The Rotax 912 Rubber Replacement Requirement: Gumming Up S-LSA
By Andy Foster | February 13, 2012
My first exposure to the Rotax 912 has been flying it in the 2006 Flight Design CTSW my wife and I bought about three years ago. Generally, it has been a great little engine from an operational and maintainability standpoint. It sips 5 gals/hour at 75% power while propelling out CTSW at 112 knots giving truly respectable performance. That said, I can no longer recommend to my friends to buy S-LSA’s powered by this engine. The cost of maintaining and operating is significantly higher than I had thought due to one thing; Rotax’s requirement that every five years all the rubber in the motor be replaced. The cost is rolling in for most people between $2800-$4000, depending on which shop does the work. This adds $560 -$800 a year to your operating and maintenance costs. That’s not much in the overall scheme of things, but it does add up over the lifetime of owning the airplane.
Of course, the requirement is being defended as a safety concern, and it once again renews the argument about whether maintaining an aircraft using time constrained or conditioned constrained maintenance is best. No one wants to push an engine into a mechanical failure, so it’s easy to argue that replacing components before they wear out is the way to go. However, that ignores the fact that any major maintenance activity itself induces an increase in risk of engine failure whether due to a maintenance error or introduction of a new but faulty component. (And some owners have already experienced problems–partial loss of engine power–after this maintenance since it can introduce contamination in the fuel system very easily.) Additionally, it’s also easy to argue that “flying is expensive” and expect the owners of the aircraft to just suck up this expense, which belies the fact that the idea behind light sport itself was to help reduce the cost of aviation in order to increase both pilot starts and longevity. Assuming that the cost of this “after the fact” requirement hits the high end ($4000/5 years) and that one flies 100 hours per year, then the owner will have paid out at least $12000 in addition to the regular costs of inspection and maintenance by the time the engine hits its 2000 TBO. That’s an additional 50% over the cost of an overhauled or news engine and makes Lycomings and Jubirus start looking a lot more attractive. I believe it will be only a matter of time before the market starts catching up to this. In the meantime, I’m cranking in an additional $60-$100/month to our expected expenses to account for this maintenance.
I’m not crazy about selling my CT, but I have to be honest and say I am looking at it because of this expense. Flight Design has to also realize that we will not consider moving to a different FD airplane because they use the Rotax 912 across the board. It’s too bad I’m having to think about this at all, but we’re not made of money and I’m not renting my plane out so I can try to recover the expenses from those operating costs. If this requirement hit in the car industry, you can bet there’d be a huge outcry for the manufacturer to absorb some or all of those costs, and the government might step in to enforce it. It’s the perception that all airplane owners are rich that stops that from happening in a case like this, and there are too many of us that know that’s not true. I hate to go back to being a renter, but it’s something I’m looking at once again. My other and perhaps better option is to move to an experimental. I’m not sure what I’m going to do.
No Comments »Damage Control: Was EAA and AOPA ready to sacrifice Light Sport?
By Andy Foster | December 12, 2011
I am a member of both the Experimental Aircraft Association and the Aircraft Owner’s and Pilot’s Association. I am also a Light Sport pilot, CFI-S wannabee, and a LSA owner. In this week ‘s e-mail newsletter from AOPA was an an article entitled ” LSA Industry wary of AOPA and EAA medical proposal.” This medical proposal, which will be presented to the FAA after the first of the year, asks the FAA to exempt private pilots from the need for a third class medical if they restrict their choice of airplanes to those single-engine, fixed gear aircraft with 180 hp engines (or less), their number of passengers to one, restrict their flight conditions to day VFR only, and participate in an educational program to make them aware of the medical consequences of various conditions. They base much of their argument on medical data gathered from Light Sport operations which demonstrates no increase in the accident rate as a result of flying on driver’s license coverage only. I’m all for this proposal, but one of the things I realized early on was that this would have a negative impact on the Light Sport movement. Because of this article and my experience with EAA on this subject, I feel the need to ask the question: “Was EAA and AOPA ready to make Light Sport the sacrificial lamb to get this done?” I believe they were.
First. let’s refer back to the AOPA article. The tone of the title suggests that the Light Sport industry might oppose the exemption. There is nothing further from the truth. For those of us already certificated pilots, this proposal would expand what we can do with our LSA’s on several fronts. However, that is a different thing than realizing that this impact will also serve to diminish Light Sport sales since the older pilot segment, who has the money to buy these aircraft, will probably keep the aircraft they own rather than transition to LSA’s, even though they are newer and often better equipped. It is the sure and negative impact on the LSA industry this proposal will have that Light Sport is reacting to since it will impact LSA flight training as well as LSA sales and maintenance (i.e., the RSLM rating). When the economy is already depressed, such a blow to the LSA industry does hold potentially permanent harm. If AOPA and EAA want to say they didn’t realize this, then they didn’t do their homework before pushing this forward. And if they did realize it (and I believe they did), then it demonstrates that they were indeed ready to sacrifice Light Sport to get this done. The fact that neither organization told the LSA community this was coming is another possible indicator that their intent was not pure, no matter how much “good” for the rest of the aviation community it might do.
Secondly, I want to discuss the Governmental Relations briefing published by EAA about this issue (medical certification). When it was first released, one of the reasons the organization gave for pressing with the exemption was that the current situation was pushing pilots into unfamiliar LSA’s and potentially higher accident rates. It essentially implied that Light Sport was unsafe. What was unsafe was that briefing. Having worked in the government for decades, I knew how that could be used not only against the exemption proposal but also as an argument to revoke Light Sport privileges. I contacted EAA’s Government Relations representative and worked with him to rewrite it so that it was reworded to its current revision. (My argument to EAA was that any higher accident rate data was an argument for transition training…not this medical certification exemption.) But the fact that the original release referred specifically to LSA’s and implied there was a safety issue implies that EAA as well was willing to make Light Sport the sacrificial lamb. Either that, or the people who wrote, approved, and released the original briefing were so totally clueless about what they were doing they need to be in other jobs or, at least, re-educated before they continue in the ones they are in.
