EAA AirVenture

Logging Virtual Flight Time at AirVenture

July 29, 2017 by Scott Spangler

One of the most frustrating aspects of getting excited while watching others fly, like the U.S. Navy Blue Angels, is not being able to immediately feed that emotional and physical craving. It figures that technology provided some relief with some virtual flight time in disparate aircraft at the EAA Innovation Center.

Having never before flown a gyroplane or replaced my glasses with virtual reality goggles, I didn’t know what to expect as I reached for the stick, throttle, and rudder pedals (which I slid forward on the floor—ah, legroom at last) of the PAL-V Liberty, a (three-wheel) car that flies and a (gyro) plane that drives.

When Dave started the simulation, which put me on Runway 18 at Wittman Regional Airport (OSH), my first impression was a very real case of spatial disorientation. I can’t remember the last time I had such a strong case of vertigo. I fought through it, following Dave’s instruction to hold the brakes, apply full power, and to hold a neutral stick when I released the brakes.

The steep climb angle—it’s normal, Dave said—only made my vertigo worse. While my eyes and inner ears argued with the seat of my pants, I looked around. Hey, there’s Lake Winnebago, and the four exhibit hangars. Where are all the people? But I must admit it was nice having the place to myself.

Pulling the power to idle abeam the numbers, I started a 180-degree turn to landing. Dave warned me to back off the bank angle a bit. Without any haptic feedback from the controls or the seat of my pants, it was nice to have the aural warning. As usual, I over controlled on final, but I managed to conclude my 2-minute virtual flight by landing to the left of centerline without breaking or bending anything. Removing the goggles, I sat there for a moment to let my eyes, ears, and sit-down parts reach consensus.

At the other end of the Innovation Center aisle was EAA’s powered paraglider simulator. These flying machines have long fascinated me, and I’d watched them fly early that morning, so a virtual flight was the last item on my AirVenture to-do list that needed a tick mark.

After scooting my butt all the way back into the harness, the sim operator pulled the Velcro strap on the throttle on my right hand. A lever like a bicycle hand brake, I’d squeeze it with my fourth and little fingers add power and climb. With my index and middle fingers I’d grab the toggle, which I’d pull to turn in that direction. All four fingers worked the left toggle, and pulling both of them simultaneously was like putting on the brakes.

Unlike all of the pilots who preceded me, I chose the Village Flight, not the Combat Challenge, because shooting at tanks and helicopters and towers would be a distraction. I was going to teach myself how to fly this thing—to climb, cruise, turn, and descend—during my virtual flight time of 90 seconds. The first view of the goggles explained the controls and showed what happened when you pulled the toggles. Cool!

I was just starting to slalom around the trees and buildings when the goggles went dark and the double-barreled fan-supplied slipstream died. But the virtual flight inspired me to seek out training in the real thing, and Google led me to the US Powered Paragliding Association.

Walking back toward Boeing Plaza I passed the Jack Link’s tent. In it, four people were sitting in a tandem-tandem facsimile of a cockpit, each wearing a helmet and virtual reality goggles with mirrored aviator sunglasses stuck on the front. I got in line and had an exiting aerobatic flight with John Klatt in the Jack Link’s sponsored Screamin’ Sasquatch Jet Waco.

The vertigo from my first virtual flight of the day did not return, probably because I was too busy “flying” the maneuvers with him, trying to remember my aerobatic training and where to look to guide the path of each maneuver. Snap rolls were interesting, but not as interesting as the jet powered flat (that’s what it looked like to me) spin. Happy after the multi-minute routine, they treated me to lunch, two samples of Jack Link’s beefsteak protein snacks, which is still jerky to me. — Scott Spangler, Editor

Back to the Future: EAA Innovation Center

July 27, 2017 by Scott Spangler

An AirVenture visit to the EAA Innovation Center is always worthwhile because you never know what you’ll find in its cool, air conditioned and dry interior. Some of the cooler technology was a 3D printer that was hard at work recreating what looked like the U.S. Capital Building (it had not yet started on a dome) and three opportunities to experience virtual reality on a motorcycle, in a powered paraglider, and a roadable gyroplane. (I’m going back tomorrow to try them all, if the lines aren’t too long.)

