Pilots trained in the last 30 or 40 years may not
ever have learned the skills necessary for flying a tailewheel airplane.
Taildraggers require you to wake up those ''dead'' feet and really feel the
rudder pedals. Michael Maya Charles teaches some new tailwheel pilots in this
month's As The Beacon Turns column.
By Michael
Maya Charles
Columnist
A neighbor bought a brand-new
Decathlon recently and asked me to provide tailwheel training for him and his
partner. One of the men had a very brief affair with a Cessna 140 back when
Elvis was still making records and had mostly flown light twins and turboprops
since. His partner's couple-hundred hours flying time was almost all in the
ubiquitous Cessna 172. Each came to the task intent on doing whatever it took
to become a good tailwheel pilot. They were motivated to learn both the big
picture stuff and the niggly nuances; they were the kind of students that every
instructor would kill for.
The pilot who
delivered the shiny red Decathlon to the new owners had given each partner a
basic introduction to the aircraft before he left with a smile and a big check.
When I picked up the baton, each partner was somewhat familiar with the
machine, though it was obvious that we had some work to do to wake up their
feet.
|
|
|
|
Anyone
who says it's not any more difficult to fly a tailwheel airplane than a
tricycle probably hasn't flown a taildragger. The typical GA taildragger has lighter
wing loading, is more responsive to wind, has a CG and mass in the wrong place
at times and demands more (correct) pilot input. Tailwheel airplanes require
that you fly them with all of
the controls, especially the rudders and tailwheels. Does this make you a
better pilot? That debate will rage until the last taildragger's bones are
pushed over the cliff behind the hangar, but I'm quite sure that tailwheel
flying makes you a more aware
pilot. Tailwheel pilots tend to be more aware of the wind, more aware of their
aircraft and more aware of the control inputs required to be fully engaged in
flying. You can't fake awareness.
I fly tailwheel
airplanes with my shoes off to increase awareness and to better feel the rudder
pedals/bars. Though in my little Cub there just isn't much room for clunky
shoes in the narrow confines between the fuselage and the front seat frame, the
Decathlon has more room for your feet, especially up front. But I still prefer
the feel of feet against the rudder pedals or rudder bars. My students tried
barefoot flying on our first lesson and adopted it immediately.
To be fully aware,
to really feel what is going on in the aircraft, you must learn to relax. When
you are tense, you just can't feel the subtle changes in g-force that announce
right and wrong rudder usage. It's best to be settled lightly into the
seatback, but not braced stiffly against it.
For most new
tailwheel pilots there is a lot more rudder fanning than necessary on takeoff
and landing. This is caused by stiff leg muscles and tension, a lack of
relaxation. Better to look down the runway a bit more, and aim the airplane
towards that point while reminding yourself to relax. And breathe!
|
|
|
|
Tailwheel
taxiing is best learned without brakes. We use power instead of brakes to
regulate speed, and learn to judge subtle changes in the gradient of the ramp
and taxiways that will dictate your use of power. I always find that a pilot
who taxis at 1800 RPM while dragging the brakes just isn't aware. It's also
hard on brakes, tires and prop tips.
Taxiing
taildraggers is also the time we learn how to properly place the flight
controls for wind, something that is largely ignored in the tricycle birds
until the wind really howls.
Learning anything
new requires new underpinnings, a new foundation to be built. For tailwheel
flying, that foundation includes getting acquainted with those cute little
footrests on either side of the stick. The new partners and I flew north along
the Front Range, doing gentle turns: left-right-left-right-left-right. First a
slip, then a skid, then ... ah ... that's better. "Feel that? Let's make
another turn like that one!" I coach.
Sure, they could
stare at the drunken turn-coordinator ball in front of them but I wanted them
to feel the difference between
coordinated and uncoordinated. I asked both pilots to close their eyes to feel
coordinated and uncoordinated turns while I flew the airplane.
We did a lot of
dutch rolls, though sitting in the back of a tandem airplane while a pilot
first sorts out the proper pressures required isn't much fun. I hadn't done or
ridden through any akro for a while and my tender tummy's limit was a couple
dozen before I became very
interested in doing something else. Belch.
