Today’s Top Pick is a 1955 Cessna 180 Skywagon.

The Cessna 180’s conventional landing gear and squared-off “straight” vertical fin and rudder give it a distinctive vintage silhouette that many pilots find attractive. This appeal, coupled with the aircraft’s capabilities on short strips and  off-airport travel have helped to drive up prices for the muscular taildragger.

Shopping for early models from the 1950s can be an effective way to find more affordable examples that still look great. Because the 180 was a modern, efficient design when new, it remains practical for family transport and recreation.      

The 180 helped popularize STOL flying decades ago and inspired some of the best short-field performers now available. But while we often see images of 180s on skis, hauling big game out of hunting camps in Alaska, the aircraft’s lifting capability and cruising speed make it just as well-suited for your next cross-country family vacation.  

This 1955 Cessna 180 has 4,133 hours on the airframe, 10 hours on its 230 hp Continental O-470 engine, and 190 hours since overhaul on the McCauley two-blade seaplane propeller. The aircraft has a useful load of 776 pounds and carries 55 gallons of fuel.

The panel includes a custom audio panel, King KMD 150 color moving map GPS, Icom IC-A200 760 channel LCD digital om radio, King KX 175B analog nav/comm, Garmin GTX 335 transponder with ADS-B Out, remote ELT arming panel, Alcor analog EGT, digital tachometer, CHT gauge, carb temperature gauge, and 12-volt power outlet.

Additional equipment includes Alaskan Bushwheel six-bolt wheels and brakes, BAS inertia reel shoulder harnesses, BAS tailcone lift handles, door stewards, Rosen visors, Selkirk extended baggage compartment, Atlee Dodge folding rear seats, P-Ponk landing gear reinforcements, Brackett air filter, alternator conversion, and input for ground service power.

Pilots who are interested in a classic Cessna taildragger that combines the visual charm of an antique aircraft with the practicality of a powerful engine and spacious cabin should consider this1955 Cessna 180 Skywagon, which is available for $169,000 on AircraftForSale.

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

• FLYING Magazine: One Iconic Cessna 180 Has Quite a Story to Tell
• FLYING Magazine: Hartzell Voyager Propeller Approved for Cessna 180s
• FLYING Magazine: Hartzell Scimitar Prop Approved for Cessna 180 and 182
• Plane & Pilot: Cessna 180 Skywagon

The post This 1955 Cessna 180 Is a Practical, Collectible ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Fearless when it comes to busting into places where other—often more competent—flyers and writers are reluctant to go, I decided to give it a try. After all, who has more firsthand knowledge of what happens when this very real, deep-rooted part of us is sabotaged by events such as a denied medical or insurance, a financial problem, or even something as weird as flying under a bridge? (And, no, I didn’t turn my transponder off!)

It can’t be “genetic.” After all, there were no powered airplanes until 120 years ago and, for many years after Wilbur and Orville figured it out in 1903, few people flew or owned one. Then, beginning with ex-World War I flyers who became the daredevil barnstormers and mail pilots of the 1920s and ’30s and feats of Lindbergh, Earhart, Post, and other household names, publicity and interest grew. In the years following World War II, a bunch of “little” airplanes appeared that were simple enough that almost anybody could learn to fly. And aviation was more accessible, affordable, and hugely popular.

Sporty’s Pilot Shop founder Hal Shevers told me one time, “Marf, we lived through the ‘Golden Era of General Aviation.’” And he was right. The 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s were the glory days before airplane prices exploded—as did tomes of onerous regulations and complex airspace restrictions—and insurance requirements, maintenance costs, and manufacturer liability issues mushroomed. Sadly, it was those liability issues and an unacceptable accident rate that began to choke private and small business aviation in the ’80s and ’90s.

But the die-hards stayed with it, forming flying clubs and partnerships, buying and renovating old airplanes, or building experimental models themselves. It was costly, but their obsession made them find a way.

• READ MORE: Let Me Tell You About Tom

Now there’s a desperate need for pilots. With that comes the danger of “enticing” applicants who lack the deep-seated desire and passion but are beguiled by the salaries and prestige that go with being an airline pilot. Flight training schools and universities are eager to enroll students who qualify for generous scholarships— some from the airlines themselves. Others are attracted by the ease of borrowing huge sums to complete “fast-track” training with the promise of an interview and likely a job in the right seat of an airliner. What isn’t advertised is that flight training dropout statistics average 80 percent.

A genuine interest in and aptitude for flying airplanes is a huge blessing for those becoming professional pilots. Despite the growing need for more pilots, it is vital that airline companies don’t lower hiring standards—as has been accused—and put marginally qualified new hires in their cockpits by maybe thinking experience will “fix” the problem.

Flight schools advertise that you’re guaranteed an airline interview by successfully completing their “fast-track” programs. They’ll guide you through the process of logging 1,500 hours of flight and simulator time. Simply sign up, pay something close to $100,000, pass an FAA medical, get a student certificate, and take the dual for solo and solo cross-country signoffs. You’ll learn enough in ground schools to pass the FAA knowledge exams and log enough time and have the skill to pass a private pilot check ride. Ditto for the instrument, commercial, multiengine, and CFI certificates and ratings. And they assure you this can be accomplished in “only seven months.” Then you instruct for the school, earning between $15 and $50 per hour until you accumulate the necessary 1,500 (or, in some cases, 1,200) hours to apply for the right seat with an air carrier. All this is possible in two to three years with no guarantee of actually being hired…and not living in your parents’ basement.

