Brian's Got a New Set of Wings!
Article by
Brian Gilomen
Yup, I'm on the 6th aircraft in my 24-year flying career!
Way back when, in the dark ages of Ultralighting, I spent $300 to buy into a flying club that had an American Aerolights weightshift Eagle. Motivated by a powerful 215cc single cylinder Cuyuna, I could rip through the skies at speeds approaching 40 mph, guzzling fuel from the plane's capacious 2.25 gallon fuel cell. Best $300 I ever spent. Of the original 10 guys who had split the roughly $3000 acquisition cost of that plane (I had purchased a one-tenth share from one of the original members), only 4 were still participating by the time I came on the scene, and of that 4, only 2 of us flew regularly. Great, cheap fling. The Eagle was, by the way, the only "legal" ultralight that I have ever owned.
In 1987 I moved up to a 2-place Quicksilver. That second seat prompted me to finish up the private pilot ticket that I had started on several years earlier. Low and slow was my mantra, and I cruised the cornfields and bean fields near Wheatland for many years without care, windscreen or instrument.
Keeping up with the Joneses -- or at least the Lorenzanas -- I next climbed into a Beaver. No comments from the peanut gallery; I'm referring to my Spectrum Beaver RX-550. Much fun was had until I managed to burn up the motor in-flight after a fan belt failure.
I traded the Beaver, complete with toasted motor, for Don Wood's Phantom, which I had for only a few months and barely flew.
Shortly after trading for the Phantom, in 1998 Chuck Teater made me an offer that I couldn't refuse and sold me his Challenger II Clip Wing Special. A wonderful machine, that Challenger. Fast (nyaa, nyaa, Barry), fuel efficient (3.25 gph was typical when flying with many of my FVFC brothers), and with incredible range and the ability to haul a heavy load of passengers and gear.
After flying that Challenger, I should only be willing to step up, right? So, it ultimately came to pass that Mick and I finally inked the deal for me to buy his RANS S-12. As many of you know, the only thing that really gave me pause about buying the RANS was the fact that the plane has a 31.5 foot wingspan, and my hangar has a 29.5 foot door opening. Jim Wolak suggested that I just use a sabresaw to take a foot off each wing. Thanks for the great advice, Jimmy...
Deciding against Wolak's suggested permanent wing-ectomy and after replacing the still intact wing that had been removed to facilitate storage while the machine was inside my hangar, I figured I had just built the proverbial ship in a bottle. But, after a bit of a waltz with the empennage, and after marking pivot-points on the hangar floor, I discovered that I could get the plane in and out of the hangar with only a modicum of annoyance. Time to fly!
On Friday, May 26, after enjoying his visit from the FAA (see separate story), Mick agreed to give me some dual time in the RANS. Mick showed me how to perform a careful preflight and we then took off from Clow on a beautiful late morning, with him in the pilot seat for the first time in a l-o-n-g while. He handed the controls over to me as we approached Plainfield, and I spent some time getting used to my new toy. After working through some stalls, we decided to head over to Prairie Lakes for lunch. I got us there, and told Mick to take the controls as we entered the pattern. "I'll show you my special high-angle approach landing," he bragged. Well, all I need to say is that, after that landing, I didn't think Mick would have much room to criticize any of mine. ;-)
Mick and I enjoyed the Friday Fish and Chips Special, and then got back in the air, heading to Cushing where I decided to shoot my first-ever landing in the RANS. On climb-out, the water temperature warning light came on, emphasizing a high-temperature problem that we had been watching since shortly after leaving Clow. I throttled back a bit, letting the gauge settle back down to perhaps 190 degrees, and we flew direct to Cushing. After doing a full circuit of the pattern and waiting for what looked to be a Stearman take off, I brought us in. My landing was interesting: all I can say is that the RANS cockpit is about 2 feet higher off the ground than my old Challenger, and so I made it to the ground about 2 feet earlier than I was expecting to. But, it was certainly no worse a landing than the one Mick had made earlier at Prairie Lakes. ;-)
As we taxied back for a take-off, the Stearman -- which had landed after us -- cut us off in the back-taxi lane. No problem; we had plenty of time. Takeoff was uneventful, but the temperature warning light came on again. We kept the RPMs down on the way back to Clow, and I brought us in with an appreciably better landing, my second ever in the plane.
After showing me when and how to check the oil, and upon deciding that the coolant was too hot to check the level properly, Mick suggested that I do some solo takeoffs and landings. I eagerly agreed. I first taxied back to my hangar to retrieve and install the 10-pound nose weight that needs to be in place for solo flight, and then I took off on 36. That pesky warning light came back on in the pattern. I brought her down in what Mick allowed was quite a nice landing (maybe he was just making me nervous during dual flight, and now that he was gone I was properly relaxed) and then taxied to the run-up ramp for another go-round. But now, the temperature warning light was flickering during mere idle! "That's enough," I decided, and I reversed course and taxied back to my hangar.
While shutting things down, I noticed a warm, wet sensation on my left pant leg. Not recalling any predisposition with incontinence, I looked down and saw some kind of fluid dripping on my leg from the instrument panel. Oh brother...
After dragging Mick back from his hangar, and after looking things over, Mick opined that a coolant feed to the water pressure gauge was probably leaking. I've since pulled the panel, and discovered that he was quite correct. I think I've now fixed the leak, but after a spin around the patch I'm not sure that the gauge is registering correctly, and the high coolant temperature problem has not yet been fully resolved. But fixing things is one of the joys of owning an "experimental" aircraft, isn't it?
Where To Now?
Fixing a Bad LED in an Old GA Radio
Brian's got a New Set of Wings
Wake Turbulence can be Bad for your Health
Chef Wright Whips Up a 3-Egg Omelet at Clow