I still believe in both organizations and will remain a member in both…for now. General aviation is struggling to survive, and we cannot afford to play one part of the community off against the other. I believe those of us who care about Light Sport need to keep a keen eye on what is happening with this proposal and any other actions taken by both pilot groups to ensure that Light Sport survival is not put at risk. Apparently, what no one is thinking about, is what happens if the current proposal not only goes down the tubes but the effort behind it gives the FAA rationale it needs to take Light Sport with it.
No Comments »User Fees in: Obama Out!
By Andy Foster | September 21, 2011
President Obama’s latest budget proposal, which is being heralded as a “jobs act”, contains within it what I consider to be a threat to aviation safety and a threat to general aviation’s ability to fly. They are proposing a $100 per flight user fee charge to use Air Traffic Control services we already pay for. The bill claims we do not pay our fair share while conveniently ignoring that the system primarily exists to serve airline safety. It gives general aviation no credit for the equipment we have installed and trained to use to make the system safer for everyone. Those costs are there for us whether we use the system or not.
The bill and the wording in the bill shows that the proposal is based on a false perception that aviators and fat cats are in the same class. That is not only ill-conceived but shows no understanding of the aviation industry. As an example, the bill states this fee will be paid by users of “controlled airspace”. Honey, there is very little uncontrolled airspace in this country, especially in the populated states, unless we all fly at less than 700 feet. What the bill meant to do was charge a fee for anyone who uses the ATC system, which is a different thing entirely. (DOH!) Moreover, it establishes an unfunded mandate, as it does not address the additional bureaucracy that will be needed to determine who owes the fee and then track him or her down and get him or her to pay it. It would take one for VFR customers; IFR customers can simply be asked to provide a credit card number when they file their IFR flight plan. I suppose we can also establish a frequency at every air traffic control tower where our already overtaxed air traffic controllers can take your name and credit card number and punch it into the system, giving you a special code you can give ground control when you get ready to taxi that shows you are a paying customer. We would still need to address how the system would collect the fee when you called in to ATC from the air; it would provide a great excuse to hire a government worker whose only job was to run up to your airplane as you taxi in, tackle you as you get out, and arm wrestle you to get your fee.
The bill tried to douse the ire of the aviation community (especially AOPA and EAA) by declaring that “recreational piston aircraft” would be exempted from the ATC fee. Someone tell me what is a “recreational piston aircraft”? Is my airplane a “recreational piston aircraft” when we’re going for the hundred dollar hamburger but not when my wife and I are using it to travel and see family (using less gas than our car)? How the hell will the FAA be able to tell what that is? Since they won’t, in the end, all piston aircraft WILL pay the fee. And if that’s the case, then we will see a mass exodus away from using ATC services. That may be what the Administration wants because they can ultimately shrink the budget if fewer controllers are needed. Kind of also makes me wonder whether most of General Aviation needs to start saying to the FAA we’re not sure it makes sense for us to go to the expense to equip for Next Gen, since we’re not going to be flying in “controlled airspace”. By this Administration’s definition of the term, that is.
It’s hilarious that this is all rolled into a “jobs bill” that will, with this fee, cost jobs at every airport that has a control tower. On our trips to visit with my wife’s family using our airplane, we would not stop at two controlled fields we currently use. Those fields would lose the money we spend on gas, food, supplies, and sometimes maintenance. Their towns would no longer suffer the possibility of us spending money to rent a hotel room or go out for meals or a show in the event of an overnight stay. We would, instead, migrate to smaller fields and towns where a one hundred dollar fee for trying to be safer would not get in our way. I’m not going to let the government make it too expensive to see Grandma…
Moreover, the bill seems to imply that all commercial activities would suffer the fee, and flight training is one of those. As if the profit margins from flight training activity weren’t small enough, this fee will tack on a one hundred dollar per flight charge to every training flight at schools located with control towers. How many flight schools will afford that? ZERO! As a result, we’ll see them relocating to smaller fields or simply closing down because they can’t afford to operate. When aviation activity is already in decline, this is one of the dumbest things this community can be asked to tolerate.
From day one, the Obama Administration has demonstrated a clear “anti-aerospace” bias while continuing to use the very tools the industry has provided. Its early rhetoric against the business jet community and now its ignorant proposal to incorporate an aviation user fee system in addition to the fees we already pay are just two examples of it. I have stated for the record and do it again here…I will vote against any politician who tries to or does institute a direct ATC-related user fee system, not only because of the effects of that fee on the industry but because of its affects on aviation safety, all of which are being glossed over. When any change is not fully examined, you can bet in the long run it will be bad. This change is NOT well thought out…
When 2012 comes around if this aviation user fee has gone in, I’m going to vote Obama out and include in that mandate every politician who agreed on this issue with him. That is something you can take to the bank, which is more than most of us can claim about this bill.
1 Comment »The CFI-S Conundrum: Time for Change!
By Andy Foster | August 26, 2011
I had been thinking since I first started flying Light Sport I might want to go after my Light Sport Certified Flight Instructor Rating. I have always loved to teach and I have always loved to fly. Once it was clear to me that I needed a way to stay in aviation as the space shuttle program was being shut down with nothing to replace it, I knew I wanted to go after that rating and use it as a means of self-expression and a means of keeping my airplane (a Flight Design CTSW LSA). I engaged the help of a good friend and coworker who is a CFI and now a full-time Continental Express pilot and we have been working to teach me how to be a good teacher in the air for several months. I’ve been introducing him to Light Sport, so I like to think that, in addition to the checks I give him, it’s a good trade!
