Mixed Success

The morning was warm, the wind less than ten knots though varying in direction, the strip awash with people and aeroplanes and cars looking for space.

Best of all I finally had an instructor lined up – said instructor in fact being the chap whose name and squiggle appears on the cover page of the POH for the X’Air!

The sheep were out again and I joined the effort to relocate them – they’d gone both under and over the allegedly-electric fence this time!

Never mind giving me the eyeballs you – just get off the blooming runway!

What could possibly go wrong…

It was interesting to do the walkaround of the aircraft with someone who knew the type so well and I learned a few extra details and things to check (vent on the back of the fuel pump, and the fact the tyre pressure is actually part of the mechanics of the suspension).

It was also interesting to hear some of the changes made to the X’Air to satisfy the BMAA once they started being imported (and that just after the introduction of Section S).

The jury strut horizontally between the two main struts is a British addition to increase the tolerance to negative G, but it then interfered with the natural twist of the wing in flight (which used to cause a sort of natural washout), which made it somewhat unstable in pitch.  That was compensated for by adding a bit of reflex to the ailerons which as a side effect added 5 knots to the cruise airspeed…  Fascinating display of engineering knock-on effects!

The flaps meanwhile, are almost a paperwork exercise – there to bring the nominal stall speed down by a princely 6 knots from 38 to 32 thus nipping in under the 35 knot limit for a microlight!  (Though both stages really does steepen the approach – a lot)

After watching the flurry of departures and over a cuppa we sat down to discus what we wanted out of the day and, for my benefit, went through a sort of “microlights for group-A pilots” brief as well as the discussion of “I know it’s not loggable but how many hours have you really flown it?”

I went first, with Guy flying the first 20 minutes or so to discover any particular foibles of Rhubarb as opposed to any other X’Air.  (She does have a few we discovered – dropping the left wing consistently in when stalled in certain configurations of flap and power).  Then we started on the training proper.

Steep turns I’m fairly comfortable with in the X’Air now and I bounced us through our own wake on the first demo, leading Guy later to comment that I seemed to have used by time “productively” in the aircraft…

Stalls I hadn’t really done but are so startlingly undramatic that they weren’t too challenging – she really will just sit there with full back stick wallowing about and sinking but not really doing much of anything else at all.

Back at the strip my main offence was not getting setup and trimmed early enough to have a stable approach.  This usually (and yes I’m acutely aware it’s an repeat offence!) ended with me being high and fast and/or well off the centreline.

Neither landing we did was as neat as my attempt the previous week annoyingly.

I was also picked up on an non-aircraft-specific issue of lookout – a useful reminder of why it’s a good idea to have an instructor along occasionally regardless of specific training needs.  When concentrating on something else lookout is one of the things that does tend to go by the by.

More practice on that was lined up for after lunch (picnic outside the hut!) while Clive took his turn and I chased a rogue sheep off the runway. (The third of the day!)

Clive and Guy returned – Clive with broadly the same issues, of ending up too high.  Perhaps those cables are radiating anti-grav not just carrying electric…

It was after another cuppa we hit the snag of the day.

I’d started up, on second attempt – after a bit of experimenting with choke and throttle for the warm-to-hot-ish state of the engine, and was doing the checks when on the left mag cough splutter I gave Guy a startled glance.

“That’s not normal!”

I repeated the checks on both leaving it a bit longer with on off (I have been guilty in the past of just flicking them rather than waiting to see what the drop actually is) and this time on the left it was cough splutter dead.

Fantastic.

Actually the word I used was a different one…

“That needs a look then.”  I switched everything off and clambered out.

Nick headed to the car for the toolbox and we talked through the problem.

Spark plugs came out and, though looked visually fine, were swapped over.  Same issue.

All right – check cheapest possibilities first…

A multimeter was borrowed from Andy and, being the littlest, I went in behind the panel head first to test the switches.  Not dignified – laid half across both seats with my feet hanging out over the strut and my head and shoulders laying on the cockpit floor (I needed both hands so couldn’t support myself!)

Not that.

More discussion and I learned that what I’ve been thinking of, and calling, “left mag / right mag” are actually part of an electronic ignition system known as DCDI (Dual Capacitor Discharge Ignition).  Two CDI units   fire two spark plugs each, one in each of the two cylinders.

They’re positioned front and back and no one knew which left/right switch was front and back so the next step was pulling leads of and trying it with the upshot that the final diagnosis was either the frontmost CDI had popped it’s clogs or that the associated wiring had.