One major carrier has pledged that 50 percent of its new hires will be “people of color and females.” Its program offers scholarships from the Latino Pilots Association, National Gay Pilots Association, Organization of Black Aerospace Professionals, Professional Asian Pilots Association, Sisters of the Skies, and Women in Aviation International. It is hoped that making the training available inspires young people—regardless of sex, color, ethnicity, people who may never have had the opportunity to learn about aviation—to embrace the training. That’s laudable, so long as it doesn’t exclude anyone.

A retired airline pilot friend commented: “Anyone who remembers the Colgan [Air] crash at KBUF [Buffalo, New York, in 2009] should understand the significance of airlines hiring qualified pilots. That accident was a ‘perfect storm’ of pilot incompetence, management failure, weather, and other factors causing the deaths of a planeload of people. Aviation is inherently dangerous, and when incompetent pilots are given the controls of an aircraft filled with people, the situation becomes an accident waiting to happen.”

Here’s a poignant quote from an article in FLYING Magazine in July 1953: “Ten-thousand articles have been written about the ebb of aviation enthusiasm and activity in the land. Apathy to aviation is just one of many indications that 20 years’ education that ‘the world owes me a living’ has wrought havoc with our individual spirits. We babble about Social Security and prate in terms of masses and promise ‘extended benefits.’ …It means we’ve had a flameout of the fire that molded us and gave us power. We’ve stopped running to meet life because that takes faith and courage and pride.”

It was written by no less a personage than Gill Robb Wilson, one of the magazine’s founders and editors, and a World War I combat pilot in France, devoted patriot, founder of the Civil Air Patrol, writer, and poet (and, curiously, a Presbyterian minister). I think his comments apply to young men and women today who look upon aviation training and airline flying as a quick road to success, prestige, and security.

I recently took Theo, a neighborhood kid, up in the Cessna 180 because he’s crazy about aviation and airplanes. Theo is intelligent and amazingly knowledgeable because he reads everything in sight about airplanes and pilots. He’s just beginning high school but, when I asked him if he’d thought about college, he named a large “degree plus aviation training mill” in Florida. I suggested maybe he think about a degree in engineering, business, or whatever at a good college while learning to fly “the old-fashioned way” and then instructing to learn and build time. He’s wired for an airline career, and he’ll make it—with the passion for it well in place.

This column first appeared in the November 2023/Issue 943 of FLYING’s print edition.

The post Need for Pilots Should Not Take the Place of Passion appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Early in training, I made a night instrument takeoff from Lunken Airport (now KLUK) in Ohio, using a runway adjacent to a hillside with traffic on a busy highway at the base and well-lit neighborhoods climbing the slope. I unearthed a hood that was extra wide and allowed me to cheat a little with a glimpse of terrain on the sides. What seemed like a great idea was a bad mistake and an excellent lesson in vertigo. As I began to climb, I was almost hypnotized—totally confused—by moving lights I could see under the left side of the hood. I’m pretty sure we would have flown into the hill if Roger hadn’t taken the controls…and, yes, smacked me on the head.

The test presented some challenges—in night training I hadn’t experienced the turbulence of sunny, hot afternoons. Inspector Ropp and I weren’t using headsets and, unfortunately, he’d eaten something with lots of garlic the night before. On the plus side, it was pretty simple since I had one VOR receiver for approaches and holds. And, yes, I passed!

No, wait, that was the test in 1967.

In those days, the normal progression of certificates and ratings took you from private pilot to commercial, to flight instructor, and then you went on for an instrument rating. It was five years from the time I became a genuine private pilot in 1962 to accumulate the time and pass the writtens and flight tests for the commercial certificate and a flight instructor rating. And getting that CFI was critical because the only way I could eat regularly and earn enough to keep flying was to instruct. And, boy, did I instruct…about 6,000 hours total over the next 10 years.

First, I worked part time for Cincinnati Aircraft, a Cessna dealer. The Cessna 150s and 172s were great trainers but had the world’s worst radios—the Cessna 300 series. We reentered traffic patterns on lights nearly as often as we did communicating over the radio waves with the tower. When the Midwest winter was grounding the airplanes, owner Witham Smith demanded those of us with instrument ratings file IFR, climb above the overcast, give an hour of basic dual, make a VOR approach into Greater Cincinnati Airport (KCVG), and then fly VFR underneath the 13 miles back to Lunken. At best, an “hour” of dual was closer to two. I “declined,” got fired, instructed for Johnny Lane at Lebanon (I68), and then started my own flight school.

Well, fast-forward 56 years and here I am back at it again. During the year of enforced downtime after the “bridge” revocation, I crammed and passed the private and (wickedly brutal) instrument writtens. Then, on Christmas Eve 2021, I did the private practical in a Cessna 150. So, I assumed getting the instrument rating in my Cessna 180 would be a piece of cake. Wrong again.

• READ MORE: Martha Lunken Earns Her Wings (Again)

At risk of boring you with a lengthy tale of woe, it was another year before the airplane and I felt the sprinkle of holy water. I sat out a lengthy annual inspection in January and February and miserable weather during the Midwest’s February and March. But late in March 2022, I hooked up with Steve Reinhardt, a CFI who is consummately patient and intimately familiar with my Garmin GNS 430 (about which I knew little more than “direct-to”) and ForeFlight (which was a total mystery). Best of all, Steve doesn’t hit students on the head. Then my elderly DG failed, so I put 72B in the shop for installation of two flush-mounted Garmin G5s. Three weeks passed, and I was struggling to learn the equipment while precisely hand flying my “very light on the controls” 1956 Cessna 180. And the various intricate approaches and holds were at airports about 10 miles apart—it was a bitch!