But this year it was back to the future in the post-war (that would be World War II) dream of the flying car and its cousin, the personal helicopter. Both were interesting projects, with the car drawing on existing technology. The helo was more interesting because it was a quadcopter for two, so it might have the edge on making it. What they have in common is a limited appreciation of the training and certification their customers will need to pull these things out of their garages and fly them.

The SureFly personal helicopter is a hybrid, with four arms and eight electric motors, each one turning its own fixed-pitch prop in contra-rotation to its arm mate. A gas engine turns two generators to power the props, with a lithium battery backup that provides 5 minutes of emergency landing power. And it has a ballistic parachute. With a target price of less than $200,000, the SureFly will carry two adults (and I fit in it!) to 4,000 feet at 70 mph, with a one-hour endurance. It is made almost entirely of carbon fiber, and it weighs 1,100 pounds empty, with a max takeoff weight of 1,500 pounds.

There were no controls in the cockpit, just a computer screen, so maybe the pilot punches in the address of his destination and the SureFly does the rest. Given Workhorse’s success with its HorseFly autonomous package delivery drone, which is fully integrated with its Workhorse battery-electric delivery vehicle, it might have found a path around the pilot certification hurdle. UPS and Workhorse successfully delivered packages using this system in 2017.

Detroit Flying Cars is making 21st century tracks on a journey started by Molt Taylor after World War II and culminated with the Aerocar’s first flight in 1949. Only six were built, and you can see one of them at the EAA Museum. Instead of folding its wings and turning them into a trailer, the Detroit Flying Car’s 26-foot wingspan telescopes in and out as needed. It’s an innovative approach to a universal flying car challenge. Another interesting aspect is that the left wing is mounted higher than the right, so in the retracted position, one is on top of the other in the car’s 16-foot-long fuselage or body.

Powered by a 100 hp internal combustion engine, the specs say it will cruise (in the air) at 125 mph for 400 miles. Made of carbon, it weighs 1,000 pounds empty and a maximum gross weight of 1,500 pounds. In an emergency, a ballistic chute is standard. It will carry two, and its wing loading is 12 pounds per square foot. On the road it’s an electric car that’s 6 feet wide and 6-foot-3 tall. It’ll run 50 miles on the battery and 400 miles with the engine recharging the battery.

The technology and innovation represented in both of these projects is inspiring, but it seems to me that until they figure out a way to surmount the hurdle of pilot certification, their efforts appear to be stillborn. If people are less than eager to invest more than six months and five figures to fly a fixed wing airplane that can be had for a fraction of the prices these projects will command, I don’t see much of a market for them. But maybe I’ve been in the sun and on my feet for too many hours this week, and I’m just not seeing things clearly. — Scott Spangler, Editor

Back Corners: EAA AirVenture Encore

July 30, 2016 by Scott Spangler

The EAA AirVenture grounds on the Wittman Regional Airport cover a vast area. It is a hike and a half to reach its back corners, but it is worth it because it is where the interesting airplanes seems to be. Take this skeletal Cub-like airplane made of aluminum, steel tube, and carbon fiber, which was among the other Valdez STOL aircraft at the south end in the Ultralight area.

It is called Lil’ Cub, and it was designed and built for one reason, to take off and land in the shortest possible distance. Light weight helps its achieve this goal. The wings have no end plates and, if you’re tall enough, you can look down them to the wing roots. The leading edge slats and Fowler flaps are made of carbon fiber.