I almost decided against going down this road.
For those of you who don’t know me, I hold a Commercial ticket with an instrument rating for single-engine land and have about 1300+ hours of pilot time. That time includes various single-engine airplanes…Cessna’s, Piper’s, Mooney’s, Citabrias, Decathalon’s, Grummans, T-34B’s, T-28B’s and C’s, and even a little solo time in T-2B’s and C’s. There is also “unofficial” pilot time in both the Fixed and Motion Base Shuttle Mission Simulators flying to and from orbit, both nominally and in abort modes. I also have a little over 1200 hours as a Naval Flight Officer (Special Crew Flight Time) most of which was as a Radar Intercept Officer in the F-14A. For the last several years, ever since we decided to sell our Grumman Cheetah, I have been flying under Light Sport rules in a Flight Design CTSW both my wife and I love. For us, flying only under Day VFR is good enough; though I like flying IFR, my wife hates it. We had only been flying at night on occasion. Additionally, after sinking tons of money into the Cheetah only to mechanically catch it up, my wife refused to let me consider buying another 30 year old airplane. Light Sport allowed us to move to a newer airplane than we otherwise could have and it cost less to operate, too, though sometimes…
But I digress.
Soon after we started flying Light Sport, I realized I had enough hours to go after the Light Sport Instructor rating (which I have seen designated as CFI-SP and CFI-S, more often the latter). Two of my closest friends in aviation are both CFI’s, and knowing I might be able to work with one or both of them helped convince me to start investigating getting the rating. As I looked into it, though, I realized a rather incongruous and disheartening thing, i.e., that the FAA was saying that dual time received from a CFI-S would not count toward a Private Pilot rating. This sent an immediate message to me that the CFI-S was considered a “second class citizen”, something reinforced by the reactions of CFI’s around me who didn’t want the competition from this “new kid”, especially in an arena where most of them had absolutely no experience. In the end, after months of thinking about it, I decided to go after the CFI-S anyway. I knew that AOPA and EAA both felt that this situation was unjustified and that there was some wind blowing for change.
When Connie and I went to EAA Airventure 2011 last month, I stopped by the AOPA tent and discussed the petition that AOPA and EAA had sent to the FAA asking that the rule for CFI-S dual time accountability toward higher ratings be changed. Neither of the two gentlemen I spoke to really knew where that petition was in the FAA process, but one of them commented that “it could take years” for the FAA to respond. I am pleased to report he was wrong! Tonight, my CFI let me know he had seen an notice from AOPA that the rule change was being opened for public comment under Docket FAA-2011-0138. I IMMEDIATELY PUT MY TWO CENTS IN! All you guys who are thinking about flying LSA and going for your Private later and all you Light Sport pilots in general, now and in the future, PLEASE go to: http://www.regulations.gov/#!home and put in “FAA-2011-0138” in the Search bar and let it take you to the Docket and make a comment supporting this change. (Why should you do that? Because it gives you more options!)
Here’s what I had to say about it:
“I hold an FAA commercial/instrument rating ASEL, have been flying Light Sport for over two years and am currently pursuing my Flight Instructor Light Sport rating. Additionally, I am an ex-astronaut and flight controller trainer and have over 1000 hours as a Radar Intercept Officer in F-14 aircraft. Having started CFI training before, I can attest that there is no difference in the training I am currently receiving for CFI-S vice CFI other than not having to teach commercial maneuvers or night flying techniques. In every way, the day VFR skills for Light Sport translate directly into those needed for Private Pilot; indeed, the characteristics of the LSA I am flying make it harder to fly then many GA singles I have flown in the past. Therefore, to not count instruction I would give as a CFI-S toward the Private Pilot or higher certificate is not only illogical but does a great disservice to the CFI-S as well as the Light Sport movement, in general. Indeed, this discrepancy was a reason I almost decided not to pursue the CFI-S even though I love to fly and love to teach and Light Sport is and probably will remain my aerial province. If this is allowed to stand, it puts me and my flight school at an immediate business advantage that could result in the long run at my having to leave aviation altogether. Driving pilots out of the game is exactly the opposite of what the Light Sport rule is intended to do.
If there is a belief that CFI-S instruction is somehow inferior, then the FAA needs to revamp its training and testing systems. Otherwise, this petition needs to be adopted for the good of Light Sport and general aviation. There does not need to be a second class citizen known as the Light Sport CFI.”
The time to change this illogical and wasteful situation is now. Please support this change.
1 Comment »On Flying the New Light Sports
By Andy Foster | August 12, 2011
Whether you’ve never set foot in an airplane or are an experienced aviator simply looking to get into Light Sport flying, one of the best ways to do that is by learning to fly in a Flight Design CTSW. Our model is a 2006 with the slightly larger stabilator, a Garmin 496 with XM weather, and a two-axis autopilot. As that introduction suggests, just because this is a light-sport aircraft doesn’t mean it’s not a very capable little bird; I chose this model because of its cross-country capability. By mastering Light Sport and the CTSW in particular with its helicopter-like visibility, one opens the doors to personal flight in its best sense.
That said, you may have noticed that recent FAA Safety promotional material is talking about higher accident rates in light sport. Be sure to read what the FAA is saying carefully because they admit that overall accident rates are in line with other general aviation classes. That said and having flown light-sport and the CTSW exclusively for a little over two years and a couple of hundred hours, I would like to share with you my picture of what about light-sport is different and do so mainly from a safety standpoint. The caveat is that what I’m about to say to you and what the FAA is also saying to you is that every light-sport aircraft is different, and though you may be able to draw some overall conclusions about the category, it’s not gospel when it comes to talking about any individual light sport airplane. There’s a lot of folks who still look down on light-sport, and it is that attitude that can lead to underestimation and accidents, as well as missing a really good time!