Next, a guy ran into the tail of the 180 on the ground at Lebanon, and it would be close to a month until we got the vertical stabilizer and rudder back from Williams Airmotive in northern Indiana. They’re great people with an outstanding shop for control surfaces. At one point, a very special guy named Dean Mallory, who hangs out at Waynesville’s Red Stewart Airfield (40I), offered me the use of his Cessna 182. Talk about friends!

But the delay wasn’t only damage, avionics installations, and weather. It was a steep learning curve for me to master the intricacies of the Garmin equipment and ForeFlight. More than once, I nearly lost heart.

GPS technology wasn’t intuitive for me. Thermals on sunny days below 4,000 feet made for lots of turbulence, and the variety of approach procedures and holds mandated by the FAA at three or four airports within 10 miles of each other was difficult. I was scrambling to enter the information and push the right buttons while trying to hand fly the 180 precisely on altitudes and headings.

Yeah, I did it, and Steve recommended me one month short of my 81st birthday, and I flew a no-holds-barred, good practical test with Brian Trapp at John Lane Field (I68) in Lebanon, Ohio. Brian holds more designations than anyone in my experience and travels across the country—even to remote places like the Fiji islands—as an examiner, administering everything from medical check rides to re-exams and every conceivable airplane and lighter-than-air certificate or rating. Additionally, he owns and operates the Gentle Breeze Hot Air Balloon Co. with his talented and delightful pilot/partner, Laurie Givin. Brian knows his stuff, cutting no corners on the test.

Was so much time, effort, and expense worth it. Yes! Steve pounded the intricacies of the GPS equipment and procedures into my head, and I became more adept at precision flying in the 180. So many people kept me going—superb instructor Reinhardt, Mallory (“Hey, use my airplane.”), Flying Neutrons Club members at I68 (many of whom I’d certificated), IA mechanic Mark Day, and Givin, and Trapp, who flew in late the night before from Phoenix for the test.

As Henry Ford rightly said, “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t—you’re right.”

This column first appeared in the October 2023/Issue 942 of FLYING’s print edition.

The post Martha’s Return to IFR Skies appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Last week, I decided to risk all of this happiness, satisfaction, and contentment by going up for a flight with my friend Marty in his newly purchased Cessna 180. 

Every technical aspect of the 180 is objectively better than my 170. It has nearly 100 additional horsepower, harnessed by a constant-speed propeller. While the two have similar useful loads, the 180 shrugs off a heavy payload and continues to perform well at maximum takeoff weight. The 180 cruises 40 mph faster with a far greater range.

Translating these advantages to everyday benefits, a 180 owner can laugh at density altitudes, departure-end obstacles, and cargo manifests that would stop a 170 owner in their tracks. The additional power and lifting capacity more easily enables the installation of floats. Multiple friends can join you for flights, and once inside, they’ll enjoy more space. 
All of these things swirled around my mind as we drove to the airport for a crisp autumn morning of taking in the changing colors. Would this be a massive mistake? Would the 180 ruin me, relegating my beloved 170 to the halls of aviation inferiority? Would I soon be listing my airplane on Aircraft For Sale and scouring the listings for a 180 of my own?

It was a dangerous thing to do. But the fall colors were bursting in western Michigan, and I’d been looking forward to flying with Marty for months. I’d just have to risk whatever effects the 180 might produce in my mind.

Marty got very lucky when he found it. Based out west and owned by the same people for decades, it had been babied for its entire life. It may have been built in 1955, but its condition made it feel like a brand-new airplane. 

Climbing up into the passenger seat, it was at once different and familiar. Forward visibility was more restricted than my 170, but almost no taildraggers can top the 170 in that regard. The cabin was a touch roomier. And although the panel was immaculate, it was also dated and couldn’t hold a candle to my newly updated Garmin panel. The panel comparison is perhaps unfair, however, and I’m sure Marty will close that gap soon enough with some upgrades.

The real comparison would occur when the engine was turning—and when it did, the additional size and power were apparent even at idle. After a quick run-up and short taxi, Marty explained his takeoff procedure. After lining up on the runway, he advances the throttle to 1,500 rpm, lets the airplane stabilize during mild acceleration, and then smoothly advances the throttle the rest of the way while adding the necessary right rudder to maintain centerline.

Marty is no stranger to taildraggers. He’s flown multiple types and has, for the past several years, owned a Piper Colt taildragger. That little airplane lacked power nearly to the degree that it lacked stability during takeoff and landing. The short-coupled airframe demanded lightning-quick reflexes to keep the tail in line and never allowed you to relax, even in calm winds. 

Nevertheless, Marty explained, the massive left-turning tendencies from the big 180’s engine and prop were significant and altogether different. He exercised appropriate caution and assertiveness on the controls, and before I knew it, we were off the ground—in roughly half the distance required by my 170. The departure end trees that would, in my airplane, have commanded my undivided attention were falling away comically.

Just a few moments after takeoff, Marty did something entirely foreign to my 145-horsepower world. He reduced power during the climb. I’ve done this in other types, but it still caused a small fuse to blow somewhere in my brain. In my airplane, one wrings out every last bit of thrust possible until it’s time to level off. 

