Knowing that I was fortunate to have a car at all and understanding that complaining would in no way reduce the frequency of breakdowns, I rolled with it, ultimately developing a creative solution. I’d simply remove both of my bike’s wheels and keep it stored in the trunk. It was better to have it and not need it than the other way around, I reasoned. And sure enough, about once a week, I’d leave the dead Oldsmobile on the shoulder of the road and deploy my auxiliary bicycle to reach my destination more or less on time. As I recall, the car would magically start back up after sitting for most of the day.

• READ MORE: 5 Things I Wish I Had Known Before Buying My First Airplane

Since then, that “better to have it and not need it” philosophy has served me well, even extending to aircraft ownership. It first emerged early in my shopping process when I was narrowing my choices to just a few models.

After earning my tailwheel endorsement in an old Cessna 140, I initially decided that it or its flapless twin, the 120, would be the type for me. The familiar Cessna yoke and handling put me at ease, as did the docile yet engaging takeoff and landing qualities. Parts and qualified service were easily sourced, and the small C85, C90, and O-200 engines all promised low fuel burns and economical operation. Best of all, the acquisition cost of these types was among the lowest out there. The choice seemed obvious, with few, if any, drawbacks.

Then I looked into useful load. 

As a resident of Wisconsin, where cheese is as much a lifestyle as a food item and where the long winters make a convincing argument for staying indoors and enjoying said cheese, I, unfortunately, adopted certain physical attributes championed by the general population. Namely, width and weight. Neither is very compatible with 1940s-era light aircraft.

If Cessna had converted the 140 into a mini-Bird Dog, with tandem seating in place of the side-by-side bench seat, things would be significantly more comfy. Luscombe did precisely this with its T8F Observer. But, firmly sold on the early Cessnas, I was faced with the decision of cramming myself into either the small 120 or 140 or saving my pennies for years to enable an upgrade to the larger and more capable 170.

• READ MORE: The Pros and Cons of Aircraft Towing Solutions

It wasn’t an easy choice. I anticipated the vast majority of my flying to be solo, simply bopping into and out of rural grass strips in nice weather. For this, the smallest Cessnas would fit the bill perfectly. But they’d also limit me to doing only that.

Looking further ahead, I anticipated the occasional camping trip. Certainly to EAA AirVenture in Oshkosh, but also to other destinations, with one friend at a time. And I anticipated someday attempting to join a local circle of friends as they fly into and out of short, challenging airstrips— something that would be both easier and safer when conducted at a takeoff weight well below the airplane’s maximum.

Going with a 120 or 140 would ensure every departure would take place at or near maximum takeoff weight. Every camping trip would have to be solo. Even then, I’d have to pack sparingly. And operating so heavy would also relegate me to longer runways, devoid of substantial departure-end obstacles, where the airplane’s luxurious climb rate could safely commence.

Would I really need the ability to take friends camping or hang with my STOL buddies at challenging strips? No. But just as in my Oldsmobile days, I decided I’d rather have those capabilities and not need them than the other way around.

When it came time to assess the financial reality of acquiring a substantially more expensive 170, it was simultaneously daunting and reassuring. On one hand, a 170 would likely cost about twice what a 120 or 140 would cost. This seems to hold true today. 

But on the other hand, it could be argued that I’d simply be parking the money. So long as I kept the airplane in good shape, flying it regularly and maintaining it properly, there’s little chance it would go down in value and decades of evidence that the value would go up. Difficult as it might be to save and spend such a vast sum of money, it was nothing like tossing it away on a depreciating asset like a car.

• READ MORE: Managing the Doldrums of Winter

For the following two years, I poured every ounce of effort into saving enough for a 170. I lost track of how many hours of overtime I worked, but 80-hour workweeks were not uncommon. I routed a significant portion of each paycheck directly into the airplane account—something I continue today to cover my airplane’s fuel and operating costs.

