The Douglas DC-3, also known as the “Gooney Bird,” has become a pop-culture icon. You know what it looks like, even if you don’t know you do. Its 1935 art-deco image is used on greeting cards, desk clocks, and travel Web sites the world over.
When you say “Super DC-3,” most pilots assume you mean turboprop conversions of the Douglas DC-3. “Super DC-3,” or DC-3S, refers to a small number of the 10,655 DC-3s produced, that were remanufactured by Douglas, beginning in 1949. New regulations for transport aircraft planned in 1942 promised to ground the entire DC-3 fleet in 1948. Douglas envisioned converting existing DC-3s into a better performing airplane for postwar airlines, capable of complying with the new rules. After considering the DC-3s safety record, and the economic impact of grounding the fleet, a “grandfather clause” was written in, to accommodate these flying giants.
The continued availability of military surplus Gooney Birds and the high cost of the conversion scuttled airline demand for the Super 3. Douglas' biggest Super 3 customer was the military. The U.S. Navy had 100 of their R4Ds (Navy C-47 / DC-3) converted to Super 3s, and designated R4D-8. The Super 3 is a very different airplane than the original DC-3, requiring a different type rating (the pilot’s license for each aircraft above 12,500 lbs). The fuselage is lengthened, a different wing reduces the span from 95 to 90 feet, the vertical tail is taller, and the horizontal tail span is increased. Different engine nacelles with gear doors fully enclose the retracted main wheels, and the tailwheel is retractable.
The prototype used 1,450-hp 14-cylinder Pratt & Whitney R-2000s, but Douglas decided on 1,475-hp 9-cylinder Wright R-1820 Cyclone engines instead. With power increased from the DC-3’s 1,200-hp per side, the max. gross weight also increased to 31,000 lbs. from the postwar civilian DC-3’s 26,900 lbs.
Recently I had the pleasure of riding the jump seat in a Super DC-3 operated by TransNorthern Aviation, from Anchorage to Fairbanks. Our load consisted of 5,933 lbs. of pre-Christmas packages for UPS. Director of operations Patrick Ackerlund was our captain, and Robert Hubbard, director of quality assurance for maintenance on the Super 3, also a type rated captain, flew as co-pilot. We de-iced on the Anchorage UPS ramp in the December morning darkness. As Patrick started the first engine, the hydraulic system came alive and the accumulator in front of my jump seat began making sounds like a factory. When clearance delivery asked if we could comply with the climb gradient, Robert said, “They must think we’re a round tail.”
Aviation companies have committed the research and development dollars to spark innovation that the automotive industry won’t pay for. The breakthroughs from aircraft research labs will lead the way in alternative fuels for both species of machinery, even if they haven’t got two dimes to rub together. “People are well aware of how important this is to the public sector, even if there is no money to build refineries. So we'll see how it all goes,” remarks Stan Seto, chair of the ASTM International Subcommittee on Aviation Fuels. Since Dec. 7, 2008, the international standards-setting body responsible for quality and safety has been on the fast track to approving the sale of synthetic fuels. By June, qualified producers could be turning coal and natural gas, and eventually any carbon-based feedstock, into a drop-in kerosene substitute through a 70-year-old process called Fischer-Tropsch. It’s won’t be few billion dollars, but hundreds of billions, even trillions of dollars to build the massive infrastructure to quench the enormous thirst of the world’s vehicles. 
Though Fischer-Tropsch fuels appear to be kerosene’s successor for the world’s jets, replacements for avgas remain a mystery. Just last May, a significant consensus was reached to at last undergo the painful transition away from leaded avgas. With that agreement from the board of the General Aviation Manufacturers Association, OEMs are weighing new engines or modifications along with new airframe design needs and scrutinizing every possible fuel alternative. The presence of 100 LL (for low lead) avgas is dwindling worldwide and in the U.S., the Environmental Protection Agency has issued its first of many new regulations to force change. And a lawsuit from the environmental group Friends of the Earth-which, contends that 30 years of exceptions for 100 Low Lead avgas is enough,-is accelerating that timeline and engine manufacturers are dusting off century-old research to approach fuel creation anew. 
High-performance piston aircraft that need the high octane to operate are no more than 30 percent of the fleet, but they’re the top sellers and burn 80 percent of the avgas. The more modest majority of the fleet doesn’t need octane-boosting lead. “There have been different kinds of engines developed, but the greatest challenge in terms of an unleaded fuel is our existing fleet of aircraft,” states Walter Desrosier, vice president of engineering and maintenance for the General Aviation Manufacturers Association. “I do believe that there’s going to be a significant shift in emphasis from research to development and implementation,” he adds. One conversion process spawned at Purdue University may be the magic replacement for avgas. It’s called Swiftfuel, and so far it has passed all of the strict tests. Its creators claim it to be clean and cheap, and just recently the industry’s scientists agreed how to measure the eco-impact of fuels used today and tomorrow. They’ve defined their approach to assessing greenhouse gasses from “well to wake.” says Rich Altman, executive director of the Commercial Aviation Alternative Fuels Initiative (CAAFI), says “It’s a very definitive approach that we’ll be able to take. As we achieve success with certification and quantification of greenhouse gas analysis methodologies, the development of production and distribution infrastructure has become a high priority.”
