Dream Aircraft

by Schiff, Barry

  On my first and subsequent days at Stallion 51, Lauderback provided numerous hours of one-on-one ground school for each hour spent in the air. I had no idea that there was so much to learn about the airplane. My classroom notes include these interesting items:

  •The liquid-cooling system is an engineering marvel. Air enters the inlet on the belly, travels through radiators, and exhausts in a way that produces as much thrust as there is cooling drag, a phenomenon known as the Meredith Effect.

  •The coolant-temperature gauge is arguably the Mustang’s most important instrument. An overheating engine requires immediate action such as fully opening the cooling door, reducing power, and possibly making an emergency landing. (The cooling system is reportedly very reliable and normally operates automatically.)

  •The laminar-flow wing delays until Mach 0.77 the development of supersonic shock waves and the drag rise associated with them.

  •Be careful about inadvertently moving the landing-gear handle on the ground. There are no switches or downlocks to prevent retraction. In flight, the wheels freefall into position in case of hydraulic failure.

  Flight lessons ran the gamut of Mustang maneuvering and nibbled at the edges of the performance envelope. Emphasis was placed on emergencies, stall characteristics in all configurations, and a variety of takeoffs and landings. More than an instructor, Lauderback is an effective, enthusiastic teacher who enjoys passing along his love and lore of Mustangs. He is thoroughly dedicated to the safe operation of these thoroughbred aircraft.

  Although the full-blown course is expensive, those wanting to sample a Mustang can obtain dual instruction during one or more orientation flights. You will leave with precious memories, a video of your experience, and some appreciation of what it takes to fly the airplane.

  FINAL APPROACH

  The Mustang is so aerodynamically clean that it glides more efficiently than most general aviation airplanes but only when the propeller is set to high pitch. Blade pitch affects glide ratio so much that it can be modulated during descent to vary glide performance as necessary during an engine-out approach. (The P-51 loses about 2,000 feet per 360-degree turn.)

  You probably have seen fighter aircraft make high-speed overhead approaches. This enables pilots to make a dead-stick landing on the runway irrespective of where an engine failure might occur during such an approach. This is not true about a conventional traffic pattern, especially when extended downwind legs are required.

  I reminded myself on final approach not to overreact to a botched or bounced landing by jamming in full throttle. It is possible at low airspeed for the Merlin to torque the Mustang into an uncontrollable half-roll into the ground. A go-around can be made safely with only 46 inches of manageable manifold pressure.

  The entire runway is visible over the nose when on final. The goal is to be in landing configuration with the flaps at 50 degrees and indicating 100-110 knots when a quarter-mile from the runway. You then very slowly reduce power and airspeed for the wheel landing. If you begin to hear the crackling pops of the idling, backfiring Merlin at the same time that you touch on the stiff mains, you will know that you have done it properly properly. Maintain directional control by working the rudders and positively lowering the tail to get the tailwheel on the ground.

  (When making a short-field landing, move the mixture control to idle-cutoff after touchdown. This eliminates the thrust produced by an idling Merlin. Propeller inertia and windmilling prevent the monstrous “flywheel” from stopping quickly. As the Mustang slows and you begin to see individual blades, return the mixture to auto-rich. The engine restarts nicely and in time to taxi.)

  It is axiomatic that an airplane that looks good flies well. That certainly is true of the Mustang. It is not a difficult airplane to fly, easier in some ways than a T-6, but it demands respect and adherence to procedure.

  More than anything, the Mustang is addictive and intoxicating. The more you fly it, the more you want to fly it.

  When asked what it is really like to fly a Mustang, I am reminded of a cell phone call from my wife, Dorie, immediately after my first flight in Crazy Horse. Lauderback had put me through the wringer, and I told her that I was “tired, hot, sweaty and breathless.”

  “You sound like someone who has just had sex,” she said.

  I couldn’t have put it better.

  Courtesy Jim Thompson

  More than 300,000 young, patriotic Americans volunteered to become military pilots during World War II. Most of them received their primary training in that beloved biplane, the Stearman Kaydet (the “yellow peril”). The rest were trained in the Fairchild Cornell and the Ryan STA-3KR Recruit, the PT-22.