Eventually, the stars aligned. I found the perfect 170, and I had just enough in the bank to make it happen. Now, coming up on three years of ownership, I feel good about the years of effort to “buy my last airplane first” and obtain a more permanent solution.

Do I go on camping trips with friends often? No. Do I hang with my local buddies, ducking into and out of 700-foot strips? Also no. But I’ve got an airplane with those capabilities, one that I can grow into rather than out of. And I feel good having those capabilities and not needing them rather than the other way around.

The post When It’s Better to Have It and Not Need It 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.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1941 Aeronca 65CA Super Chief.

The Aeronca Chief reached the market just prior to the United States’ entry into World War II and was meant to offer buyers more comfort than the typical bare-bones light aircraft that proliferated at the time. While aircraft like its cousin, the Aeronca Champ, and rival, the Piper J-3 Cub, were aimed primarily at the trainer market, the Super Chief was meant more as a personal aircraft with added details like interior upgrades and toe brakes when many light airplanes had heel brakes.

This 1941 Aeronca has 2,298 hours on the airframe and 235 hours on the engine. The panel includes the basic VFR instruments that a pilot in 1941 would expect, such as an altimeter, tachometer, turn and slip indicator, and airspeed indicator. This aircraft is covered in Ceconite fabric from 1980 and has always been hangared. It has a 17-gallon fuel tank and the useful load is 463 pounds.

Pilots looking for a back-to-basics vintage tailwheel aircraft that can carry two people back in time to an era before airways and ADS-B should consider this Aeronca Super Chief, which is available for $31,900 on AircraftForSale.

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

• FLYING Magazine: Two Antique Men and One Antique Plane
• FLYING Magazine: Jumpseat: A Tale of Flying Legacies, Part 2
• Plane & Pilot: Taking Off In An Old Aeronca Chief On A Short Grass Strip With Tall Trees All Around
• Plane & Pilot: Aeronca 15AC Sedan
• AVweb: Tailwheels: Checkout And Owning

The post This 1941 Aeronca Super Chief Is a Time-Traveling ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Before one gets too far ahead of oneself, however, one must take a step back to evaluate the available options from a higher level. In my case, I had reached a point where I had become deeply entrenched in the intricacies of various types. How much heavier a metalized Cessna 120/140 wing is compared to the original fabric-covered wing, for example (around 50 to 75 pounds), and how much it might cost to replace all the fabric on a Stinson 108 (as much as $45,000 to $50,000 when it’s all said and done).

As I was navigating all the various pitfalls and little-known lore of several types, it occurred to me that perhaps I should first back up and determine whether I preferred tandem seating, in which one occupant sits in front of the other, or side-by-side seating. Similarly, it occurred to me that I hadn’t put much thought into whether I preferred yokes or sticks. I had become buried in specification lists and budget sheets, shopping with my brain and ignoring some of the less tangible preferences that aren’t as easily quantifiable in rows and columns.

• READ MORE: Finding Your Ideal Aircraft: Bringing the New Baby Home

Looking at my list of contenders, they ran the gamut. Some had two seats, one had three, and others had four. Some had sticks, others had yokes. And sure enough, tandem and side-by-side seating were both represented in my list of potential candidates—like the SOCATA Rallye that features side-by-side seating and sticks.

So, pausing my investigation into the minutia of various types, I took a broader look at these more fundamental decisions to be made. I began by considering my experiences flying aircraft with tandem seating configurations. Looking at the list of all the types I’ve ever flown—a list well worth maintaining, perhaps inside the back cover of your logbook—I picked out those with tandem seating and reflected upon my experiences.

From the simple Piper J-3 Cub to the Aeronca Champ to the supremely capable Aviat Husky, I recalled the combination of strengths and weaknesses inherent in that configuration. Each was a relative pain to get into and out of. A lack of flexibility and multiple winter layers could make this a real chore. 