Flying these simple
airplanes is largely about attitude -- making the picture in the windshield
look like you want it. Even though this Decathlon has a full gyro package, a
Garmin GNS 530, TIS and plenty of cool things to stare at while you fly,
attitude is the bedrock for this kind of flying.
|
|
|
|
There
are many ways to take off and land a tailwheel airplane, and it's essential not
to get too wrapped around the rudder post about "my" or
"the" way; rather, it's more important to have a reason and basis for
each thing that you choose to do. For example, is it better to wheel land or
three-point? It depends. Is it better to come off the ground in a three-point
or wheel attitude? It depends. Should you make all approaches power-off or with
partial power? You guessed it: It depends. What works well in one type of
aircraft or in one type of situation is often just the thing that will get you
into trouble in another. Remember: It depends.
Of course, if you
choose one of these things at the wrong time in a taildragger, you may just
need Depends.
It's important to
learn all of the techniques so that each of these well-polished tools is in
your quiver when you reach for it. To say one or the other is the
"best" just doesn't recognize the highly dynamic world of tailwheel
flying.
|
|
|
|
Developing
centerline discipline is crucial in the early stages of tailwheel takeoffs and
landings. Sure, there are times when you want to ignore the centerline and use
the whole runway, landing on one side or the other to avoid prairie-dog holes,
wet spots or whatever -- even times when you will chose to land across the runway to reduce crosswind
component -- but the rest of the time you need to be aware of exactly where the
centerline (or center of the runway, if the surface is grass or dirt) is, and
make your aircraft straddle it. That simply gives you more options, and more
room for ol' Murphy.
The Decathlon has
no flaps so the secret to wheel landings is to fly a little faster to keep the
airplane's tail from settling. Again, the picture through the windscreen is the
important thing. We talked about and I demo'd the "tweens" attitude,
where the aircraft is neither firmly on the main wheels nor decidedly in the
three-point attitude; it's just in-between. Most tailwheel airplanes don't like
the tweens and some get downright ornery, sometimes darting for the runway
lights, the woods, or the t-hangars at the sides of the runway if the pilot doesn't
make a choice and transmit that choice firmly and clearly to the controls. It's
best to avoid the tweens in tailwheel airplanes unless you want to start land
tours of the airport or practice ground looping.
Part of the reason
for new tailwheel pilots tending to get the airplane in the tweens attitude is
fear of a prop strike. Most pilots are understandably wary of getting that big
machete too close the runway on landing until they know how much clearance they
have. So before the first lesson, we hoisted the airplane up by the tail and
touched the prop to the ground to demonstrate the ugly nose-down attitude
required to get a prop strike. If I have lifting help, I try to demo this with
the student in the seat because the picture through the windscreen is one that
they will never forget. In nearly every case, the prop strike zone is a lot
farther nose-down than they think -- but don't forget to leave a little more
room for gear flex when landing hard.
The three-point
landing is one way of landing slowly without a lot of finesse. Flare ...
establish an attitude ... wait ... land-and hold it on the runway. There are
times when the three-point is the better choice; i.e., on soft ground, or when
making full-stall landings in aircraft without flaps. For many pilots, this is
the default mode, but they are missing the potential of their aircraft by
making such a mono-choice.
|
|
|
|
As
we flew together, the partners eventually began to learn where each of the
Decathlon's three wheels were, when they would touch down, and how to control
the airplane in a whatever wind they encountered. They learned to fly the airplane
right into the landing and through the takeoff, to put the airplane where they
wanted it, not to simply be along for the ride. The Decathlon began to talk to
them -- and they were listening.
As my charges
slowly relaxed with this new machine, their perceptions improved, their
awareness improved -- and their flying improved. They began to fly more
smoothly and ... more coordinated. Yes, they became better pilots.
There are fewer and
fewer tailwheel pilots left in our shrinking aviation world, and that's
unfortunate because polishing your flying skills in a taildragger is a great
way to become a more aware pilot. I know at least two happy Decathlon owners
who will attest to that.