  Although the Ryan was not as successful (in terms of numbers built) or as well known as its competitors, proponents of the PT-22 claim that it was the superior trainer because it was more demanding and less forgiving. The Stearman and the Fairchild, they claim, were pussy cats by comparison.

  The PT-22 shown on these pages, NC53178 (serial number 1859), was built along with all of its sister ships by the Ryan Aeronautical Company at Lindbergh Field in San Diego, California. It made its maiden flight on February 5, 1942 and was drafted for military service at Visalia (California) Army Air Field.

  The PT-22 was retired from the military and began its civilian career at the end of World War II.

  Subsequent years took their toll on NC53178, and the airplane eventually became a basket case. In 1992 Greg Heckman came to its rescue and purchased the derelict aircraft for $11,000.

  Heckman, a research-and-design engineer in Illinois had been assisting in the restoration of warbirds for Pride Aircraft in Rockford, Illinois. He had always had a fascination for these historic aircraft and wanted to restore one for himself. Unable to afford a World War II fighter, he opted instead to restore a trainer. Because of his fascination with the Spirit of St. Louis, he had always been fond of Ryan airplanes, and this led to his selection of a PT-22.

  Heckman obtained a copy of the Recruit’s design and manufacturing plans from the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum. He then devoted 4.5 years and 2,300 hours of painstaking, hands-on work (excluding time spent on research and tracking down parts) to the effort while paying strict and meticulous attention to detail.

  This Recruit made its second maiden flight on May 6, 1998. This was in time for Heckman to enter the competition at EAA AirVenture 1998 at Oshkosh, where he was justly rewarded. The judges decreed that NC53178 was the Grand Champion Antique. It has been described as “the finest PT-22 ever built by Ryan or anyone else.”

  This magnificent machine caught the eye of Terry Ballas at Oshkosh during AirVenture 2002. He fell in love with the trainer and eventually bought it from Heckman.

  Ballas discovered, however, that a stock 1942 airplane has unacceptable limitations when operating in and out of controlled airports in major metropolitan areas during the 21st century. To the dismay of purists, he made certain modifications that included

  •Replacing the non-sensitive altimeter, which had a single hand, with a sensitive altimeter;

  •Modifying the instrument panel to accommodate the addition of avionics;

  •Replacing the canvas baggage nook with an aluminum compartment so that items couldn’t fall through and interfere with flight control cables lying below;

  •Adding an electrical system that included a wind-driven alternator and starter because it was impossible at times to find people at en route airports who are willing to hand-prop the engine;

  •Modifying the valves and valve seats to accommodate 100LL avgas. The engine was designed for 80 octane fuel; 100LL can burn stock valves;

  •Adding external grease fittings so that the rocker covers didn’t have to be removed to grease the rocker arms, a frequent ritual with the Kinner R-55 engine.

  The result is what in the automobile industr
y is called a “resto/mod,” a restoration modified to take advantage of technological improvements. Some claim that this contaminates the original design and reduces its value.

  Ballas’ Recruit is likely the most beautiful airplane I have ever flown. Its bright yellow wings are mated to a slim, polished-aluminum fuselage. Overall it has a sexy, sassy, inviting appearance.

  Immediately ahead of the front cockpit on top of the nose is a turn-over mast designed to act like a roll bar and protect the occupants should the airplane wind up inverted on the ground, although I question its effectiveness (especially on sod).

  Ahead of the mast is a glass tube, a sight gauge with a float that reliably indicates fuel remaining in the 24-gallon nose tank.

  The baggage compartment is accessed through a small door on the left side of the fuselage behind the rear cockpit and is placarded for a maximum capacity of 6 pounds. The handbook, however, says that 53 pounds may be carried there when the front cockpit is empty.

  The Kinner radial is a dry-sump engine, and its oil tank is between the engine and the fuel tank. Oil supply on this PT-22 normally is turned off if the airplane is not going to be flown for a while. This prevents oil from seeping into the lower cylinders and creating a hydraulic lock. A panel on the left side of the cowling is removed to ensure that the in-line supply valve is open prior to engine start. This also is where the primer is located, so give it a few squirts before starting.