Each provided outstanding visibility, so long as you were seated in the front. I definitely did not enjoy flying from the back seat of the J-3, for example. With another person seated up front, I might as well have been flying the Spirit of St. Louis, with zero forward visibility and an extremely claustrophobic cabin. If I was to pursue a type with this seating, I’d insist upon one that allows solo flight from the front seat.

Among the less-quantifiable benefits to tandem seating was the placement of seats along the fuselage centerline. As a friend of mine once observed, the throttle is in your left hand, the stick in your right, and some point between your eyes is the roll center. You may only have 65 horsepower on tap, but when banking into your turn to final, you might as well be flying your own Mustang or Spitfire.

But thinking back, I never really found the stick to feel as natural as a yoke. This might be the result of the law of primacy, as I’d done all of my primary training in Cessna 152s, but it might also have been a preference for using my left hand to control the aircraft and my right hand to control the throttle. One way to get to the bottom of this was to seek out a type where you manipulate the stick with your left hand and the throttle with your right.

I was fortunate to locate a Piper PA-16 Clipper for rent about an hour away in rural Wisconsin. The Clipper is rare in that it pairs control sticks with side-by-side seating and a single throttle control mounted in the center. The person in the left seat manipulates the stick with their left hand and the throttle with their right.

The Clipper had many admirable qualities. The relatively large ailerons provided a snappy roll rate, and it was fun to fly. But once again, the stick just didn’t feel as natural to me as yokes. This might have been a function of my relatively broad shoulders; my arms and hands naturally fell farther outboard of centerline, farther away from a centrally-mounted stick. 

I left the little FBO nearly $200 poorer, but with some useful insight into the yoke versus stick debate. And by determining that my preference was for yokes, this also meant that, by default, my preference was also for side-by-side seating. While sticks can be found in both tandem and side-by-side cockpits, there are, to my knowledge, no light general aviation types that combine tandem seating with two yokes. The Champion 402 Lancer comes close, with a yoke up front and a stick in back, but as a twin with fixed-pitch props and an inability to maintain altitude on one engine, this type was best forgotten.

The post The Daunting Endeavor of Buying Your First Aircraft appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

This was the wisdom coined by mountain bike pioneer Keith Bontrager back in the mid-1980s. The logic, of course, is that a bicycle part that’s both strong and light will not be cheap, one that’s light and cheap will not be strong, etc. The overlying theory is that when budget is a concern, you can’t have it all, and compromises must be made.

The link between cycling and aviation has always been a strong one, and back when I began to seriously shop for an airplane, it occurred to me that there must be a similar principle that can be applied to airplanes. Not in terms of strength and weight, necessarily, but rather in terms of the compromises that we must face when budget is a concern.

At the time, I had saved enough money to be seriously shopping for a small, two-place Cessna 120 or 140. When it comes to certified airplanes, these are some of the most basic and affordable options out there; commonly even cheaper, lighter, and simpler than Cessna 150s. A great way for a newcomer to test the waters of aircraft ownership for the first time.

The Compromises Begin

I was already familiar with the strengths of 120s and 140s, but as I learned more about them, their weaknesses became apparent. Chief among them was the limited payload. With most empty weights hovering between 950-1050 pounds and 25 gallons of fuel capacity, precious little was left over for occupants and baggage. 

These were useful things to learn, because it kept me from making some decisions I might have later regretted. For example, I located a fantastic 120 in a nearby state that checked nearly every one of my boxes and was listed for only $21,000. But digging into the records, I learned that, thanks in part to the heavier metalized wing, I would personally only be able to carry a 70-pound passenger with full tanks.

That airplane was beautiful. It was well-maintained, nicely equipped, and would likely have proven to be a reliable machine for many years. But it would have crippled me in terms of capability. Effectively a single-person airplane, I would have been able to carry a couple backpacks filled with camping gear, but I would never have been able to take a friend along with me for the trip. 

My search dragged on and my frustration grew. But I diligently continued to deposit funds into my airplane account, and before long, more options revealed themselves. I had accrued enough savings to be able to consider the nicest 120s and 140s available…as well as some of the least-expensive Cessna 170s on the market. 