(1) Performance varies widely within the Light Sport class.
The FAA tri-fold brochure on Light Sport accidents being circulated now refer to light-sport airplanes as: “not as powerful, nor as capable, as some you may have previously flown”. This is not a uniformly, across-the-board, true statement and believing it is can itself lead to accidents in certain light sport aircraft. While my CTSW can only haul a 584 pound useful load compared to our 830 lb useful load 76 Grumman Cheetah, the Grumman never saw 1000 fpm in a climb, something my CTSW can hit anytime it is flown single-pilot with half fuel. Additionally, the CTSW will quickly accelerate from a Vy climb speed of 78 knots to a cruise at 112 knots, almost exactly equivalent to what I would flight plan with the Cheetah (110 knots). In fact, one of the surprising things about the CTSW and one of the things that makes it more complicated to fly than the Cheetah—or most GA singles– is its flap configurations and limitations. Nominal flaps up in every airplane I’ve flown before this one is at zero degrees, but in the CTSW it’s minus six degrees. The aircraft accelerates very quickly from climb to cruise as the flaps go negative. While the airplane approaches at 54 to 65 knots and stalls as slow as 39, it will easily slip into the pattern pushing 120 knots.
Certainly, there are plenty of light sport aircraft that don’t perform like this. But my point is that you need to get to know the light sport aircraft you’re going to be flying in and exactly what kind of performance is at your behest. The best thing you can do when deciding to fly or buy a light-sport aircraft is empty your brain of any preconceptions you have unless you’ve gained them with actual flight experience in the aircraft.
(2) You’re going to have to take winds more into account.
By law, the light sport category tops out at 1320 lbs gross weight. The light weight of the aircraft, especially when coupled with aerodynamic refinements of some of the newer models, means that the airplane is, more than likely, going to be more of a handful to fly in gusty winds, especially in a crosswind. While the CTSW has the sane 16 knot crosswind limitation my Cheetah had, flying a crosswind landing in the CTSW gets your attention a LOT more, especially when any kind of flaps are down. Additionally, the airplane is much more gust responsive in the air and on the ground, especially right after touchdown when aileron control is deteriorating but the wings still have significant lift. While the Cheetah didn’t have any kind of operating restriction on the ground due to winds, Flight Design recommends that flight ops in the CTSW stop with any surface wind at or above 25 knots. I’ve found the CTSW actually handles fairly well with no flaps in winds close to that and at or above the demonstrated crosswind limit, but becomes a “bubble on the water” with any amount of flaps. The bottom line here is that you will run into days when the sun is out, the birds are chirping, and the smart decision is not to fly because the winds are at or above published limits or simply because you don’t need to test out your and your passenger’s iron stomachs or prove out your exceptional piloting skills which you will need to get down without crunching the airplane if you launch.
(3) Plan on getting instruction with a CFI that KNOWS the airplane before you go solo.
When we bought our airplane, AVEMCO required that I get five hours of flight time and ten landings as well as a BFR in the airplane with a CFI who also had at least five hours in the airplane. Admittedly, that’s not always an easy thing to do because of the shortage of instructors who have light-sport experience and especially experience in the airplane you want to fly. But make sure you do. It is well worth it. That said, make sure your CFI has good knowledge of the aircraft he/she is going to fly. Otherwise, you’re just setting yourself up for an accident and are paying the CFI to take the risk that he/she will be blamed for it all as the Pilot-In-Command. (A few weeks before I wrote this, a CTLS went down in a fuel depletion accident during just such a flight; I suspect neither pilot knew CT’s fuel system.)
(4) Most accidents in CT’s..and the new Light Sport airplanes…occur with high-time pilots, not “fresh-outs”.
This gets back to making assumptions about flying light-sport and the CT series in particular. Follow what I’ve said above and you’ll probably stay out of trouble. The reality is, and this holds for experimental aircraft as well, that many accidents occur because of the pilot’s and/or instructor’s unfamiliarity with the aircraft. When you’re in some kind of a box and the airplane doesn’t respond as you expected, it’s too late to figure it out then. Thinking you’re a high-time pilot who can fly anything without any familiarization is the first step to getting there.
Ed Downs wrote an excellent article that sums up the flight characteristics of the new light sport aircraft that can catch pilots by surprise. The article is entitled “Light Sport Flying With In Flight USA”.
(5) Maintaining a Special Light Sport is not much different than maintaining a certificated airplane, and may be harder. The FAA delegated the “requirements” for maintaining the aircraft to its manufacturer rather than having the manufacturer meet FAA specifications. While light-sport aircraft are designed to ASTM specifications, the manufacturer’s requirements carry the weight of law. In the case of the CTSW, Flight Design gets the say about who can do what when working on the airplane, and that authority is laid out in the airplane’s maintenance manual. Likewise, the engine manufacturer (Rotax in the case of the CTSW) gets to say who gets work on its engines, and it has specified that even the simplest of engine tasks can only be performed by those with Rotax training. While I can make a good argument about why this is overkill and is actually hurting the Rotax market in the U.S., it’s the ways it currently is. On the other hand, if I want to install a new piece of equipment or avionics in my airplane, I only need seek approval from Flight Design and not the FAA. Most CT owners know how to do this and it is not a difficult or time-consuming task.