  Heckman’s masterpiece is so immaculate that it is difficult to climb aboard for fear of soiling or scratching something. (One cannot find as much as a fingerprint on the shiny aluminum fuselage.) But I forced myself to overcome this fear and happily lowered myself into the rear cockpit. Solo flight is not allowed from the front although there are sufficient controls and instruments there for an instructor.

  The seats adjust vertically and the rudder pedals can be adjusted fore and aft like most military airplanes.

  Some PT-22s had direct drive starters. Someone standing behind the propeller rotated a hand crank that turned the engine and, hence, the propeller. NC53178 does not have such a starter nor is hand-propping required. Simply depress the starter button, spin the propeller 2-3 revolutions, and turn on the mags.

  The Kinner crackles and pops, and the sound is somewhat magical, strangely and inexplicably satisfying, reminiscent of another time. As expected, S-turning is required to see ahead while taxiing and downwind rudder is applied to prevent weathervaning into a crosswind.

  There is nothing unusual about the flaps-up takeoff other than the gathering sense of impending adventure as speed increases and the outside air begins to curl around your head and take you gently into its womb. There is no joy like that of an open cockpit.

  The Kinner radial normally feels a little rough during flight, as if running on 4 cylinders instead of 5, and has a distinctive sound: pockety, pockety, pockety. It seemed strange that the engine sounds differently when leaning one’s head to the left than when leaning right, but I soon discovered why. Exhaust from the two cylinders on one side exits loudly from two short stacks, while exhaust from the two cylinders on the other side flow through a carburetor-heat muff and exit that through a single stack. So you hear the barking of a Kinner on one side and a somewhat muffled sound on the other.

  The engine turns a long, 91-inch propeller, and engine speed is limited to 1,850 rpm, although 2,128 rpm is briefly allowed when diving. Cruise rpm is between 1,560 (economy cruise) and 1,680 (maximum continuous) resulting in cruise speeds of 110–120 mph.

  As expected, in-flight visibility is wonderful, much better than an open-cockpit biplane flown from the rear (especially a Stearman).

  Ryan made extensive use of ball bearings to help make the flight controls smooth, light and sensitive. Stalls and recovering from them are honest and straightforward, and there is ample pre-stall buffeting to warn of an impending stall. An observant pilot will notice, too, that the upper left flying wires begin shaking shortly before buffeting begins.

  Be careful, though, not to let the ball out of its cage at large angles of attack. The Recruit is intolerant of sloppy footwork, not unlike many aircraft of that era, and rewards the errant pilot with a spin. The PT-22 loves to spin and will do so enthusiastically and with little incentive. It spins rapidly and at a relatively steep nose-down attitude, which must have unnerved students training to be military pilots.

  Standard spin-recovery techniques are effective but one must be careful not to be ham-fisted and induce a secondary stall during the pull-up or to hold opposite rudder too long during recovery lest ye wind up spinning in the opposite direction.

  Applying bottom rudder during a tight, slow turn from base to final can lead to a spin without any warning whatsoever. Some attribute the PT-22’s spirited willingness to spin to the 4-degree wing sweep of the leading edges, but I have been unable to confirm this.

  The PT-22 reputedly tends to spin flat with a rear center of gravity (when the front seat is empty), although I did not notice such a tendency. The airplane is limited to 3-turn spins, so perhaps flattening develops if the spin is held much longer.

  With limit load factors of +7.6 and −3.5 Gs, you can perform almost any aerobatic maneuver for which you have the skill and desire. Snap rolls, however, are the PT-22s forte and are a joy to perform. An entry speed of 90 mph seems best although a little less airspeed reduces entry loads. The airplane flicks around quickly and can be arrested with ease.

  Gliding flight, however, is not one of the airplane’s fortes. Power off at the best glide speed of 85 mph, it comes down more steeply than one would expect from a trainer. It is best to approach with plenty of altitude or carry power during shallow approaches.