Unlike other Cub-like airplanes, this one has but one seat. To keep the center of gravity in place, it wears a carbon fiber fuel tank like a backpack behind what passes for a cockpit. Bare tubes connect the tail feathers to the rest of the airplane. Maybe this airplane’s Momma was a Cub and its Daddy was a Bell 47 helicopter. That may be why it gets off and on the round in 50 feet, give or take a few depending on the wind. I didn’t get to see it fly, at least not in real time. EAA did a nice video on it, so that will have to suffice.

Way up north, in homebuilt camping, I came across this Breezy, an iconic Oshkosh airplane you don’t see very often. And this model is new construction! According to the prop card, it made its first flight in 2015, and the builder flew it to Oshkosh from New Smyrna Beach, Florida. Mentioning the airplane to a friend who also like to explore Oshkosh’s back corners, he met the pilot, who told him that it took some 20 hours and three or four days to make the trip in the no-cockpit airplane.

The theme here, it seems, is minimalism in aviation. And this GlaStar builder lived it for his week in Oshkosh. No fancy tent for him. Just a tarp over the wing, a short-legged cot to keep his sleeping bag off the grass, and a small fold-up table for his one-burner stove, lantern, and blue 2.5 gallon water jug. According to the prop card, he’d logged more than 1,000 hours in his homebuilt, and from the tautness of his tarp, it was clear this wasn’t his first campout. Curious to see how he fared with all the rain that greened up the Oshkosh grass at week’s end, I leaned in and then withdrew dry fingertips from his sleeping bag.

The good news is that a dome of high pressure is pegged to Oshkosh this Saturday morning, and pilots are taking advantage of it and heading for home. It’s about time for me to do the same. — Scott Spangler, Editor

Hump Day: EAA AirVenture Part 2

July 27, 2016 by Scott Spangler

When Mother Nature cooperates, Wednesday is traditionally the day that those who arrived at EAA AirVenture last weekend leave town, and those who will go home this coming weekend arrive. That sort of happened today, but Mom’s rainy tantrum demanded some modifications (and patience).

The good news is that the clouds lifted enough for the air show to happen, and the best part of it was the second flight of the Martin Mars. As it did on its first flight during Monday’s show, it dropped about 7,500 gallons of Lake Winnebago on the grass next to Runway 18/36 on Wittman Regional Airport. Fortunately, the woman in front of me didn’t need her umbrella.

The photographer, who apparently thought it would be a good idea to try and capture an image from directly under the Mars’ flight path, on the other hand… Whoever was narrating the drop noticed the shooter and exploded in honest laughter. The camera that fed the flight line jumbotron and zoomed in on the photographer who was wading through knee-deep water.

Unfortunately, I was otherwise occupied for Wednesday’s drop, but instead of using a photographer as an aiming point, they set off some pyro for the Mars to extinguish.

Wednesday’s changing of the guard is a good time to see what’s new in the four main exhibit hangars. Nothing jumped out at me except the half dozen hawkers that wanted to clean my glasses with their magic juice that not only cleaned my lenses but protected them from finger smudges and fogging. Most of them were in Hangar D, which is next to the Fly Market, and it must be the portal to inside exhibit space for these vendors.

Aviation vendors in Hangar D were far and few between, and this seems be a sign that the aviation industry continues to shrink. And we’re getting older. Roughly half of Hangar D’s East wall was a carpeted rest area lined with comfy chairs and love seats, and most of them were occupied. It was another reminder of my mortality, so I went in search of the next generation of aviators.

As expected, I found them at the Drone Cage at the EAA Gateway Plaza. What I did not expect was that the Drone Center was half the size of last year’s facility. Not only was it larger last year, it was filled with vendors, on Wednesday a year ago, it was it was just a few fish shy of sardine occupancy. This year there was room to roam with distraction with little chance of bumping into someone.