S-LSA’s may be maintained by Light-Sport Repairmen as well as by A&P’s with the proper training, though not as many of the latter are Rotax qualified. This is something to take into account when buying an LSA or flying it out of its home area. You can find a good listing of Light-Sport Repairmen at: http://www.rainbowaviation.com/repairman.htm
(6) You need to know the rules, because there are several things that can become regulatory traps. I’ve spent a lot of time exploring and studying the Federal Aviation Regulations about light sport (including discussing some aspects of these laws with AOPA and EAA), and if you don’t know the rules, you can run afoul of them very easily. Part of the reason for that is that they appear to be written for the 25-hour-and-no-other-experience pilot and part of the reason is that some operating limitations are found in FAR Part 61 instead of Part 91 where they probably belong. Flying on your driver’s license for your medical lumps you in with the 25 hour pilot, no matter what rating or how much flight time you have. For instance, you can be following the rules for visibility and cloud clearance criteria in 91.155 (Basic VFR Weather Minimums) and still violate Light Sport restrictions in 61.315 (What are the privileges and limitations of my Sport Pilot certificate?). In addition, 61.315 states that the light sport pilot must take surface visibility into account, something that makes sense when performing a takeoff or landing at an airport but not when at cruise. Neither of those things are actions imposed on any other pilot rating, which is why they can become regulatory traps for the light sport pilot.
Personally, I believe the Light Sport pilot and aircraft category is indeed the best thing to hit general aviation in the United States in a long time. For those of us flying Light Sport, the best thing we can do is fly as professionally as possible, talk up the advantages of flying Light Sport to everyone who will listen, and work to cut the disadvantages, of which there are still too many.
1 Comment »The Need for Airport Advocacy
By Andy Foster | March 24, 2011
Until the whole sad affair with the Municipal Management District (MMD) at Pearland Regional Airport occurred (Prowl around http://www.supportpearlandairport.com for the full story), I had thought my little airport was stable and okay and I had no reason for concern about its continued operation. I now know differently. Even though the airport has been in its present location for about 70 years, there is a group of local homeowners who would like to see it curtailed or shutdown. They effectively used half-truths and emotional rants to shut down the effort to turn KLVJ into a public airport without any real thought about what that impact would be. The situation was not helped by the airport owners, who portrayed a vision of Pearland’s airport becoming a jetport, playing directly into the homeowners’ fears about noise and pollution and opening the door to confusion. That led to both misinformation and emotional rhetoric that was fanned by a few homeowners into flames that blew the whole situation out of proportion. The MMD could actually have been an overall win-win for almost everyone, but there was no way that was going to even be presented. The homeowners were too busy shouting down their competition and dominating the discussion to allow anything but their own misperceptions be heard. It remains to be seen whether, in doing so, they actually cut their own throats and may have set up exactly the situation they do not want.
While a website associated with the homeowners stated they did not want to shut down the airport, such sentiment was not heard at a local meeting at a nearby restaurant and that was held to discuss the MMD. In fact, many homeowners cheered when they talked about the airport “becoming their golf-course”. Such attitudes colored the whole affair.
For now, they have what they wanted. Pearland Regional Airport is in private hands. I have some information that says the next step in its future may be its sale to a foreign investor who wants an airport he can put aircraft manufacturing on. That may or may not be true. If it is, it will introduce a very different dynamic into the whole situation, and the homeowners will find themselves with no choice but to accept what happens. Just like they have property rights associated with their homes, so will the new owner of KLVJ.
Regardless of anything else, I’d like to see Pearland Regional Airport remain open. I believe its best use is as a piston-aircraft and helicopter populated general aviation reliever airport. Moreover, whether it remains that way or transitions into a jetport, there will be a need for the pilots, tenants, and property owners using the airport to be able to not only stay aware of what is happening but have some means of influencing it. There is a strong need for advocacy for the airport no matter where its future lies. The MMD effort failed largely because the users were left out of the process until it was too late for them to fairly evaluate what it meant, much less organize in a strong enough way to combat the anti-airport people’s propaganda.
I know there are some folks who think that if they do nothing, Pearland Regional will remain as it is. I beg to differ. At some point, the current airport owners will have to do something with the property if it remains unprofitable. (The irony of losing the MMD is that the airport would have become profitable almost immediately under that structure, or so I’ve been told.) To turn it into a profitable venture, there will probably be a continued push to bring in more jet aircraft to boost fuel revenues. In other words, the airport more than likely will drive in the exact direction the homeowners feared.
If the airport is sold to a private investor, the impact of that is impossible to predict. We’ll all have to ride along to see what direction the airport goes. But one thing is clear. There are tidal forces silently at work that would like to close the airport. The most effective hedge against that is for us airport users to work together to let the community in on what really happens out here and make sure we help them understand the value to them of what we do. Like it or not, we either stand up for our right to fly or lose it; there are people out there who will take it from us for their own selfish reasons.
Whether we allow that or not is up to us.
3 Comments »Not As Prime: An Evaluation of iPad Use in a CTSW
By Andy Foster | January 23, 2011
My local EAA chapter held an impromptu fly-in to the Texas Gulf Coast Regional airport (old name: Brazoria County), and I decided to use the opportunity to evaluate using an iPad on a kneeboard my wife had generously given me for Christmas. Like most of the community, when the iPad first surfaced, I had high hopes for using it as an Electronic Flight Bag. I still might; but as I examine the limitations of the device in the context of using it in my little CTSW, I’m finding that it is best used more as a contingency tool. I’ll get to the reasons for that in a minute; but for now, let me talk about the kneeboard I chose to use it in.
The iPad Kneeboard I tried out is sold by Aircraft Spruce (under part number 13-08297) is a solid, one-piece, plastic extrusion that fits over your leg and has a single Velcro-strap that holds it to your leg. The iPad snaps down into the outer edges of the kneeboard so that it is firmly held in place but its edge controls are still accessible. Once the iPad is in place, it and the kneeboard become a single unit. If you flip the kneeboard upside down and try to shake the iPad out, it won’t happen unless you somehow deform the kneeboard itself. To remove the iPad, you simply pry it out of the case; but over time that means the security of the device will probably decrease as the plastic wears or deforms. The other drawback to this particular design is that there is no cover for the iPad’s screen, so it can be scratched or gouged if not carefully handled. In a small airplane like the CTSW, the whole unit becomes rather large, which is mostly what makes it unsuitable for every day use, though I suspect other CT pilots would disagree with me. Despite Apple’s protestations about making a smaller tablet, for use in an aviation environment such as mine, a 7 inch tablet would be a more appropriate size.