Wiring is cheaper – that first!

But tracing cables is slow so with regret we said goodbye to the instructor, cursed our luck to have a tech problem on the best flying day of the year so far and pushed the aircraft back to her spot to investigate further.

And there perhaps we’ve found the problem – some distinctly underspec crimping in the connectors from the engine to the airframe / instruments was in evidence.  At least one cable was finger loose and pulled from its connector.  Two more actively fell from their connectors as we pulled at cables to move things to a workable position.

Can it be that cheap a fix?  Here’s hoping…

Hands on…

Well the rain has tested my drain digging efforts and happily they’ve not been found wanting…

Which is just as well as I’ve certainly done more digging of holes than flying lately.

Last week’s annual leave was mainly spent jumping up and down ineffectually on spade and fork and, in extreme cases, pickaxe!  But at least now we do have a hangar floor and not a paddling pool.

Most of this was done during the spell of perishingly cold, dry, windy weather which would take the skin right off you face – I got home one night after doing post holes with my hair full of blown postcrete dust and convinced than the moment I stepped in the bath to boil my poor aching bones I’d have a very permanent set…

Slabs have been laid but we’ve some more of that to do to make ourselves a little ‘patio’ for pulling of the aircraft – then we need to figure out how to join that onto the hill…  At the moment the poor little machine has to get up a step first which takes three people.

There are compensations though – after one particular day’s slog, the wind finally dropped and there was the most glorious, still sunset to take off into and twirl around the deserted beach with never a ripple from the Welsh to Devon shores or climbing high to fly steep, tight turns that bounce us off our own wake.

We’ve had lots of help too.  From friends popping up to help dig who’ve worked like troopers, to those from the already completed hangars further up the hill fetching down cups of tea, to the shared labour with the hangar-next-door there’s been a lovely community feel about the whole affair.

And while we dug and sawed and drilled, Nick prepared the aircraft for her permit renewal.

Hangar Building and Permit Prep

The following day, with Nick not available, it was the first time I’d started the aircraft alone and, bar forgetting to switch the auxiliary electrics on (spotted because the water temp really ought to have come up by now oughtn’t it…) it was all very straightforward even with my utter lack of experience operating two stroke engines.

The permit itself was a quite, quite different affair from what I was used to over in the CoA world – a few hours scrutiny and a short to-do list.

Where was the massive bill?  Where were the tiny parts that cost a fortune in labour and paperwork?  What was this “Sort that, that and that and I’ll fly it and sign it off’?

I’m liking this microlighting business…

Not so much the wind and rain that have presented that check flight mind you, but on the whole!

We did the immediate to-dos (a perished exhaust mount we’d missed, a coolant bottle bracket we knew about but had hoped would pass, a length of spi-wrap we’d forgotten to rewrap after dealing with the battery cables a while ago).

A push to the hangar building front was those items on the list which are a symptom of being outdoors – wear to the trailing edges of the wings from the covers, the whisper of the start of corrosion here and there.

Back to it!

Mud, Hangars and a Flit in a Skyranger

Having pegged out the hangar plan (with such ‘success’ that I used it as an example on the work blog to my learners of a real life project!), I was occupied those same learners as the upright went up courtesy of Nick and Clive but back in the thick of it for the start of the levelling.

We were going to leave this until later but discovered that in our new spot further down the hill, where it’s steeper, it’s become a complete sod to move the aircraft with fewer than two people as she fights to roll back down into the hedge and/or sit on her tail.  This wasn’t much of a problem until the uprights went in which, since we are effectively building on the spot we’re parked on made every movement a right peril to the wingtips.

So a level inside and bit of flat standing outside is called for to make moving around by hand on the ground less hairy.

Saturday was forecast with dry spell so we began…  To my mild surprise it was only a six inch difference across the width of the middle section of the interior from top to bottom.

To my greater surprise was quite how much mud that equated to!  And mud it was, especially after the first shower, during which we retired for lunch only to return to a brand new water feature…

Margam’s new water feature

Erm, yes, I’ve stopped digging to take photos…

We got it maybe half done before the heavens opened!

Meanwhile in one of the dry windows Nick had swapped the carb rubbers on the engine and flown a brief test flight before the downpour so the aircraft and covers were soaked too.

Urgghh.  We put everything away as best we could (during which I fell straight into a waterfilled posthole up to my knees!) and dripped our way home!