Going out the back door of the Drone Center led me to the Innovation Center, where I saw the coolest thing ever — the Wyp (pronounced whip) Aviation Wingboard. Think wakeboard for an airplane. Yup, an airplane. Wyp Aviation’s website has some interesting videos of its aerodynamic tests. Not that I’d every want to give it a try, but the Wingboard is still the coolest thing I’ve seen so far this year, after the Martin Mars in action, that is. — Scott Spangler, Editor

Zero Day: Before EAA AirVenture Starts

July 24, 2016 by Scott Spangler

Since 1970, when EAA moved its annual convention to Oshkosh, Wisconsin, it has tried starting the event on different days of the week. But finding a day that suits everyone’s schedules is an impossible task because there are really three different groups of participants. There are those who attend the first half of the show, others who arrive midweek for the second half, and the worker bees, the exhibitors and word merchants like me, who arrive early and leave after it is all over.

For all three, EAA has achieved the perfect start date: Monday. That allows everyone to travel the weekend before AirVenture begins, and Sunday is Zero Day, when exhibitors make their last push to get everything unloaded and set up before the the show starts on Day 1, Monday, July 25.

Everyone has their own Zero Day Ritual, and mine is checking into Press Headquarters to take one last look at the press conference schedule board, but mostly it is to say hi to Livy Trabbold. who’s been at the Press HQ counter for nearly a quarter century. I’m not a superstitious guy, but the two three less then stellar conventions always happened when I didn’t stop by to say hi to Livy before I started work. It is her bright, big smile that sets the right mindset for the week to come.

In the proper frame of mind, I set out to explore the field, to see what’s changed and what interesting airplanes have arrived. Given Mother Nature’s hot and humid and thunderstormerous tantrum last night, there were few airplanes on the field. Homebuilt parking was almost empty, as was Warbirds. The World War II reenactors, who rode out the storms in their cotton canvas tents were still soggy. Vintage parking was better populated, but random questions to people sitting under their wings revealed that most of them arrived before the storms. At the south end of the airport the ultralight folks were unloading their trailers under an overcast sky.

Working my way back to show center, I explored the outdoor exhibit areas. Unless you want to become one with a forklift, it’s good to keep your head on a swivel. And don’t stand in one place too long, or someone will give you a box to carry. And it may just be my imagination, but in watching everyone set up, it seems that the tie wrap (or zip tie) has replaced duck tape as the go-to fixit fastener. Most the the exhibitors have returned to their traditional AirVenture locations, but the two-story HAI tent that dominated Wittman Road, which parallels the flight line was gone. ONE Aviation, with its second-floor deck, occupied part of the space, and the NBAA tent was next door. And if anyone is looking for a long-term basket case, this Canadian Harvard was in the Fly Mart area.

Just after noon, the clouds started to thin and separate, and the airplanes started to arrive. I’ve been watching airplanes arrive for along time, and I always marvel at the steady efficiency of the flight paths. That seemed absent this afternoon. Maybe it was 36 hours of pent up eagerness caused by the weather, but the airplanes were all over the place. I don’t remember the last time I saw a go-around, but today I saw four in about 15 minutes. Standing next to some spectators with a radio listening to the tower, I had to walk away when I heard the tower controller’s voice go up an octave or two and the speed of his words increase by a factor of four. Order was restored several hours later, when the flight of 36 RVs came across in a neat formation and broke off in flights of four for their landing breaks with ordered precision.

But that’s the way it goes sometimes. Zero Day is for working out the bugs. When Vickers Aircraft didn’t shop up for its scheduled lunch and press conference (and not many member of the media showed up either, which is unusual when lunch is being served), I opted for some ice cream. It was a quickly melting leaning tower of soft serve the demanded immediate lingual alignment. Given the line behind me, the soft server will certainly improve with practice.

And so will the aircraft marshaling crew in Warbirds. This HU-16 Albatross was taxiing under its own power, until it was clear that its wing would not clear the tail double tail of the PBJ (B-25) out of the frame to the left, and this Air Force Cessna 310 now in the shade of its right wing. Ultimately, they made the right decision. They shut it down and called for a tug. On this Zero Day, Oshkosh certainly lived up the adventure half of its name. — Scott Spangler, Editor

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