I first tried mounting the iPad and its kneeboard on my right leg. The first thing I noticed was that my immediate view of the Ignition switch and the Fuel Valve handle was blocked. That was actually a minor inconvenience. However, the CT’s control stick is only a little higher than the top of one’s leg; and I found that the edge of the iPad and the kneeboard tended to restrict stick throw with my legs in their normal positions. I tried moving the assembly to my left leg; and while that was slightly better, it did not totally alleviate the problem. In short, I feel that the iPad mounted on a kneeboard is best suited for an airplane controlled with a yoke or a side-stick controller and is not well-suited for an airplane with a small stick in between one’s legs. A taller control stick set-up might work, though I suspect the stick would bang against the unit for during any hard maneuvering.
In the bright sunlight that streams into the CTSW’s cockpit, the iPad was barely readable. While there is nothing new there, it became another reason not to use the iPad as my prime “flight bag”.
Does all this mean we won’t have the iPad in the cockpit when we travel? No.
I have discussed with my wife putting the device in a RAM mount but she’s not in favor of that because of the obstruction it would erect to her own views. So, we’re going to simply leave the device in its Apple case (a rubber book-like cover) and stuff it in between either my seat or hers and the center console. It will still be available in the cockpit for use as an “EFB”or an emergency chart or procedure reference. I still plan on using my small kneeboard and paper navigational logs (usually generated by the AOPA Flight Planner), sectional and terminal charts, and our Garmin 496 with its XM weather displays as my prime cockpit tools. I’ll re-evaluate that position as new versions of the iPad surface, new tools for it appear, or new capabilities come into iPad applications I already own. But, for now, the iPad in my cockpit will remain largely a reference or contingency device. Based on my own evaluations and some NASA ASAP reports about the device’s limitations, that’s the best use of it for me, even if it bucks the rising tide.
No Comments »Remos!ShaMEMos! What’s the fuss?
By Andy Foster | July 28, 2010
I was on the AOPA website last night watching the video the organization has posted about flying their Remos GX LSA to Oshkosh. The filmers assumed the Remos represented every LSA and, while I don’t disagree totally with some of what they said, a lot of what they presented was and is applicable only to the REMOS. Part of their rationale for flying the aircraft to Oshkosh was to establish whether an LSA (again, there they go generalizing!) can be a good cross-country aircraft. I laughed when I saw they only flew a six hundred mile trip; that’s the length of an average cross-country trip in our CTSW. So, for those of you still thinking about LSA, let me give you the perspective of a different LSA owner.
First, the most misleading thing anyone can do is to assume that all LSA’s are the same. Every LSA is different, even within the same manufacturer’s lines, though in some cases the piloting differences may or may not be small. As both a pilot and a prospective owner, you’ve got to do your homework and learn as much as you can about each airplane. Owner’s forums are an excellent place to do so and often are the best places to ask questions or just bone up on techniques or troubleshooting.
To that end and to specifically address some of the points within the AOPA film, baggage space is one thing we are not short of in our CTSW. Even though the baggage compartment is split by a Ballistic Recovery System, it’s as large as the baggage compartment in our ex-Grumman Cheetah. It is one of the reasons why we picked this airplane. I had looked at baggage carriage in both an Evektor SportStar Max and the Remos and, in both aircraft, the baggage areas are small and behind the seats. In the CTSW, the baggage compartment is behind the cockpit and is accessible through pop-out dual doors, one on each side. Admittedly, the door sizes and the fact that most of the space must be packed vertically means we pack our clothes and gear in soft bags, but that’s the only sacrifice we make that’s unique to the airplane. The CTSW, if you can manage to stay within its weight and balance limitations while doing so, can load up 110 lbs of bags, 55 lbs on a side.
According to the film, the Remos they took to Oshkosh cruised at about 100 knots. I typically book keep a 112 knot cruise and often see 115 knots indicated when flying locally at 75% power, and this is not unusual in this series of aircraft. My highest groundspeed so far has been 146 knots; and while most of the excess is tailwind, the fact that the airplane routinely cruises in the 110 knot plus range is part of what contributed to that. That “record” occurred during a single leg, three and a half hour trip from Tulsa, Oklahoma to Pearland, Texas, just south of Houston Hobby. We routinely travel to Alabama, North Carolina, and northeastern Missouri. Our longest flight so far has been the trip from Columbia, California to Pearland, Texas after we bought the airplane, a distance of 1463 nautical miles. So, when the AOPA guys are talking about how an LSA is more suited for trips around the patch, they may be talking about the Remos but they are NOT talking about the CTSW or probably anything else from Flight Design!
My airplane is equipped with a two-axis autopilot, a Garmin 496 with XM radio and weather, an attitude indicator, turn-and-slip inclinometer, an airspeed indicator, a VSI, a magnetic compass, a Garmin SL40 communications radio, and a Garmin 327X transponder. It also is equipped with lights for night flight, though current light sport rules prevent us from using the aircraft after dark. We also carry an ICOM A-24 handheld with VOR and backup communications capability, a unit that may be replaced in the near future by a Sporty’s SP-400 handheld with VOR and ILS. Combine that with paper sectionals and an iPad carrying sectionals, IFR low altitude charts and approach plates, and backup GPS and weather capability using 3G, and we’ve got quite a capable little package.
Yet, it seems, we see advertising about the Remos all the time and little about the Flight Design line of airplanes. That’s strange considering that, according to FAA records, there are 121 Remos built aircraft versus 317 Flight Design built aircraft flying in the US. There are, in fact, almost twice as many CTSW’s as there are Remos aircraft period (216 vs. 121). So, why all the fuss? Beats me!