Erie Municipal Airport (KEIK), which sits just north of Denver, Colo., is the new home of The Spirit of Flight Center, which displays hundreds of rare aviation artifacts representing all aspects of the flight experience from WWII war birds shot down in battle to the latest in corporate aviation. Curator Gordon Page also runs War Bird Recovery, an organization that works to recover and restore historical military aircraft globally. Many of Page’s amazing finds make their way into the museum along with their fascinating rediscovery stories.

Most flight metrics look at how much weight a certain aircraft can lift. In the world of parachutes, however, it is all about how much weight can be dropped. New Jersey-based parachute manufacturer Airborne Systems recently completed a test drop of 18,000 lbs. from 17,500 MSL using a modified ram-air chute. Using GPS guidance, the chute can be steered to a specific location and by employing a modular system that allows for the addition of airfoil sections (up to a total of five), Airborne’s GigaFly parachute will allow for loads reaching 42,000 lbs. At max load bearing capacity, the parachute’s wingspan will rival that of a Boeing 747--nearly 200 feet.
Myth: Birds can not bring down an airplane
Reality: Yes, they most certainly can
“Mayday,” says a remarkably calm voice on the flight recorder. One second later, connecting to ATC, that same calm voice states, “Ah, this is Cactus 1549. We hit birds. We lost thrust in both engines. We are turning back toward La Guardia.” Just 90 seconds into the flight, crossing 3,000 feet, US Airways flight 1549 intercepted what NTSB investigators called “primary targets” that did not show up on the radar. With a series of loud thuds, both engines stalled immediately. “We’re going to be in the Hudson,” was the last communique to ground control from Capt. Chesley Sullenberger that day. “Brace yourself for impact,” was his last statement to the 154 other people on board. And barely five minutes after takeoff, flight 1549 landed in the Hudson River. The now-famous heroics of Capt. Sully and the entire flight crew of flight 1549 turned what could have been a most tragic incident into a happy ending worthy of a Hollywood drama. But underneath the miraculous ditching and recovery of that Airbus A320 on Jan. 15, is the very stark reminder that some of mother nature’s most innocent creatures can bring down any aircraft within seconds. Those “primary targets” were birds. A flock of Canadian geese, in this case, crossing the departure path of a commercial flight out of New York’s La Guardia airport. And while it is extremely—and unfortunately—rare for everybody on a downed flight to survive, the cause of the crash is really quite common.
Bird strikes are a persistent hazard for all aircraft at all airports. So much so, that a tremendous amount of research and resources are directed at clearing birds away from airport grounds. Different tactics are used—from pyrotechnics to pesticides—with varying degrees of success. “Depending on the size of an airport and the level of wildlife hazard, the Wildlife Hazard Management Plan may be implemented by a single airport employee undertaking wildlife control activities on an occasional ‘as-needed’ basis or by a full-time wildlife biologist with a staff of operations personnel providing continuous bird patrols,” reads the official FAA manual on the subject. Some airports will use loud noises to frighten birds away, or recordings of a particular breed’s distress call. Others apply pesticides to kill insects (aka, bird food) or even introduce natural predators such as a falcon. Still others employ a good-old loaded 12-gauge to discourage birds from bedding down. But the problem persists, largely because most airports are located in prime avian habitat. Wetlands, grasslands and open fields—common landscape around airports—naturally attract birds. What kind and how many depends on location and season, but some airports are known to have more birds than others. One of the worst? La Guardia. It and New York’s other airports are in marshlands near the ocean, attracting flocks of large water fowl.
There is not much a pilot can do in the case of a bird strike, save for keep a calm mind and a steady hand, report the incident and land as quickly and safely as possible. The best bet is to be aware and understand that, yes, bird strikes happen frequently, though they are rarely life-threatening. More than likely, you’ll hear a sudden thud, land the plane and have a good story to tell.
It's a little known fact that some helicopters are able to move in rhythm to a hard-charging Elvis ditty, literally dancing on their skids in harmonic bliss, until they explode into a thousand bits of metal and plastic. In fact, the name of this unfortunate condition, ground resonance, sounds like an unwritten Elvis hit, although the tune will only last for a matter of seconds before the music screeches to a halt. A problem with helicopters that turn three or more blades, ground resonance is an aerodynamic predicament that has destroyed numerous machines and, sometimes, their occupants. To fully understand ground resonance, we need first to look at the fully articulated rotor system. Most rotor systems with three or more blades require that each blade be able to feather (twist around a line down the center of the blade from the root to the tip), flap (move vertically up and down like a bird’s wing), and lead/lag, hunt or drag, (different words to describe the same horizontal fore and aft movement of the blade like a very thin door on a single hinge, opening and closing). An articulated system allows each blade in its system to feather, flap and hunt independent of the other blades via hinges. In contrast, a semi-rigid system—which is typically comprised of only two blades—allows the blades to feather independently of each other but flap and hunt as a unit, like a see-saw. In an articulated system, the blades feather in order to change pitch, they flap in order to deal with the issues dissymmetry of lift present in forward flight (see our last issue for more on this) and they hunt because of Coriolis Effect. 