Sunday was glorious weather-wise but with the ground still sodden we gave digging a miss.

I was prompted by the outbreak of spring to dust off, re-oil and fettle the pushbike and try out the alternative route to the strip (Train to Pyle then mostly cycle path).  Good grief I’m unfit!

Being a little folding number, the bike’s not exactly built for the farmyard either but freewheeling down the hill to the parking spot was fun!

I peeled off the damp covers and spread everything out on the grass to dry before mopping water out of the various places it had gathered even inside the cockpit.

Satisfied I’d done as much as possible to dry things out I left Rhubarb basking in the sun and wandered in search of company for a cuppa.

Drip Drying

Several people were up and flying, and John arrived back in his Skyranger with his 90+ uncle along – who prompted impressed the life out of me by explained what he was going to do with all the photos he’d taken in Photoshop!

John got the kettle on and after another cuppa suggested a flit in the SKyranger.

I’d not flown the type before and never turn down flying in any case so he prepped while I scuttled up the hill to re-hoist the windsock.

Maybe I’m just used to Rhubarb now, or perhaps my legs are getter shorter but it seemed a bit scrabbly hop to climb up into the Skyranger.  I went through me usual massive shortening of harness while John started up.

It doesn’t hang about, that aeroplane of his!  Bit heavier than Rhubarb but with a 912 up front we surely didn’t use any more runway and the rate of climb pipped us too!

We stooged about a while, before John demonstrated his alternative approach into the strip, keeping close and tight inside the wires.  Neat, and so very quick to stop on landing.

Tight left base inside the wires

Nice aeroplane.

After the next landing John suggested we swap places for me to have a fly so a quick changeover on the ground and away we went again.  Trusting chap, given I haven’t even landed the X’Air at the strip all that often or without Nick following through.

Like the X’Air the main thing that caught be out and needed prompting or a nudge was quite how quickly the speed goes away on taking the power off.

First attempt was tidy-ish, second less so, but nothing to alarming!

Good stuff, but fuel was coming to the end of what was sensible and it was time to put things to bed.

Lovely day – lazy but passed off as productive and got some flying in…  Very typical of the pace of life at Old Park!

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Winter flying

For the first time in far too long I’ve been slow updating here not for lack for flying but for an excess!

Early darkness and murky vis have kept most of the flits local and I’ve still to pin down an instructor for the differences sign off but most weekends have involved at least a brief escape from the ground.

A combination of weather, availability and and schools’ apparent business model of prioritising regular ab initio students’ timetabling over ad hoc training reached it’s most frustrating  point on Saturday morning with another cancellation on the best flying day for weeks.

I was soothed though by a winter-rare land-away to visit the newly reopened cafe at Swansea (Go!) where everyone was in very good spirits and feeling positive.

Prettiest castle on Gower between the struts!

Shadow of an X’Air

I landed on the ample runway, firmly but not badly and am starting to incline to the point of view put forward by a number of people that I should forget the training stage – practise landing with anyone who knows the aircraft and’ll sit with me, instructor or no, and then just get an examiner in once I feel confident.

Wavering between caution and frustration I still don’t know if that’s the best plan or not.

It was refreshing to land away though, albeit only the next airport over – We ere recognised and snapped on the way home too!

I’m assured this was taken with 10x optical zoom and we weren’t really ALL that low

On the way back we met up with a flexwing from the strip and had a bit of companionable flying around the beach!

Meanwhile, back on the ground we’ve started on hangar building – under the direction of Clive the most organised of the group!

We arrived full of good intentions to put post holes in, new spade and all, to discover that the even more organiser builder of the next hangar over was renting a hole making device that would vastly speed the process up.

We agreed to share it and bailed on the digging at once!  I went for a walk up Graig Fawr instead, and spent the next flight looking for the little ruined church I’d ‘discovered’ on the way – only to be thoroughly dismayed that it wasn’t nearly as far up the hill as I’d imagined slogging up there!

The sky’s a funny colour…

The sky’s gone a strange blue colour but gloves still needed!

After three weeks of alternating snow and rain we only needed a small amount of paddling to reach the field..

Like an utter star Rhubarb started straight away (after a judicious inspection of the carb bowls for water) and positively leapt into the air.

For all the sunshine on the ground the temperature dropped off quickly with altitude and at two thousand feet it was cold enough to see your breath so it was back down to play at the beach – with Nick out to thoroughly disprove a passing comment by another flyer that the ‘F’ version of the X’Air doesn’t turn as promptly as the ‘normal’ one.