A New Quandry

This placed me in an interesting position. My search now bridged the gap between beautifully maintained, well-sorted basic airplanes that offered less capability, and more capable types that were comparatively shabby and in need of attention. Each option offered its own significant strengths, and each included its own headaches.

Being a fairly visual thinker, I attempted to quantify the pros and cons of each airplane I encountered in a spreadsheet. In doing so, it occurred to me that I was facing a limitation not unlike Keith Bontrager’s astute observations on bicycles. When constrained by a finite budget, I would have to choose which strength I wanted and then accept the weakness it entailed.

In the case of airplanes, it wasn’t a matter of having to decide between weight and strength, but rather, capability and reliability. When bridging the gap between two levels of aircraft, I could go with an entry-level type that was well-sorted and would most likely produce few maintenance headaches, but it would offer limited capability. Alternatively, I could go with a more capable type that had a larger payload and could access more challenging locations, but it would be well-worn and would almost certainly require more frequent maintenance…both expected and unexpected.

Capable. Well-sorted. Affordable. I could choose any two. 

There isn’t necessarily a right or wrong answer to this conundrum. It simply comes down to what sort of ownership experience one finds more appealing—and whether one prefers to eventually replace their airplane with another type, or stick with one for many years.

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A pilot motivated by visions of long cross-country travel will likely dream of Bonanzas, Mooneys, and Comanches; complex, high-performance machines that can provide a compelling alternative to airline travel. But with a fixed and/or limited budget, the only affordable examples of those types will likely have higher-time engines, dated panels, and possibly a collection of maintenance issues that have been deferred for years. A work in progress, so to speak.

To purchase such an airplane is to embark upon a long-term project; a constant series of upgrades and repairs, and a corresponding lack of airplane availability as it is taken out of service for that work to be completed. For many owners, this might be a perfectly acceptable price of admission to the ranks of Bonanza/Mooney/Comanche ownership. But for others, it may sour the overall experience of ownership, exhausting their patience as well as their budget.

The latter sort of owner might ultimately be happier with a more humble, less impressive type like a Musketeer or Cherokee. Yes, these might not match the more powerful, complex types in cruise performance, range, or ramp appeal. But an airworthy, operational Cherokee has better performance than a Bonanza that’s confined to the maintenance hangar, undergoing a three-week long repair.

Personally, I ended up opting for the more capable airplane that was a bit shabby and unsorted. I recognized it would be used purely for recreation as opposed to a primary means of travel. Being down for maintenance would, therefore, not create any tremendous hardship.

I also liked the idea of buying one’s last airplane first. Having found a scruffy example of my dream airplane, I accepted a future of regular upgrades and restoration. A propeller upgrade here, some new avionics there. I envisioned a long-term relationship in which I learn the most minute details of every system aboard the machine and chip away at opportunities to gradually restore it to beautiful mechanical condition.

Over the first year of ownership, my patience and budget would both be tested. I’d encounter some fun projects that could be magically completed with the wave of a credit card, and I’d encounter others that required weeks of research, an open-ended budget, and months of downtime. 

Such is the reality of opting for the capable option that happens to be less sorted. Were I able to omit the “affordable” portion of the formula, I’d surely have an airplane that offers the best of both worlds. But such is life, and with the proper mindset, one will appreciate the strengths while taking the challenges in stride.

The post A Modest Budget Makes For an Exercise in Compromise appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

It is often said that a first-time airplane buyer should buy his or her last airplane first. The reasoning is, it makes little sense to invest in an airplane the pilot will outgrow or become bored with. A more expensive option may, in fact, prove to be a better long-term value by serving as a more permanent solution to the pilot’s needs.

Still, a budget is a budget, and while mission requirements vary considerably from one pilot to another, one common goal is to find an airplane that remains interesting and fun while minimizing the cost of ownership. In this respect, the Cessna 120 and 140 offer an intriguing blend of qualities for the new pilot and/or first-time buyer.

