet. If you would like to give the owners a call and introduce yourself, you might be able to get in on one.’”

Enthused by the initial experience and all subsequent ones at Parkland, Gottron was quick to pick up the phone. “So that’s exactly what we did, and we were able to acquire one of the homes. It was pretty neat how it worked out. It had been very hard to get into the neighborhood prior to that,” Gottron says. 

“The airpark was started in the late 1970s and a lot of the folks who started it are still here. Some of them weren’t still flying actively but stayed because they really loved the place. To get into a house someone either had to move on or what not. It was really lucky that we were able to get into the neighborhood when we did. A lot of the deals in the last five years have been off market. That is until just recently, with the real estate boom, as some folks decided to sell at the peak last summer. Before then, it was kind of hard to get into Parkland Estates.” 

Gottron contends that this type of relationship building is important, even prior to becoming an airpark resident. This is especially true for those who know that they may one day want to be a hangar home owner and present timing isn’t appropriate, or availability at the desired community is non-existent.

“The thing would be to contact the HOA president [of the community you are interested in]. Ours tries to put out an email to folks when a new home becomes available. We really want to try and keep pilots in the mix here. We hope to be able to get pilots here, as opposed to people who want horse property or regular property. That is kind of how an airpark can die, if you get people that just want acreage and don’t really care about airplanes very much.”

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Even with their best efforts, it can sometimes be challenging for pilots and aviation enthusiasts to become airpark insiders. Even up until relatively recently, it was more difficult for an outsider to become acquainted with Parkland Estates.

“Our airpark is a private community so it has an ‘R’ on the runway for ‘Restricted,’ but we encourage people to come by. If they fly in, it’s no problem, they just have to sign the hold harmless agreement that’s on the website. That way there is no liability for us if something happens. I think over the years it had a stigma of, ‘That’s a private airpark, don’t even go near it,’ and that kind of thing.”

But this type of stigma is detrimental to a fly-in community’s future. 

“We are trying to get away from that and are trying to share our airpark with the community. It’s just for liability reasons you have to sign the hold harmless agreement. We are really trying to be more welcoming of people here, especially nowadays,” Gottron continues.

This warm welcome is extended to aviators through an open invitation for a longstanding Parkland Estates tradition. 

“Every year we have a chili cookoff and fly-in, which is coming up Saturday, October 8. I have been involved with this event before and it’s really a lot of fun. We have a contest for who brings in the best chili, but also for the best airplane that flies in that people like.”

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Communal Bunch

Outside of this event, there is a very communal bunch at Parkland Estates. Gottron says that residents routinely enjoy each other’s company, whether it be a random night’s hangar get-together or a group flying to EAA AirVenture. There are at least 35 airplanes based at the airfield, of which there is a good mix of types.

“It’s all general aviation aircraft that are based here. We have some World War II aircraft; a Stearman, a T-6 Texan, and somebody just acquired a BT-13B. I think that’s it for warbirds, but we have a ton of other taildraggers. In fact, we have a fun thing called Taildragger Tuesday where everybody with a taildragger tries to get up in the pattern before sunset and fly around. So that’s kind of fun.”

After mentioning other onfield aircraft, including some Grand Champions minted in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, Gottron elaborates on Parkland’s two runways. 

“We have one long runway, which is 4,200 feet long and is paved. We just resurfaced it about a year and a half ago, so it’s completely redone. Then we also have a short 2,000-foot crosswind runway that is also paved. And that’s just for north/south landings. Mostly when winds are gusty from the north is when we use it, but the STOL planes typically use that runway.”

The post Parkland Estates Airpark Offers Flying, Community, and Chili appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Andrew Weaver, VA63’s namesake and caretaker, advised what has enabled the grass landing site to make many other airstrip owners green with envy. 

“As far as fertilizer, our poultry litter is pretty hot when it comes to nitrogen and phosphorus,” he said. “We have it tested every couple of years because we sell it to farmers in the area and like to have a litter test to show nutrient makeup for what we got. I use that and soil testing to get the application right and have actually been using very small amounts of poultry litter. That’s why you see the grass so lush and green the way it is.” 

So why does Weaver talk about his fertilizer composition? Those large, mysterious structures on the property are chicken barns. In addition to the 1946 Silvaire Luscombe 8A that Weaver flies, another 160,000 or so other birds call the property home. The square footage within the four buildings is dedicated to Weaver’s robust poultry farming operation, which paved the way for his ability to create an airstrip. 