The flight itself was fantastic. Mid-October in Michigan is a sight to behold, the vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows below igniting like a massive bed of flames. There was even an occasional whiff of wood smoke wafting up from chimneys below. It was a day to be seized, and we were doing just that.

When Marty throttled further back for cruise, I found myself wishing he had a good engine monitor. From what I could tell, we were cruising at around 120 mph at a very low power setting and rpm. Later, some research confirmed that, provided one can exercise the necessary restraint, a 180 throttled back can return the same speeds and fuel burns as a 170. It’s like owning two airplanes in one.

We gamboled about the countryside, popping into a few grass strips and ogling palatial hangar homes. Despite having been flying the airplane for several months, Marty remained smitten with the performance of his new machine. He and I both laughed at the absurdly short ground roll and impressive rate of climb during every takeoff.

Marty flew the final approach at about the same speed I use for my 170. A later examination of the manual revealed that the 180’s stall speed is only 54 mph—just 2 mph higher than mine. And although I didn’t land the 180, the sight picture and feel of the main gear seemed very similar from the passenger seat. 

On the way back, we made a game of spotting uncharted grass strips and noting their precise location for future reference. The phone numbers of the airstrip owners are easy to find, after all. Some of the lovely strips perhaps warrant a friendly call to ascertain whether visitors might be welcome in the future. 

After arriving back home, Marty took up a neighbor for a ride, and I had some time to reflect on the experience. As expected, the 180 was indeed objectively better in just about every measure of performance. And with the ability to throttle back to 170 levels of speed and fuel burn, it was truly two airplanes in one.

But as is so often the case, taking a step back and looking at the whole picture properly calibrates one’s perspective. Unseen from the cockpit are the 180’s 200 to 300 percent higher purchase price and steeper insurance premiums, which amount to an additional $100 to 150 per month above my own. It might be possible to throttle back to save fuel, but there’s just no getting around certain expenses.

Then, there are my favorite factors to consider—the ones that don’t show up on a spreadsheet. To me, the most notable pro in this category was the complete freedom to comfortably get out of almost any airstrip out there. And the most notable cons were the far heavier weight of the controls and the reduced over-the-nose visibility on the ground. While not easily quantifiable, these sorts of factors are entirely worthy of consideration when evaluating an airplane.

In the end, I arrived at the same conclusion that I tend to in my head-to-head aircraft reviews. It’s not really about identifying a winner and a loser. It’s about matching one’s personal preferences and situation to the airplane that best matches them. And, in my case, the benefits of my 170 easily make up for the areas in which it falls short in comparison to the mighty 180. 

As mentioned earlier, I love the fingertip control forces of my airplane. I love its forward visibility and docile nature. And I love that its lower acquisition and fixed costs enable me to own it at all. Much as I admire Marty’s new 180, I recognize that it’s a far better fit for his particular mission requirements than it would be for mine. 

And with that, I made my way back home not with envy for the technically superior airplane but with gratitude for my own. 

The post Love the One You’re With appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

According to the Alaska State Troopers, Tweto, 68 of Unalakleet, Alaska, and passenger Shane Reynolds, age 45 of Orofino, Idaho, were attempting to take off in Tweto’s Cessna 180 around noon, but according to witnesses, the aircraft failed to climb.

Troopers were alerted to the accident through an SOS activation from a Garmin InReach device around 11:48 a.m.

Tweto became well-known in the early 2010 as the star of the documentary series “Flying Wild Alaska” on the Discovery channel.

“Flying Wild Alaska” aired for three seasons. It featured Tweto, his wife and three daughters, and their day-to-day life operating Era Alaska, a small regional airline serving the remote communities of Alaska.

The National Transportation Safety Board is investigating the accident.

The post ‘Flying Wild Alaska’ Pilot Jim Tweto Dies in Accident appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

During a webinar hosted by the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA), Van’s Vice President Greg Hughes was accompanied by the company’s test pilot and multiple engineers to provide an overview of the airplane’s design, flight characteristics, and progress toward production. Following the main presentation, the group fielded questions from webinar attendees.

The company emphasized that the design is not final and that various aspects are still being changed as opportunities for improvement are discovered. Nevertheless, Van’s provided a detailed overview to attendees, complete with photos, diagrams, and video footage.

Overall Design

Van’s confirmed that the RV-15 will be a two-place backcountry airplane with a large baggage compartment behind occupants. During the design phase, engineers built a wooden cabin mockup to evaluate interior dimensions and discovered that the limited height of the aft cabin would be insufficient for adults. Additionally, the company’s research found that the vast majority of backcountry pilots fly almost exclusively alone or with only one passenger. 

The team also discovered that target customers value the ability to transport a large amount of gear in their aircraft. Accordingly, Van’s presented the RV-15 as a solution to not only access the backcountry but to bring along the gear and equipment most often utilized by backcountry enthusiasts. The targets of a minimum 900-pound useful load and 200-pound baggage capacity remain unchanged from initial figures.

• READ MORE: Van’s Aircraft Celebrates 50th Anniversary With a High-Wing Design

While the airplane is being designed and optimized as a tailwheel, Van’s confirmed it will eventually be offered in tricycle-gear configuration. This will position the type as a potential solution for flight schools looking for a primary trainer. The airplane will also be compatible with floats and skis, with special attention paid to simplifying the transition between wheels and floats. 

