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I soloed December 14th, 1974…

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stuntflyr

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Which was my 16th birthday. Being in an aviation family it was filled with drama because I wanted to be a rock and roll singer and had not been the best student. It was my sophomore year and also I’d been caught by a neighbor driving my car I’d bought from my mother for $600 hard earned bucks, before I was of age, the big drive being a cruise around the block to through water out of the little MGB’s wire wheels.

So the training in the Aeronca went on but no answer on a solo on my birthday but plenty of ‘no’ about my drivers license.

Then, dad told me to get in the car, we’re going to Orange County, which was not where the Chief was based. It was at Meadowlark. We drove out and he expounded on the virtues of study, organization, judgement, and we pulled up in front of executive hangar #29 at SNA. This is where our Staggerwing was hangared. I wondered what was up, it’s funny how thinking back kids really didn’t ask a lot of questions then, and parents often didn’t narrate what was to come like so many do today! I figured we were going to work on it, wipe it off, go somewhere to eat and talk more about these heavy issues, something like that.

“If you’re going to solo the Staggerwing we’re going to have to fly it a lot more.”
Well, that answers it. Since it was about two weeks ‘til my birthday I figured we’d be flying a lot and we did, about 8 hours over the next two weeks. We did a ton of pattern work and only left the pattern to go to Chino, which had no tower then, to get in more landings and he would do simulated engine failures to make me select a different tank, trouble shoot, find a field, etc.
One of the big deals also was whether to switch tanks on down wind and then switch back on final because the 29 gallon center tank would be almost exhausted after an hour of touch and goes and if I got spooked and couldn’t get down a couple of times I’d be close to out of gas. Or would swapping tanks be worse, could I forget to swap back and do a go around on a wing tank accidentally (which years later I used to do as a matter of course when giving dual in Bud Fuchs’ Beech at Staggerwing Airshows in St. Louis).

Anyway, I was all set on my birthday, the plan was to solo the Chief and then solo the Staggerwing later. Dad did a lot of my training but Joe Mortimore was my dad’s airplane business partner and my actual CFI, so he flew with me for a bit at Meadowlark and I rolled on some three pointers, one after a deep slip, and he laughed and told me to give him three like that and bring it back to the tie down. Oh yeah, there were no touch and goes allowed at Meadowlark! Everything was a taxi back.

The solo was fun and uneventful, no landing was as good as my first three, and I taxied back to the tie down ( remember when fabric airplanes tied outside?).

Then to Orange County… now I didn’t really know how this was going to go, Dad and Joe had a little talk to the side, I did know these guys were cheap airline pilots and had no hull insurance on these airplanes, the joke being if we wrecked them we were indentured servants forever even after the airplane was repaired. Were they joking?

Joe and I pre flighted as we briefed the flight, we would do three tail low three pointer style landings to a full stop if it wasn’t too busy, if busy they’d be touch and goes and the last a full stop, we’d use the big runway, and we’d leave the fuel selector on the main. I thought I was ready and climbed in , started up and taxied out. All went well but it was very busy, airliners were an issue but back then, but it was also the busiest GA training airport in the nation. I ran up, looking all around, at potential threats which was usually little airplanes sneaking into my blind spots and my being a skinny teen I swung from the bracing tubes way over to the right to see who was there, and in my head at my emergency landing spots around the airport. At last we were cleared for take off and I put it on the centerline and locked the tailwheel, ran it up a little and then pushed the power up to 36 and 2300. Off it went, with my and Joe and about 75 gallons with the main and two lower wings full, it had great performance. Turning crosswind with the gear up I reduced to 30 inches and rolled the rpm to about 2000 and leveled off and it just accelerated like a rocket up the back of a 310 in the pattern. “You know, he’s only going about 90!”, Joe shouted… no intercoms back then. I pulled the power back to 20 in and waited for the airspeed to decay, “less power!”, okay and I’ll turn out a bit, should I slip it?, what about the gear, no still too fast 115 is the limit and 100 is my limit!
Well, and so it went for 5 circuits and I finally got a rhythm down and started actually hearing and responding to the radio calls.
My Dad was in the tower taking movies and the controller said I was not responding sometimes, Dad told him that I was instructed to turn off the radio if I got too flustered and land full stop, so be prepared! He said the tower chief just nodded his head, understood.

So then it was time, Joe lowered the boom. “Those were great, take me in and we’ll do three more and we’re finished.” Okay, I landed full stop and used full length, and taxied back. As we came to the instructor’s gazebo he said, much to my utter relief, “It’s pretty busy today, why don’t I go with you and I just won’t touch anything?” So it was, I flew the flight like he wasn’t there, I got yelled at on the radio a little, I wasn’t in my best rhythm, but Joe just sat there.
See, this Staggerwing was bone stock Navy, single yoke, no brakes on the right, these guys were disgustingly brave just checking me out, so I knew I was under extensive scrutiny anyway… but I also knew I was flying that ole Staggerwing myself! Sure, big debrief after but it was all me. So on my last approach I tried so hard to hit all of the cardinal points, look organized with the procedures and power management, be on speed before we got to the runway, and I got my first skipper!

The Skipper. When I started landing it I was about 12 and I would touchdown too flat and fast and it would come back off the ground, I learned to add a bit of power and let it slow down a little and touch down again more nose high and then it would be in that perfect tail low attitude it liked to stay on, and then I’d pull the power and start the directional fight.

Well after all of these landings I was back to my little kid stuff, I couldn’t believe it. But what could I do? There I was, fix it! I held my hand on the vernier throttle so the palm had the button push all of the time and so it could move it like a plain knob, so I added a couple of inches, and started raising the nose as she settled to a perfect three pointer, ‘Don’t blow it now’ I thought, and put all thoughts of making the mid field turn off, that where a little more brake than usual could bite me, let it roll.
“Want to make the high speed?” , Joe finally says… I didn’t even speak, or move, just kept it going straight with no brakes as long as I could.

We taxied back to the hangar and soon all were assembled and I was a little disappointed because they didn’t let me go myself. Joe assured me I could’ve done it and if we were at Chino, he would have. But he said my last landing was the best because I fixed the bounce and was absolutely into flying my airplane on plan with no changes or distractions altering my flight. After that I was much happier.

So 50 years ago I soloed our old Aeronca Chief and according Dad and Joe and my logbook I soloed the old Staggerwing too.

Chris…
 
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