This January, I finally got my tail wheel sign-off. Although it shouldn’t be a big deal to get this endorsement, I tried unsuccessfully several times. I won’t bore the reader with all of them, just the highlights.

    Last Winter I was working on my tail wheel endorsement at Morris in a Citabria, and really had it down. Unfortunately, my instructor decided he wouldn’t sign me off unless I went up in a 20 knot crosswind. Since I don’t even drive in a 20 knot crosswind, I suspected this was an attempt to drag out the training. While waiting for the cross wind, cash for lessons dried up.

    Recently finding out the twins were on the way lit a fire under my butt to get this done. It was either now or never. Over the summer I learned Poplar Grove offered training in a J-3. I called them and scheduled an appointment in their J-3 only to find out they do sign-offs in their Cessna-140. Why? I suspect because it is a more difficult airplane to fly, and takes longer to master. I decided to bite the bullet, schedule a double lesson, and get the damn thing done.

    Getting my butt out of bed on a very cold November morning was not easy. When I got to Clow, I found that my starter wouldn’t crank. This didn’t help improve my mood any. With the aircraft tied down, I managed to hand-prop the engine, which is not an easy task when you have a 10:1 compression ratio. Fortunately, the engine caught, I made it to Poplar Grove on time, and met my instructor, who was wearing a bright red Volunteer Fire Dept. Jacket. After a brief ground school session, we hopped in the Cessna 140. I tried to start it, but the engine coughed, sputtered, and died. The instructor took over and repeatedly primed, throttled and cranked the engine. Nonchalantly, he said "you don’t want to prime an engine too many times, or you could start a…."Carburetor fire" we both said simultaneously. On the following attempt to start the engine, the instructor yelled "Fire, get out!". I looked up and saw a pillar of smoke rising from the cowl. The carburetor had caught fire, so we piled out of the plane, shutting off the fuel and grabbed our headsets. As we stood there wondering what to do, the instructor said something like "We should call the fire department…aw crap...I am the fire department!", then took off running for the fire extinguisher at the gas pump. I watched with a heavy heart as the Brackett air filter caught fire and went up in an oily black puff of smoke. By the time the instructor had lugged the extinguisher over to the plane, the carburetor fire had burned itself out, but there was no resurrecting my lesson. The final indignity of the day was that I couldn’t restart my plane, and had to have a new starter installed, requiring my gracious wife to come pick me up. Vance and his son Tim flew me up there to retrieve my plane. Thanks guys.

    Ever the optimist I next scheduled a double lesson at A&M. It was rained out.

    Things were getting desperate. The twins were due at the end of February and I was running out of time to get this done. I called Preston Aviation in Florida. I needed a vacation anyway, why not kill two birds with one stone?

    I first found Preston Aviation on the Web when I was looking for tail wheel instruction in Connecticut during my long cross-country. Unfortunately, I learned they only have their Stearman in CT, so while I was able to cheese a high performance endorsement in their 220 horsepower Stearman, I couldn’t get the tail wheel endorsement without shelling out some serious cash. Tim Preston and his wife Peggy split their time between CT (Summer) and Florida (Winter), so I called their Florida Office. I scheduled a weekend and booked a flight down there.

    Waiting for this vacation dragged out like a 1:15 minute long English lecture back in college, but is was worth the wait. Preston Aviation is located at an airfield about 30 miles northwest of Orlando called Mid Florida State Airport, and it’s the type where we’d all feel right at home. It’s 3000-ft. grass strip with a few hangars, a windsock, and a friendly calico cat. Tim and I managed to sneak in a lesson on Friday evening, which worked out well because Saturday was called off due to 30 plus knot winds. It was warm enough to fly with the door open, which reminded me of flying my MXL, way back before I went to the dark side. I also learned I had gotten pretty rusty.

    Saturday wasn’t a waste, even though we couldn’t fly. My uncle, also a pilot, had joined me on this vacation, and knew a student at Embry Riddle. We called him up, to see if he could show us around. Unfortunately I didn’t bring my camera, because we saw the inside of the simulator building where they have floors full of Frasca 141 and 142 simulators, as well as a fully hydraulic MD-90 simulator. Embry Riddle has serious equipment for people who want serious careers!

    Sunday was as perfect a day for flying. The cold front that had generated the high winds had passed through giving excellent visibility. There was a light breeze, and although it was a chilly 40 degrees, the sun was out. Tim and I flew three separate lessons with a break in the middle for lunch. There were many grass and asphalt runways in the area (Leesburg, Umatilla, North Orlando), so we kept going from one to another, practicing different types of take-offs under different wind conditions. Many of the asphalt runways in Florida are unusually large, because they were once WWII military training bases.

    Flying the 1946 J-3 Cub was a blast. It flies as much like an ultralight as a GA plane. Patterns are kept tight, and takeoffs are fun as hell. By the end of the third lesson that day I had stopped scaring Tim with my landings to the extent that he was ready to sign me off. He told me to make a wheel landing, which I botched, but not catastrophically. He told me I would have to do better, which I did the next time. Then he told me to give him a good three-point landing and he would sign me off. I nailed the landing, and was so giddy I almost taxied into a very expensive 310 (visibility from the rear seat is not good).

    I taxied us back to the hangar, and Tim and I walked into the office. I was so happy to have the endorsement after so many attempts, I actually took a photo of Tim signing my logbook, much to his amusement. Now I have to find another endorsement to get.

 
The obligatory "I conquered the J-3" shot                                    Finally, I get my tail wheel sign off!