Van’s opted not to introduce aerobatic capability to the RV-15, reasoning that doing so would compromise the mission of the airplane. A ballistic parachute is planned as an option.

Wing, Tail

The RV-15 utilizes a modified version of the NACA 23000-series airfoil utilized in most other Van’s aircraft. This, engineers explained, enables the airplane to retain much of the same feel and handling qualities of existing models while optimizing it for an altogether different flight envelope. Because the RV-15 is designed to be a backcountry airplane with good STOL performance, special attention has been given to the low-speed characteristics, and the airfoil modifications are primarily aimed at softening the relatively abrupt stall break inherent in the standard airfoil. 

Much of the low-speed performance comes from the large-span Fowler flaps. While the maximum flap setting is listed as 50 degrees, this is being evaluated and may change. At 50 degrees, no issues have thus far been noted with regard to the flaps affecting pitch control, even in slips. 

Part of the reason for this is the company’s choice to use a stabilator rather than an elevator. The all-moving horizontal surface provides greater pitch authority than an elevator-equipped horizontal stabilizer while also expanding the allowable center of gravity range. 

Van’s opted to use a strut-braced wing for the RV-15, explaining that a strutless cantilever wing would have been unacceptably heavy. Additionally, the wing struts provide a useful means of pushing and pulling the airplane around on the ground. This will be of particular value when moving the airplane over some of the more challenging surfaces a pilot might encounter off-airport, such as tall grass and mud.

Fuel capacity will increase from the current 50 gallons to 60 gallons for production kits, helping to maintain range with larger engines. To enable refueling without a ladder, fuel caps will move farther inboard, making them more easily accessible while standing on the wheel struts.

Engine

The RV-15 engineering prototype utilizes a 215 hp Lycoming IO-390-EXP119 and an 80-inch Hartzell Trailblazer propeller. The airplane was intentionally designed to be able to accept a variety of engines, from 180 to 220 hp. In addition to increasing the overall number of options for builders, Van’s pointed out that this flexibility enables a builder to install a used engine—such as the Lycoming O-360A1A—thus lowering the total aircraft price substantially.

Landing Gear

The RV-15’s clean-sheet landing gear design is perhaps the most revolutionary aspect of the airplane. Equipped with air-sprung, oil-damped suspension all around, the gear provides good control on uneven surfaces while softening firm landings.

With 7 inches of suspension travel at the main gear axles and 4.5 inches of travel at the tailwheel, the suspension should soak up even the most massive hits. Indeed, Van’s claims their design provides more cushion than 31-inch tundra tires with standard landing gear designs. Unlike big tires and spring-steel landing gear, the oil-damped shocks should provide a slow, controlled rebound with little tendency to bounce.

Anticipating regular trips to remote destinations, Van’s utilized two shocks for each main gear leg. If one should fail, the remaining shock will enable a return home for service.

The tailwheel is similarly advanced. Utilizing a four-bar linkage, the caster angle is adjustable and remains constant throughout the range of suspension travel. A video shown in the webinar shows the tailwheel resisting lateral flex during spirited ground maneuvering and extending in a slow, controlled manner after liftoff. 

The prototype’s gear design is being refined to be simpler, lighter, and less expensive to produce. Additionally, the main gear will be lengthened by one inch to provide additional propeller clearance. The additional clearance will enable floatplane pilots to leave 82-inch props in place when removing floats and installing wheels. 

Cabin

Van’s engineers focused on maximizing interior space for both occupants and cargo in the baggage area. Occupants are provided with side-by-side seating and floor-mounted control sticks that incorporate forward bends to ease ingress and egress. When paired with cutouts in production seats, these bends will also allow the seats to slide as far forward as possible, easing the loading and unloading of outsized cargo through the main doors.

A left-side aft baggage door will be standard. Again anticipating recreational trips to remote locations, engineers ensured the baggage door will swallow everything from generators to full-sized coolers to a pair of full-sized mountain bikes, provided their front wheels are removed. One engineer even confirmed the baggage door is dog compatible, reporting no issues with his dog while using it for boarding and deplaning. 

Although the RV-15 engineering prototype already boasts more cabin width than a Cessna 180, the fuselage is being modified to further increase knee and leg room. Van’s 5-foot, 11-inch tall test pilot reports sufficient space and comfort, as well as good outward visibility. For production airplanes, the engine will be moved slightly downward to further improve forward visibility.

Because the wing will be moved slightly aft on production RV-15s, production versions will utilize a floor-mounted flap lever as opposed to the prototype’s overhead lever. Concerned about having to lean down and forward to reach the lever as in Cessna 170s and 180s, Van’s ensured the RV-15’s seats were positioned close enough to the cabin floor to keep the flap lever within easy reach.

Performance

Van’s R&D engineer and test pilot Axel Alvarez provided a detailed account of the prototype’s performance thus far. Under no-wind conditions at a sea-level density altitude with 30 gallons of fuel and 110 pounds of ballast aboard, he reported a takeoff ground roll of 225 to 230 feet, taking approximately 5 seconds to lift off. The subsequent climb returned a climb rate of 2,000 to 2,200 fpm with an indicated deck angle of 20 to 21 degrees while maintaining 65 knots.