“My wife and I both grew up in agriculture. Her parents were dairy farmers and my parents were poultry farmers,” Weaver said.. “After we got married and I got done with school, we started looking for a place to build a farm of our own. That search lasted probably six months until we found a spot that fit our liking. And of course, along with that, I was looking for a place where I could do what I wanted agriculturally—but also put together an airstrip at some point.”

As Weaver began building out his acreage, a section of the land stuck out to him. It would be the perfect place to fly from, he thought.

“In 2014, we built two chicken houses,” he said. “So along with that we had to take out quite a bit of topsoil to get down to grade where we could have pads sturdy enough to build those structures. We took out thousands of yards of topsoil and put it in a big pile. Then we pulled clay from another part of the property and spread out the topsoil nice and smooth [over that area],” he recalled. 

The first signs of an airstrip appeared after that work was completed. 

“I had about 750 feet of a runway that I couldn’t use,” Weaver said. “It was kind of tortuous because it was there and I mowed it, but I couldn’t use it for anything because it was too short.”

Weaver continued, “Fast forward to 2019: We had the opportunity to build two more chicken houses. In order to build the access road for those two structures, we came down, farther down along our fence line and pulled clay off of there to build the access road. We ended up with the last part of the airstrip, and all of this we kind of designed into our engineering plans. 

“Because of our chicken house projects, we ended up with a runway for basically free—minus the cost of grading and spreading the topsoil back over the top of it. That’s how the runway came to be.”

Seeding the Strip

His first attempt at seeding the airstrip, however, was a learning experience. 

“I tried to plant grass in 2014 on my little 750-foot section. I didn’t do a whole lot of research and went to the turf management store here locally. I told them what I wanted to do and they said, ‘Here, use this. This will work,’” Weaver explained. 

“I didn’t know a whole lot about it, so I got the dirt ready and spread my bluegrass seed. The afternoon that I did that, we had a thunderstorm that I think dumped two or three inches, and totally wiped all of my seed away.” 

Mother Nature won the first battle, but Weaver was determined and gave it another go. 

“A couple of weeks later I did the same thing and literally the next day the same thing happened,” he said. “So, I kind of gave up and let weeds grow but kept it mowed down nice because a friend of mine with a Just SuperStol liked to use it from time to time.”

Once his time was freed up after completing the property’s last chicken houses, Weaver decided to try his hand once again at turf management.

“I started doing a little more research because it really bugged me how my first attempts at growing grass turned out. So, I got on YouTube and found a couple of guys, some with lawn care businesses and others who are weekend warrior types with really nice lawns. They talked about different types of grass, different fertilizers, watering systems, and all kinds of stuff. I got neck deep into that and decided that bluegrass probably wasn’t for me because it doesn’t tolerate heat very well,” Weaver explained. 

With the help from his school-aged children, his wife, and a friend with heavy equipment, the soil was conditioned, and all the rocks were picked out of it. Now, the scene was set for Weaver’s third attempt at seeding the airstrip surface. 

“I think I used 22 bags of tall fescue seed and spread it all by hand with a little push spreader. Basically, I sectioned it all off with one of those three-hundred-foot tape measures and set a bag for each section. It took me three days to spread it all. We really lucked out…picked a week where it didn’t rain hardly at all.”

Weaver would then go on to explain the careful process of layering the surface with peanut hulls, which served as mulch, in addition to purposely watering and fertilizing the airstrip over the next few months. 

Even with the trials initially overcome, Weaver says that the joys of owning and operating his own airstrip has been well worth the efforts. Not only that, completing the runway was the culmination of a longtime wish inspired by a family member. 

“My [maternal] grandfather, Bob Shenk, is kind of a Luscombe aficionado here and actually has an airstrip just up the valley from me, against the mountain. And honestly, he’s the reason that I wanted to do this at some point. As a little kid he was an inspiration for me wanting to learn to fly and from a very young age wanting to own an airstrip.”

The post An Airport Powered by Chickens appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

In 1948, living in New Jersey, I wanted very much to get into flying. My inquiries led me to Secaucus (now a metropolis in its own right, 10 minutes from New York City), where I found the Dawn Patrol seaplane base located on the Hackensack River. The owner-operator was a veteran Navy pilot, who just a few years earlier had engaged in combat flying a torpedo bomber. His name was Cliff Umschied, and the fleet consisted of two Luscombes on floats. I was a kid and didn’t have much money at the time, but it was the beginning of a long and wonderful love affair with aviation. The lessons that my own flight training taught me stayed with me over the years until I eventually became an instructor and a designated pilot examiner.