I’m sure the Remos is a nice airplane. I saw one up close recently, and there are some things I admire about it. But don’t assume that one LSA is like all the rest. That just ain’t true. Do your homework and find out for yourself what the differences are, and then fly or buy the one that’s best for you.
3 Comments »Back Into the Wilder Blue Yonder, Part 18 (Final)
By Andy Foster | July 12, 2010
I awoke to the sound of an airplane roaring into the sky. I could see that the sun was up. When I heard a second airplane take off thirty seconds later, I felt like something was up and hopped out of bed to peer out the window. The sky immediately out the window was clear, occupied with only a few scattered clouds. But to the south, I could see a solid, low layer of clouds slowly moving toward us. If we wanted to get out before it arrived, we had to get up and go.
I awakened Connie and quickly explained to her what the situation was, and she agreed we needed to get going and hopped out of bed. We both wanted to get home today if it was possible, and I felt there was a good chance that thunderstorms might make any afternoon arrival in Houston problematic.
So, while Connie was getting ready, I ran DUATS on the computer and got our weather and NOTAM briefing. We would have scattered to broken clouds and scattered thunderstorms to contend with, and there were no NOTAMS that affected our flight. I then hauled my bags down to the airplane and while at it performed a preflight. Everything looked good except for the gas; we hadn’t taken on fuel the night before so that was one thing we still had to do. Connie finally finished getting ready, so we grabbed her bag, checked the hotel room for anything left behind, checked out of the hotel, and made our way quickly to the airplane. We strapped in, started up, and taxied over to the fuel pumps by the terminal where we got out and fueled up. Once we were done, we hopped back in, started the airplane again, and ran through our pre-taxi and taxi prep steps. We then taxied for runway one – four, stopping just before the hold-short to complete our run-up and takeoff checklist.
I called our departure over the radio as we taxied out onto the runway, and the little airplane rushed into the air as I pushed the throttle forward. We turned out toward the east as soon as we could while also looking for a couple of radio towers to avoid, one northeast and one south of our position. We climbed through some scattered clouds at about four thousand feet, and I took us up to fifty-five to level off above them. The winds were in our face this morning, so after leveling off, we hit just a little over a hundred knots groundspeed.
Below us, the ground stayed green but leveled out more, filling with trees, as we would catch glimpses of it in between clouds. We could see and hear the traffic flying from San Marcos as we crossed over its airport and then Lockhart Municipal beyond. In front of us, we could see a couple of towering cumulus clouds slowly expanding upward like a marshmallow volcano, positioned close to our course but none directly on it, so at least I wasn’t going to have to divert around them. But the clouds we were flying over were building upward (or lifting upward) as well. To keep ourselves legal, I shoved the throttle to full and climbed us up to seventy-five hundred feet. We kept pressing east toward Houston as the clouds also continued to bubble upwards. About seventy miles out of Houston, I knew I was going to have to go up to ninety-five hundred feet and make a fairly hairy descent dodging the clouds while inside very busy Class B airspace or I was going to have to dive back down now and accept the bumpy ride that surely awaited. I really did not like the idea of dealing with the Class B and possibility getting vectored to kingdom come, so I decided to take us down below the clouds now and motor in relatively low.
After informing Connie of what I needed to do, I found the biggest spot between clouds I could and rolled us into a high-speed dive. I could push us up toward the one fifty knot Vne, but there was no need to do that. A one hundred twenty knot dive was letting us cartwheel down at between fifteen hundred and two thousand feet a minute. The bases of the clouds were down around twenty-two hundred, so I pulled us out at fifteen hundred and put us back on course. The clouds towered over us like roaming behemoths as I set the throttle back to fifty-two hundred, the Rotax’s equivalent of seventy-five percent power.
As I had expected, the ride was bumpy as we roared up on Robert R Wells Junior’s airport’s single runway. We called our position, altitude, and direction of flight on the common traffic frequency but got no response and saw no one as we flashed on by. The GPS switched to the next checkpoint, Eagle Lake airport, only ten miles away. Happily, that airport used the same traffic frequency as Wells, meaning that we would hear any traffic calls for each airport as we approached either.
“Eagle Lake traffic, November Five-Four-Seven-Alpha Whiskey is ten miles to the west at fifteen hundred, traveling west to east, will be crossing over Eagle Lake.”
We got no response, and continued to press in. But as we closed our distance to five miles, we heard a Cirrus call he was three miles out on the Eagle Lake GPS Runway 17 approach. The hair on my neck stood up. We would be crossing the airport almost perpendicular to each other.
I called our position again and also called “no joy” to let the Cirrus know we didn’t see him. He responded that he had us on TCAS, which made him feel a lot better tha me since I still didn’t now exactly where he was. As we approached the airport and crossed over it, both Connie and I were totally eyes out, but seeing nothing. As the airport fell off behind us, we heard him call he was two miles out. The odds of him hitting us just went down, though I didn’t relax completely until we were more than five miles away.
We continued blasting low across the green Texas flatlands toward Lane airport as we also could now see the environs of Houston crawling toward us. We crossed over lane’s single black asphalt runway without seeing any other traffic, heading now for Houston Southwest airport, the last checkpoint before we got home. But we could see a large, grey cloud parked over the field and the grey, straggling strands of rain pouring down on it. With a pack of two thousand foot tall radio towers to the north of the place, I diverted us south, and we curled around the whole thing maybe a mile or so from it. We could see the runway clearly through the rain.
We were back in home territory now. The floor of the class B airspace above me was at three thousand feet but would drop to two before we got to Pearland, so staying down where I was made the only sense. While I couldn’t see the airport specifically, the area where I knew it was and where the GPS was pointing us looked clear, though I could see a cell raining down just to the south and wasn’t sure which way it was moving. Still, it looked good enough to press on in, so we followed the GPS across the city environs toward the CTSW’s new home.