Van’s didn’t mention cruise speeds, but Alvarez reported a 150-foot landing roll on asphalt when utilizing a three-point landing technique and small six-inch tires. Perhaps most impressive, he reported that even when “smoking” the tires under heavy braking, there was “absolutely no nose-over tendency with the stick all the way aft.” 

Delivery and Pricing

At EAA Airventure 2022, Van’s reported that the RV-15 kit would be available in mid to late 2023. The company confirmed they are still on track to meet that timeline and said the order book would be opened when they have more confidence regarding kit delivery schedules. The company expects wing kits to be the first kits to become available, followed by tail, fuselage, and others. Van’s does not expect the RV-15 program to impact the manufacturing or delivery of current aircraft kits.

• READ MORE: Van’s RV-15 Attracts a Crowd at Oshkosh

Pricing for the RV-15 has not yet been determined. But when asked for an estimate, Van’s said the pricing will be below that of the RV-10, which ranges from $61,350 for a standard kit and $80,850 for a QuickBuild kit. Addressing the question of whether the RV-15 might cost as much as an RV-14 kit which ranges from $43,200 to $64,700, the company responded, “Possibly.”

The post Van’s RV-15 Prototype Progressing Through Development appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

A couple of weeks after the examiner gave me that wonderful gift on Christmas Eve last year and I was back to being a genuine, certified, legal, private pilot, my Cessna 180 went into the shop for annual inspection. It began in mid-January and dragged on well into February, but no problem—the weather was pretty gruesome around here, and I can’t yet do any cloud aviatin’. Come March, and I was flying the wings off 72B in spite of an unusually stormy, wet spring in the Midwest. I was nearing the point where I could again hand-fly my auto-pilot-less airplane under the hood while manipulating ForeFlight and a WAAS-enabled Garmin GNS 430 in preparation for the instrument practical test.

It was a glorious morning in early May, when I flew the 180 up the road to Lebanon’s Warren County Airport (I68). I think most of us critique ourselves after every flight, usually finding something we could have done better. But this, albeit short flight, was flat-out perfect. I pushed the right buttons, twisted the right knobs, flew a perfect RNAV approach, and even ended with one of those rare “squeaker” landings when you’re not sure if you’re really on the ground. (And there haven’t been many of those lately.)

Lebanon was pretty quiet, so after talking to Mark Day—he’s a technician with inspection authorization, or IA—and avionics guru Pete York about an avionics installation, I cranked up to head home. Sitting in the runup area and fiddling with the 430, I suddenly felt a considerable jolt and heard a big thud. Was it a blown tire…a humongous vulture…an earthquake? Maybe an FAA special operations agent trying to keep me away from bridges? Whatever, I shut down and climbed out to see the left wing of a Smith Miniplane embedded in my rudder.

Naturally, my first thought was, “Well, at least I didn’t cause this one.” A cursory look had me hoping the Miniplane driver just dented my rudder. But a closer look showed the whole tail bent and ominous wrinkles in the vertical stabilizer. My tail (this time the metal one) was back in trouble.

The other pilot knew me and was hugely embarrassed and upset. He’s a good guy but was taxiing too fast and not S-turning, so he simply never saw me sitting there. The damage to his airplane seemed limited to a considerable, but fixable dent in his left wing. He was so upset I put my arm around him (stifling the urge to squeeze really tight) and said it wasn’t the end of the world (well, not quite), so be thankful that nobody was hurt, take some deep breaths, and calm down. 

After Mark Day came out and took a look, he confirmed I wasn’t going anywhere. But where would I rather be than here at his shop? We got it in a hangar and the consensus was that calling the FAA was a bad idea. “Heck, nobody is going to say anything.” I agreed that calling the FAA was ugly, but I also knew that within hours, the news would be all over the Midwest. And the damage did seem to be “substantial” so I made the call…or tried to. Evidently, the FAA doesn’t answer telephones these days; you just leave a message, and if your government is at work, I guess it’s from home.

Fast forward to Sunday—four days later—waiting for some word from the Miniplane’s insurance adjustor, and driving home from Mass, I hit the world’s biggest pothole in a city (Cincinnati) that holds the world record for potholes. My little Beemer nearly disappeared, and it took a tow, two weeks, and $7,500 to straighten out the front end. 

Still trying to build a fire under the well-known aviation insurance company to move on the 180 damage, Mark took the tail off, and a friend trucked it to Williams Airframe Components in Kendallville, Indiana. Airframe expert Nathan Whetzel said they were working five weeks out. But sobbing over the phone and sending a big jar of chocolate-covered peanuts seemed to motivate them.

Well, two “events,” but I’m not superstitious about bad things happening in threes. Wrong! Some wonderful friends offered their Cessna 182s for my IFR prep, but I decided to wait on 72B and treated myself to a Cub fix at Stewart’s Field in Waynesville. It was a perfect Cub morning with puffy white clouds dotting a blue, blue sky over the green, green farm fields of southern Ohio. After a few landings, I left the pattern for some “contour flying” and a few whifferdills. Of course, the door and window were open but I’d forgotten about the iPad mini I’d tucked under my leg. Something felt wrong, and after a thorough search of the Cub, I uttered a string of unrepeatable words, realizing that the iPad was in somebody’s corn or soybean field.

Dumb? Well, yes, since I should have had it strapped securely to my leg. But the bigger question is, what kind of a jerk takes an iPad to track with ForeFlight when flying a Cub? I deserved to lose the damned thing.