Fast-forward to the Korean conflict that erupted in 1950. The following year, I found myself at Naval Air Station Barber’s Point on Oahu, Hawaii—about 15 air miles from Pearl Harbor—having completed several rounds of technical training, though I still wanted to fly. One day, I took a bus that made a stop at Honolulu International Airport (KHNL), now David K. Inouye International Airport, and there discovered the Hawaiian School of Aeronautics, owned and operated by a very pleasant woman whose husband at the time was a colonel fighting in Korea. Her name was Marguerite Gambo Wood, chief flight instructor and DPE. The fleet, as I recall, consisted of four Aeronca 7AC Champs, two Ercoupes and a Seabee. My instructor was June W. Johnson, a young lady probably not more than six or seven years older than I was.

June told me that her husband was a pilot for Hawaiian Airlines, then a freight carrier for the islands. We did air work over the pineapple fields—the same ones flown over by the attacking Japanese planes 10 years earlier—and pattern work mostly at Bellows Field, an abandoned World War II base on the east side of the island, not far from Kaneohe. We got by in a Champ with no electrical system at an international airport with 10,000-foot runways and four-engine traffic going on all day by using the light-gun system. We taxied out to a pad that was monitored by the tower, and when he flashed his light, we acknowledged by wagging the ailerons and elevator. Returning to the field, it was a right downwind with the ocean on our left. We watched the tower for their signal and rocked our wings to acknowledge. After just a few hours, I was signed off for solo and encouraged to go up and do stalls and spins at will.

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But by far the most challenging and memorable period for me was fulfilling the cross-country requirements. That’s what the Ercoupes were for—flying to the other islands. They had electric starters, greater fuel capacity, 75-horsepower engines and not-so-great condenser-tuned radios.

I flew the cross-country once with June and a second time alone. The flight took us from KHNL to Diamond Head at the southeastern tip of Oahu, then across the channel to Lauu Point at the western tip of Molokai, landing for a pit stop and verification signature at Molokai Airport.

Sounds simple enough, but it entails flying over what is serious open water for about 30 nautical miles in an Ercoupe with a questionable radio. Then it was off to the north coast of Molokai, a route that took us to the second required landing at Kahului Airport on Maui. The route ended with flying south to the coast of Maui, then back west to Lauu Point and home.

In the ’60s, we moved to Westchester County, New York. On weekends, I freelanced as a CFI at a small field in Duchess County (I taught my youngest son to fly on those weekends) and used nearby Westchester County Airport (KHPN) every chance I could. At 57, I left the business world and began 10 years at KHPN as a flight instructor, chief flight instructor and, for several years, designated pilot examiner for the local FSDO. I never forgot the skills I acquired over the pineapple fields on Oahu in the little Champs.

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On one of the last flight tests sent my way, a fellow instructor referred a young gentleman who had completed the private pilot training requirements. After the preliminary logbook check and oral exam, we went through the preflight and then did a couple of landings—they met the standards. We then left the pattern, and I directed my applicant to a work area nearby, telling him that we were going to do some stalls and steep turns. Now, many applicants for a flight test exhibit some nervousness, and I’ve always believed that a reasonable examiner makes allowances for that, but his reaction was quite visible.

We cleared the area, and I told him to do a gentle no-flaps stall and recover at the first sign of a break. By that time, judging by his demeanor, I’m sure he was in a sweat. I had him do a couple more clearing turns to help settle him down and then told him to do a full-flaps stall with a full break and recovery with minimum altitude loss. The result: left wing well down, controls crossed, and we were in an incipient spin. Had he been alone, he would have died. I recovered (shades of my early training in Oahu), suggested that he relax, and headed back to base.

In our discussion afterward, he told me that he hated stalls. I asked him how many stalls he had done in his training. His response: “Three.” (Mental note: Mention to the instructor the importance of completing requirements before recommending a flight test.) To the applicant’s credit, he retrained with his instructor, overcame his fear and came back to me for a retest, leaving happily with his private ticket.

When unpacking our things after the move to Westchester County, I came across a box of some old records, and sure enough, among the items was the 1951 Hawaii sectional, the very chart I used for the cross-country flights—course lines and all. Given the layout of the islands, it’s a very big sectional—a good 5 feet long and about 18 inches high. It has been framed and hangs on the wall of my “cave” over my desk. Every day, it brings back the joy I had flying in beautiful, pristine Hawaii. I was a fledging at the time, but the challenges it presented and the education it provided lasted a pilot’s lifetime.

This story appeared in the March 2021 issue of Flying Magazine

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