Model History

The 120 and 140 were some of the most successful postwar light aircraft in the US. Nearly 8,000 were built between 1946 and 1951, and more than 2,500 remain on the FAA register today.

The 120 was developed as a budget version of the 140, initially lacking flaps, rear side windows and electrical systems. Over the past 70-plus years, however, most of the 120 fleet has been modified with electrical systems and other upgrades.

Today, the presence of flaps is the primary difference between the two models, and with many 140 owners reporting little difference in performance with flaps down, the 120’s lack of flaps should not be considered a significant disadvantage.

The most desirable variant of the family is the 140A. Introduced in 1949, it offered a metal wing with more effective flaps and a redesigned instrument panel. The 140A was also available as the Patroller model, which included Plexiglas doors, a message chute, and a whopping 42-gallon fuel capacity that provided an endurance of around seven hours.

Current Market

As of early 2020, there were 14 140s and two 120s listed for sale in various places, with a median price of $25,000. The most and least expensive examples were significant outliers at $40,000 and $16,000, respectively.

While all the typical factors such as airframe time, engine time since major overhaul and general condition affect these prices, two particular items affect the 120 and 140 more than many other aircraft types—fabric condition and engine type.

Excluding the aforementioned 140A with its standard metal wing—and other 120s and 140s that have had their fabric wings converted to metal at some point in their lives—most 120s and 140s are equipped with fabric wings. While good, modern fabric can last for several decades when properly cared for, it’s wise to determine the age and condition of the fabric as part of a pre-purchase inspection.

With owners reporting $8,000 to $10,000 costs to replace the fabric and address minor internal repairs that are commonly found during the process, fabric replacement can approach half the total value of many airplanes on the market. Accordingly, purchasing an airplane with old, deteriorating fabric is not unlike purchasing an airplane with an engine in need of overhaul, and the selling price should be adjusted appropriately.

There are multiple engine types found in the Cessna 120/140 fleets. The most common—and, typically, the least expensive—is the 85 hp Continental C85 that came equipped in most examples. The noticeably more powerful C90 is less common but very well-liked for its blend of low weight and higher power.

A popular upgrade is the ubiquitous 100 hp Continental O-200, but because the rated horsepower is only attainable at higher rpm, many owners prefer instead to upgrade their C85s with an O-200 crankshaft as an STC. This provides additional power at a lower, more usable rpm range than the O-200.

Finally, some examples are fitted with the more powerful 108 hp Lycoming O-235 and 125 to 135 hp O-290. While the additional power makes a 120 or 140 perform notably better on climbout, these engines are also heavier, and payload can suffer. Additionally, because the O-290 is no longer produced or supported, parts have become both difficult to find and significantly more expensive than the alternatives.

Current FAA records indicate 674 120s, 1,653 140s and 235 140As are on the registry. The relative rarity of the 140A combined with its more sought-after features commands a premium over the others, with prices that are commonly 20 to 30 percent higher than the rest.

Ultimately, the most desirable examples have a recently overhauled engine, newer wing fabric, a well-kept interior and a reasonably up-to-date, ADS-B-compliant panel.

Flying Characteristics

Because the 120 and 140 are essentially tailwheel predecessors of the first 150s, the flight qualities are very similar. Unfortunately, so is the limited useful load. The maximum gross weight for the 120 and 140 is 1,450 pounds, and 1,500 pounds for the 140A. All have a standard fuel capacity of 25 gallons and empty weights that range from 800 to 1,050 pounds, resulting in a rather-limited payload.

With a heavier O-290 bringing his airplane’s empty weight up to 1,050 pounds, one owner reports having only 250 pounds left over for people and bags, underscoring the concern about the heavier, more powerful engine options. Similarly, most pilots prefer the fabric wing because it tends to weigh 30 to 50 pounds less than those that have been metalized.