I knew I could pinpoint the location where the skydiving iPad landed but decided against it; it was likely shattered, and from my FAA days working with crop dusters in Illinois, I knew the chemicals in fertilizers and insecticides could be deadly.

Besides, I like to think about the speculation of anthropologists or archeologists 2,000 years from now when they unearth this strange gadget in an area where the Mound Builders, and later, Tecumseh and the Shawnees roamed.

I can picture their astonishment when they uncover the strange little device which seems to prove ancient people flew airplanes and shopped on something called Amazon.

The post Why Me, Lord? appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Why? Well, it’s old and has centerline drainage but, most importantly, it’s too close to a row of corporate hangars full of jets—used for both business and privately owned. I don’t know if FAA standards have changed or if they are just being enforced, but I do know that some of these “big operators” have expansion plans and there’s nowhere to go except into the runway’s safety area. The reality is, with 21R gone, accommodating traffic from three busy flight schools with a steady stream of “big iron” on a single runway is going to be a challenge…or, as one controller opined, “It sucks.”

You may have guessed by now that occasionally I don’t see things the same way as the FAA, but this edict seems exceptionally onerous. It reduces a heavily used airport, with three (at one time four) runways, to the single 6,500-foot, fully IFR-equipped 21L-03R. Oh, there is one other “old-timer”—Runway 25—still in use but restricted to aircraft under 12,500 pounds. It’s further limited because its final approach conflicts with the 21L final, and speculation is that it too is on the way out.

Everybody who flies in the Midwest knows that after a cold front steamrolls through the Ohio Valley, the normal south-southwest surface winds typically shift around to north-northwest and landing on 21L demands significant crosswind capabilities and pilot skills. And, with “Sunken Lunken” in a valley surrounded by hills, the turbulence approaching that runway can be awesome. (I confess that not too long ago, after waging an interesting battle with a turbulent crosswind in my Cessna 180, the tower asked, “Martha, are you OK?”) When these winds reach the edge of max crosswind capability for large turbine airplanes, they’re relegated to using Greater Cincinnati (KCVG) some 12 miles away across the Ohio River in Kentucky. This is generally not popular with corporate executives or passengers.

READ MORE: Unusual Attitudes

Maybe I’m just being old-fashioned or, as I get older, change is becoming more difficult to accept. And old memories die hard, like when you find out your old grade school has been demolished or your childhood neighborhood has become a slum, when you find yourself mourning the loss of an old lover…or even a runway (not to mention an airport).

I took my first hour of instruction and gave my first hour of dual on what was back then Runway 20 (because magnetic orientation changes over the years). And many, many times I would surprise a student by saying, “Hey. I’m tired of grinding around this traffic pattern with you. Let me out here, tell the tower you need to taxi back, and make three takeoffs and landings by yourself. And, REMEMBER, you’re going to be high on final!” Of course, this had been coordinated with the tower (and couldn’t happen like that these days), but I’d hop out and sit in the grass alongside the runway, making daisy chains or chewing on a piece of clover while my student made those first glorious three solo takeoffs and landings. Now, I was way across the airport from my flying school and, after his full stop landing, the tower took great delight in clearing the student back to the hangar. He was usually so excited he’d forget about me. So I’d climb the tower steps and use their phone to get somebody to come pick me up.

Runway 21R was the scene of my introduction to ground loops. A group of guys (one of them a CFI who knew how to fly taildraggers) bought an Aeronca 7AC and called themselves the Kamikaze Flying Club. Frank was a little sweet on me and anxious to show his prowess so we went flying in the little yellow airplane with the famous shark’s mouth painted on the nose. Taxiing back to the tiedown, things suddenly began to spin—I saw grass, the taxiway behind us, the tower, and some hangars. It was fun so I laughed and said, “Oh Frank, do it again!” He glowered at me and said, “Shut up! That was a ground loop.” No damage, except to this future airline pilot’s pride.

Another afternoon, when the winds were strong and steady, blowing right down the runway, Mike Smith and I were out in one of Cincinnati Aircraft’s Champs. (Mike’s father, Bud Smith, owned the operation so “rental” was no problem.) Out on final, he was able to slow the airplane to the edge of a stall…and it stopped! We were stationary over the golf course. After clearing us to land two or three times, the controller—who had little sense of humor—told us to LAND or go somewhere else.

The Procter and Gamble flight department had occupied with a fleet of Douglas DC-3s the old Aeronca hangar at the end of 20L since 1950. They’d even designed an ingenious “track” to turn their airplanes sideways on the ramp and winch them into the hangar. Well, the ’60s brought the Gulfstream I, and the only way they’d fit was to raise the hangar roof. P&G being P&G, thought raising the roof and obstructing the tower’s view of the approach end of the 20L was no problem. The city just displaced the threshold of 21R by a considerable 900 feet.

Then the city constructed a wide taxiway for the Gulfstreams crossing at that unusable end and put in a narrow blacktop one for the little guys taking off at the new threshold. It was less than adequate—too narrow to even turn into the wind for runup. That was the impetus for a midnight (after the tower closed) expedition out to the new “corporate” taxiway on our bicycles with cans of traffic paint, graph paper, and measuring tapes. In honor of the notoriously pompous flight department manager who exerted considerable “juice” with the city, we spent all night painting, in large letters: THE NELSON U. ROKES MEMORIAL TAXIWAY.

Nobody knew who did it but, kind of surprisingly, both the company pilots and Nelson loved it. For years, the tower commonly cleared airplanes to their hangar, “via the memorial!”