Soon, I had the airport and its single runway in sight. I called our approach over the common traffic frequency and told of our intent to cross mid-field for a landing on one-four. We flew exactly that, rolling into a left bank to hit the downwind as we decelerated toward landing speed. I lowered the flaps to fifteen, dropped my approach speed back to sixty knots, and turned base. We landed about a third of the way down the runway, and I needed only a little braking to slow us down enough to turn off at the first exit, taxiway Bravo.
We taxied past the old familiar terminal building and down to the third row of hangars, turned right onto the short taxiway that led to ours, and then turned left to put the nose of the airplane just outside our hangar door. We ran through the shutdown checklist, safing the BRS, shutting down avionics, and then stopping the motor with a “clunk!” We were home! We had safely made the longest cross-country I had ever done in a general aviation aircraft, and in a light-sport at that! Since last Wednesday, we had covered fourteen hundred and fifty-two nautical miles, and we had gotten home just in time. As I crawled out and swung the airplane around to push it back into our hangar, we heard a crack of lightning and felt the first cool gusts of wind from a nearing thunderstorm. It was letting us know we were back in Houston once again.
No Comments »Back Into the Wilder Blue Yonder, Part 17
By Andy Foster | July 12, 2010
I smoothly pushed the throttle forward while using my feet to keep the nose pointed straight ahead as the little airplane zipped down the runway. Stick back at forty-two knots and we leaped into the air, climbing straight ahead, straight down the runway with only a little bump here and there as we did. At my usual three hundred feet, I popped the flaps up and rolled us left to find our courseline east as we watched the looping form of I-10 and the grey buildings of Fort Stockton beyond spin past.
Frankly, I was a puzzled that the takeoff had gone so smoothly. The wind was kicking us around as we climbed; had I taken off in a lull? That seemed to be the only explanation, but it really didn’t matter. For whatever reason, we had gotten off safely and without much struggle; and I was happy to be on our way.
While the sun was behind us now, it was still pretty hot; and our oil temps were headed toward the “yellow” as I held the nose up, keeping us slow and making us climb. The ground elevation was still about three thousand MSL, so climbing only to fifty-five hundred wasn’t going to give us any relief from the bumpiness. The winds were better as we went up, so I decided to go to seventy-five hundred and stop there. I was convinced we couldn’t climb the airplane high enough to get us out of the rough air, so taking advantage of the tailwinds was the only thing I could do. We were in a race, now; to stay legal, we had to be on the ground at Fredericksburg before the FAA’s definition of night, which I was interpreting to be the end of civil twilight. That time, fetched via the Internet from the US Naval Observatory and applicable for Fredericksburg, Texas, was written on my kneeboard and was the benchmark I was now flying against. Every few minutes, I would add the Estimated Time Enroute from the GPS to our current clock time to ensure we would be on the ground before the nighttime fell and add throttle as necessary to make sure it happened that way. We had only about ten to fifteen minutes to spare.
We watched as the desert slowly mutated from solid brown to a mixture of green and brown and eventually all green, as trees and vegetation replaced the sparse desert plants as we pushed east. We gazed at the rows and rows of wind turbines, occupying the flat tops of some plateaus like stiff, scattered hair follicles on an almost bald old man; and that despite their ecological purpose, formed the greatest eye-sores to destroy a desert landscape I had ever seen. We dodged scattered cumulus clouds as they floated overhead and past to avoid the predictable thumping and diving to recover altitude that the uplift under them would cause. We continued east, racing the night to Fredericksburg, determined to be the ones who got their first.
Soon, we were letting down in a cruise descent to the place. The airport was still a few tens of miles ahead, but I wanted the extra speed even a gradual descent could give us. As we passed other general aviation airport friends, we called our position, altitude and direction. We listened to a Grumman Cheetah pilot overfly an airport he was hunting for and turn around to find it and land; and conversed briefly, much to my surprise, with a gent who had also recently bought a CTSW and was flying it home.
The GPS was telling us that Gillespie County airport was less than ten miles ahead, but the visibility was down a bit and there were lots of trees so I couldn’t pick it out. We were just inside of five miles when I did; the runway’s lights were on and we were approaching it from a modified right base. We had hear no one in the pattern but I called again anyway, notifying the world of our intention to fly an angling straight-in approach to a full stop. I roared us in and didn’t slow down until within about a mile, when I dropped the speed back far enough to drop flaps to fifteen. We made our approach at sixty knots, and I was a happy man when we felt the contact and heard the chirp that told us we were on the ground.
I let the airplane roll past the terminal building, turning off in front of the Hangar Hotel and taxiing up to the parking spots laid out in front of it. A couple of gents were perched up on the hotel’s second floor porch to watch the goings on, but they said nothing as we shut down, got out, and tied the airplane down. I was tickled pink we had made it with about ten minutes to spare and was enjoying seeing the runway lights on.
We popped open the baggage compartment and dragged our bags out of the baggage compartments and lugged them inside the Hangar Hotel. We got a room up on the second floor and made our way to it, dead tired. It was not our first time at that fantastic place, so we knew that at night one often had to go into town to get something to eat. But neither of us felt like going anywhere, so we asked if there was some way to get food delivered to the hotel. It turned out that a pizza place would run out there, so we got its phone number and called them from our room at the hotel.
While we were waiting, I pulled out my MacBook Pro and used it to hook into the hotels’ Internet network. I ran the weather for the morning using ADDS and DUATS. The forecast was showing that a low ceiling was expected that would burn off between eight or nine a.m. We could then expect scattered to broken clouds with scattered thunderstorms as we approached mid-day. With Houston now only one two hour flight away, it certainly looked like we would be home tomorrow.
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