The only thing to be done was a due and proper amount of hooning around to thoroughly dispel such slander…

Everyone was out flying today and after some precautionary chitchat we were joined by a QuikR (QuickeR-than-us…) flexy.

A few snaps then he accelerated away back to the field, leaving us to dive after him, vainly resisting the urge to shout dakadaka at his tail before we were outrun.

The sunshine had brought lots of people out and above and we spent almost as much time gossiping as flying!

Nice to get out in the sun – and there was still just a little bit of light when we left this time so perhaps spring won’t be too long behind with longer days to stretch our wings…

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First flight(s) of the year

With the rubbish weather over Christmas, I’d not visited the field since before the holidays – apart from a sally up to the field to fit a newly re-crimped battery cable (recrimped courtesy of a 50p part from Halfords and me leaping up and down on the crimper – I’m loving all this simple stuff that doesn’t need CAMOs and similar clobber!)

Made up for it this weekend though, spending all day both Saturday and Sunday over at the strip where the Rhubarb crew were once again where the first to raise and last to lower the windsock.

Saturday we contemplated going across to Kemeys Commander (a new one for me), but low cloud on the hills kept us local.  Weather and instructor availability still haven’t managed to line up for my sign off so, while I fiddled about trying to get the descent profile right without getting utterly fixated on the wires,  Nick looked out the window, occasionally offering useful comments – generally on the subject of how much rudder the thing needs.

Which is a lot.  To the point I almost am convinced everyone should learn to fly first in something which really demonstrates for real all those details about adverse yaw you read about in the PPL tech exams and which have been carefully engineered out of the aircraft the odds are you actually learn on…

Something of a crosswind at the strip (as usual – it’s north/south while the prevailing wind is south-westerly) which wasn’t helping so we shoved off to the local area for me to do a few imaginary approaches aiming at fields, hilltops and beaches.  I do need to do a few circuits somewhere more ‘normal’ than Old Park to get familiar with the aircraft.  I’m being super cautious at the moment.  Nick though demonstrated neatly how with such a titch of a machine you can actually approach turning comfortably inside the wires and still have room to get set up and land neatly.

Sunday was a demonstration of how easily the weather forecast can get you!  Almost identical on paper bar a 180 swing of the wind but much worse vis and lower cloud.  Again we stayed local and Old Park appeared to be a world of its own with Swansea, a spell down the coast, fogged in.

More local flying, some sensible practice handling and some larking about!   (Quite a lot of the latter actually!

Met a few more of the based pilots and deposited a quantity of left over Christmas  sweeties as a donation to the cabin coffee supplies (though we ate quite a lot of them ourselves truth be told!).  Clive came over and flew as well and we did a couple of minor maintenance tasks of the ‘tightening cable ties and sloshing ACF around’ nature as well as giving the aircraft a good scrub.

This caused a few raised eyebrows and I suppose it is a bit of a losing battle outdoors in midwinter (hangar planning was also on the day’s agenda!) but the aircraft was looking far too sorry for herself and needed the TLC and looks lovely for it!

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End of year logbook flicking

I thought I hadn’t done much this year – and looking objectively at the hours logged alone (just under 20) that’s true.  I logged the first of those in May, hadn’t done enough hours come July to review my SEP by experience.

It feels like more somehow though – the logged hours don’t reflect all the ride alongs, or any of the recent half-jaunt-half-practice trips in the X’Air for one thing.

They don’t reflect the frantic concentration and mixed frustration and elation of the tailwheel time that began the flying season this time around.

I do put brief notes in the boxes for some trips and “Rally.  Troy.  Overnight” is just enough to bring back all the amusement at watching my little nephew handling a club Tomahawk completely unfussed by the fact the  turbulence over the hills was rattling both our teeth at the time.  Or the telling ghost stories (The Headless Pilot of Sywell Aerodrome…) in the tent with the silhouettes of tails and wings  just visible in the torchlight.

“Hwb” reads another box – but the half hour logged there, flown to sneak in a quickie before Swansea closed for the evening doesn’t include the waffling on at a Welsh language telly crew – burbling in muddled over-enthusiastic learnerish Welsh about aeroplanes.

Some comments are just a passenger name.  ”Steve” says one of them and that’s the student pilot who introduced me to the bloke whose delightful little flying machine I now own a share of.

Nope – the logbook doesn’t tell the story properly at all…