It was a different time, and I have to accept today’s 8-foot fences and security cameras as the norm—obsolete runways and all those tempting bridges have to go. But, oh, how I miss those days.

The post Thoughts on Closing a Runway appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

The Ohio-based company has received the supplemental type certificate for the Cessna 180 powered by Continental O-470-As of serial numbers 41,000 and higher.

The Voyager was previously approved for other Cessna 180/182/185/206 models powered by the Continental -520 and -550 engines.

The Voyager propeller features scimitar aluminum blades for optimal performance, including increased takeoff acceleration and exceptional climb rate, while offering the same or better cruise speeds. The prop is positioned specifically for backcountry aircraft.

The propeller can be obtained by contacting Hartzell Propeller or one of its recommended service facilities. The Voyager propeller is being sold as part of Hartzell’s Top Prop Performance Conversions line.

According to J.J. Frigge, president of Hartzell Propeller, the Voyager model was introduced in 2019 and its continued growth in popularity inspired the propeller manufacturer to seek more applications—and taking it to the backcountry was a natural fit.

“We are also excited to partner with the Recreational Aviation Foundation (RAF) to offer its members a $1,000 discount on the regular price of Voyager props from now until the end of 2023,” Frigge said.

“The Voyager is a real tribute to Hartzell Propeller’s commitment to backcountry pilots,” said RAF’s chairman, John J. McKenna, Jr. “It shows that they are paying attention to what the market is looking for, they hear what we’re saying, and they understand. Hartzell really hit the nail on the head with this one. I’ve had a number of different propellers on my 185, and the Voyager has outperformed them in all quadrants. Not to mention, it’s a great looking propeller.”

Hartzell Helps Protect Backcountry Strips

When a member of the RAF organization buys the Voyager, Hartzell Propeller is making a $250 contribution directly to the RAF organization. The mission of the non-profit RAF is to preserve, maintain and create public-use recreational airstrips for backcountry access throughout the United States. The donation program is in place until the end of 2023.

Hartzell History

Hartzell Aviation was founded in 1917 and since then has expanded beyond propeller technology. The company’s flagship company is Hartzell Propeller, the global leader in advanced technology aircraft propeller design and manufacturing for business, commercial, and government customers. Hartzell designs next-generation propellers with innovative blended airfoil technology and manufactures them with revolutionary machining centers, robotics, and custom resin transfer molding curing stations.

The post Hartzell Voyager Propeller Approved for Cessna 180s appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

• READ MORE: How To Get to the Sequatchie Valley by Airplane

Modern: ICON A5

In the air, the ICON A5 shows off a carbon-fiber design with truly docile low-speed handling characteristics, and serious stall and spin resistance. The A5 cruises at 85 knots indicated airspeed—and you can fly with the windows removed at 75 kias. It’s powered by a fuel-injected, 100 hp Rotax 912.

When it’s time to land, the 1,510-pound light sport aircraft gives the pilot two options: pavement or water. On dry land, the A5 uses a tricycle-gear configuration with a castering nosewheel. For a water landing, the A5’s gear tucks up into the hull—there are no struts or sponsons to mar its clean lines.

In front of the pilot and passenger lies the brains of the A5, with a couple of options. The A5 transitioned from a Garmin aera 796 multifunction display and GPS to a Garmin 3X Touch in 2021. The 3X Touch gives owners the chance to add a two-axis autopilot. It also comes standard with ICON’s ballistic airframe parachute system (IPS) and an angle-of-attack indicator. The A5 makes an ideal modern amphib platform.

Classic: Lake LA-250 Renegade

Because Lake Aircraft (under various owners) has delivered more than 1,300 aircraft over its 70-year history, pilots conjure up its silhouette when they think of the word “seaplane.” With a center-mounted Lycoming IO-540 engine (in 250 hp or a turbocharged 270 hp version) and twin sponsons, the Renegade, introduced in 1982, follows in the footsteps of the 1950s-era Buccaneer.

• READ MORE: The Sequatchie Valley Offers a Wonderland for Flying Adventures

The Renegade weighs 3,050 pounds at max gross, with a useful load of more than 1,000 pounds, depending on the engine. With seats for up to six people, you can take more friends or family along on the adventure with you. It’s a capable amphib all around, with the ability to fly IFR and a range of up to 1,036 nm, running at around 132 kias.

The company’s assets are up for sale, including the type certificate, but the classic amphib—available on the used market—offers flexibility for pilots who want to go further and faster before they splash down.

Utility: Cessna 180 Series on Floats

If your adventure in the Sequatchie Valley involves outdoor pursuits, such as rock climbing, camping, or fishing, you might consider the workhorse of the outback: the Cessna 180 series of airframes on floats.

Fitted with Wipaire’s Wipline Model 3000 floats, the Cessna 180 series can haul quite a bit of people and gear, and it retains the easy in-flight handling characteristics of those Cessna models, the 180, 182, and 185, depending on which model you find in this varying marketplace.

You can also adapt your airframe to floats, though not all models can make the transition. In the process, you may be able to upgrade with a Kenmore supplemental type certificate (STC) offering a gross weight increase to 3,190 pounds, augmenting useful load by about 240 pounds.

This article was first published in the 2022 Southeast Adventure Guide edition of FLYING Magazine.

The post Choose the Right Airplane for Your Sequatchie Sojourn appeared first on FLYING Magazine.