The tailwheel configuration is, of course, what makes the 120 and 140 so vastly different from the 150. And the relatively benign handling and ground manners make it a great introduction to tailwheel flying. Visibility over the nose is fantastic, and the effective rudder makes takeoffs straightforward.

Read More: Approachable Aircraft

Once in the air, the 120 and 140 do indeed feel akin to the 150, providing a typical cruise speed of 100 to 110 mph with similar cabin comfort, space and handling qualities. Fuel burn varies by engine choice, but 4.5 to 5 gallons per hour is common. The fabric wing provides nice flying characteristics, with a light, crisp roll and an exceptionally docile and predictable stall.

Full-stall, three-point landings are almost a nonevent in the 120 and 140. By the time you milk every last bit of lift out of the wing and settle onto the runway, the remaining speed and energy is so low, very little effort is required to manage the otherwise typical tailwheel characteristics as you roll to a stop.

Wheel landings require more attention, particularly on lumpy grass strips. While most bounces on landing tend to be the result of a misjudged flare or an effort to force the airplane onto the runway, the Cessna’s undamped spring-steel landing gear is quick to convert an errant runway lump into an unplanned trip back into the air.

Early on, the 120 and 140 earned a reputation of being prone to nosing over while braking. Though many blame this on the positioning of the landing gear, the belief was more likely a result of brakes that were unusually powerful for the time period.

In that era, other light-tailwheel-aircraft types typically came equipped with relatively weak, cable-actuated brakes activated by tiny heel pedals. The 120 and 140, on the other hand, came with much more effective hydraulic toe brakes. This resulting combination of leverage and power ended in nose-over accidents when unsuspecting pilots jammed on the brakes.

To address this, many 120s and 140s have been modified with gear extenders, which aim to prevent these incidents by placing the wheels slightly ahead of the gear legs. While these do help to reduce the nose-over tendency, some owners and maintainers complain that they also introduce torsional flex to the gear, which can weaken and fatigue the attachment points to the fuselage. It’s wise to inspect this area closely during a pre-purchase inspection.

Later 140s and all 140As addressed the concern with redesigned gear legs that were themselves slightly swept forward to help counteract any nose-over tendencies. The gear attachment points on these models were strengthened accordingly to handle the torsional loads from the forward-swept gear.

Ultimately, the 120 and 140 provide a great introduction to tailwheel flying. With predictable handling, a very effective rudder and sturdy landing gear, they are forgiving to newcomers while still providing the endless satisfaction that comes from mastering a tailwheel aircraft.

Ownership

Plenty of aircraft types provide a low operating cost on par with the 120 and 140, but few also offer the retro, 1940s-era character and tailwheel flair. Together, these characteristics combine to make every flight that much more interesting, rewarding and memorable than those in more common entry-level types such as the Cessna 150 and Piper Cherokee. Park one of the former on a ramp, and they’ll often go unnoticed; park a 140 on a ramp, and you’ll soon be making new friends as they meander over to swap stories and memories.

And while the 120 and 140 lack the necessary qualities for true STOL operations, many owners find it to be a rugged, reliable machine for accessing poorly maintained grass and dirt strips, particularly when larger tires are fitted. Indeed, without a relatively fragile nosewheel attached to the firewall, the simple and beefy main gear is poised to take significantly more abuse than tricycle gear counterparts. Additionally, pilots in colder climates can install skis to open up entirely different flying experiences and adventures.

It’s this blend of character and qualities that make the 120 and 140 stand out. Though easily surpassed in one measure or another on a spreadsheet, they demonstrate how an aircraft can fall short in many commonly held metrics while offering a wonderful blend of less tangible strengths. Provided an owner can live with a limited payload and leisurely performance, these are airplanes that keep their owners interested and enthusiastic for a long time. Indeed, many owners we know vow they’ll never sell theirs, and it’s not uncommon to hear those who have express regret that they did.

This story appeared in the March 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post Approachable Aircraft: The Cessna 120/140 appeared first on FLYING Magazine.