  The flaps can be ratcheted down (using a handle near the floor to the left of the seat) as much as 30 degrees for landing, but I cannot imagine why anyone would do this. They reduce stall speed by only 2 mph (from 64 to 62 mph) and increase sink rate dramatically. They probably were intended to train pilots in the use of flaps for when graduating to basic and advanced trainers in such aircraft as the BT-13 Valiant (the “Vultee Vibrator”) and the venerable AT-6 Texan.

  Landing the airplane is unexpectedly easy. The trunion (knee-action) landing gear incorporates long-stroke Aerol (air-oil) oleo struts that soak up any tendency to bounce. It is difficult to make a hard landing in the Recruit. It simply squishes onto the ground during either 3-point or wheel landings.

  Do not, however, allow this to lead to overconfidence and complacency. The PT-22 is one of those airplanes that helped to give taildraggers a bad reputation. Although the touchdown is easy, hang on. This is when the fun begins. Inattentiveness to or overcontrol of the rudder during the ground roll can lead to a wicked ground loop, especially if you are flying alone and the CG is aft. If your feet are not busily and adroitly dancing on the pedals, then you’re probably doing it wrong. PT-22s have steerable, full-swiveling tailwheels.

  No sooner had I shut down the engine when the airplane was pounced upon by John Montalvo whose job it was to clean up oil streaks and polish away any marks that I might have left on the airplane. He took great pride in preserving the airplane’s pristine appearance.

  Ryan Aeronautical entered the trainer market in 1934 with the Ryan ST (sport-trainer), progenitor of the PT-22. T. Claude Ryan had always favored monoplanes over biplanes, a design element of Lindbergh’s flying fuel tank.

  The ST was a sleek and sexy machine partly because its narrow, inverted, in-line, 95-hp Menasco engine fit into a slender cowling that melted gracefully into the long, shiny-aluminum fuselage. The result looked as much like a sculpture as it did an airplane.

  The airplane became the Ryan STA Super Sport when horsepower was increased to 125; the Ryan STA Special had a 159-hp, supercharged Menasco engine.

  A Ryan STA was sent to the U.S. Army Air Corps in 1939 and was called the XPT-16, the first monoplane acquired by the A
AC. Fifteen more were requested and called YPT-16s. Thirty more were delivered as PT-20s.

  General Henry “Hap” Arnold, however, was displeased with the Menasco engine’s reliability and suggested that it be replaced with the more robust Kinner engine even though the 5-cylinder radial disturbed the beautiful lines of previous models. Ryan delivered 100 of these PT-21s.

  During 1941 and 1942 the Army Air Corps (and Army Air Forces) ordered 1,023 of Ryan’s wire-braced monoplanes with improved Kinner engines and without landing-gear fairings (for ease of maintenance). The result was the Ryan PT-22 ST-3KR. The Navy also ordered 100 of them (designated as NR-1s).

  Although not as pretty as previous STs, the PT-22 made up in strength and reliability what it might have lost in sex appeal.

  Although the PT-22 and the STA are closely related, the Recruit is not an STA with a radial bolted on the nose. The PT-22 was designed as a military airplane. Its fuselage, for example, has a circular cross-section to accommodate larger pilots while the STA has a shapelier, oval fuselage.

  For further information about Ryan aircraft, contact the International Ryan Club at http://www.ryanclub.org/.

  The world is smaller for pilots than other people make it out to be. When I flew for TWA, I made numerous trips around the world during the early 1970s. I saw places that only a relatively few pilots see and had experiences that do not occur on a cross-country flight between Denver and Dubuque.

  The farther afield we fly, the more fascinating becomes the topography that slides beneath our wings, wings that slice through the same air and obey the same laws whether attached to a Cessna 182, a Cirrus SR-22, or a Boeing 707.

  So if you are inclined to wander, I would like to share with you notes taken during one of those round robin flights, a circumnavigation of the world from Los Angeles to Los Angeles in a Boeing 707-331B. Remember that this is a verbal snapshot taken decades ago. Much has changed in the interim, but I think that you will enjoy this historical perspective of international airline operations.