Named after the French scientist Gaspard-Gustave Coriolis, Coriolis Effect demands that, as the radius of the center of mass decreases in a spinning object, the rotation rate must increase. The classic example of these phenomena in action is the lovely figure skater in a spin, whose rate of spin increases as her arms are pulled in, and vice-versa. In forward flight, a helicopter rotor system experiences a difference in airflow velocity between the advancing blade—the blade on a helicopter’s right side when the blades are spinning counter clockwise—and the retreating blade—the blade to the left. To compensate, the advancing blade flaps up and the retreating blade flaps down, regulating the amount of lift produced on each side of the ship. As the advancing blade flaps up, its center of mass moves closer to the axis of rotation—the rotor hub—and, thanks to Coriolis Effect, it speeds up. It’s easy to envision by holding your arm straight out, allowing your elbow to be the center of mass and flapping your arm vertically. Your elbow will move closer to your head, the axis of rotation in this example. If we put you on a rapidly spinning office chair while doing this, then your arm would want to speed up or move forward as it moves closer to your head. 
In order to regulate the amount of leading and lagging which takes place on the drag hinge, helicopters are equipped with dampers, which literally dampen the lead/lag motion, much like the hydraulic arm on your screen door that stops it from banging shut. The dampeners are there to take energy out of the system which, in effect, limits blade motion. Their primary goal is to keep the rotor system in balance, which means maintaining a roughly equal distance between each blade (termed phase angle); in a three-blade system this would be 120 degrees. Without dampeners, the rotor head would lead and lag itself to complete destruction as each blade swung wildly back and forth on its drag hinge. Some early helicopters, like the Aerospatiale Alouette, used dampeners and a fixed cable between each blade to literally hold the blades in phase if the things went too far.



Over the last decade, we have seen remarkable advances in the aircraft available to general aviation pilots. The development of composite airframes and glass cockpits has provided tremendous strides in light aircraft design. In today’s world you can fly a fixed gear, four-seat, single engine piston aircraft that cruises at more than 200 knots. Although many of us are familiar with the Technically Advanced Aircraft produced by Cirrus, Cessna, Diamond, and Mooney, the large majority of pilots are unfamiliar with the many new options to own these aircraft. The days of complicated partnerships and abused rental fleets are over.
With the current economic conditions and a softening used-aircraft market, many aircraft owners are searching for new ways to decrease the hassle and risk associated with sole ownership and unmanaged partnerships. In the last five years, we have seen the emergence of fractional programs in the light general aviation marketplace. Fractional aircraft operators have been around for more than 30 years in the corporate aircraft marketplace, but only within the last five years have these programs evolved into light general aviation. It is important to understand that not only have aircraft become increasingly advanced in the last decade, but they have also substantially increased in price. Thus, decreasing the number of aviation enthusiasts who can afford to purchase and operate these incredible aircraft. It was unheard of 10 years ago to pay half a million dollars for a four-seat, unpressurized, fixed-gear airplane. Today, this is almost the standard.
Although every fractional program is a little different, there share the common goal of bringing the general aviation community newer, better, and more advanced aircraft at an affordable price. Generally speaking, most fractional programs begin with the buyer defining his annual usage. There are packages in most locations that start with as little as 35 hours and some that exceed 150 hours of use per year. It is important for a fractional operator to define their programs based on hours so that the aircraft is actually available for owners throughout the year. Depending on the aircraft the company uses, these programs can range anywhere from $60,000 to $180,000 per share. And while the buy-in price is obviously important, it is also important to understand the other substantial benefits to a fractional program. As a fractional owner of an aircraft, you receive more than just your allocated amount of hours per year. You also receive a hassle-free ownership experience that eliminates the day-to-day duties involved in keeping your aircraft in pristine condition. It is important to remember that the fractional operator is not only in charge of selling each share but, more importantly, they are in charge of the daily management of each aircraft and each owner. When an owner shows up to fly, he will show up to a spotless aircraft pulled out and prepared to be flown. After selling out an airplane, a fractional operator becomes a management company to that plane and its members.
It seems fair to say that the likely reason many of us became pilots is because we highly desire the freedom flight allows, the tremendous feeling of independence it permits, and the sense of autonomy it affords. You can easily imagine your aircraft’s wings as your own appendages, granting you the ability to soar off on individual jaunts and excursions, boundless and without restriction. Flying is our great escape, our chance for the alone time we so highly desire, to break out into our own private moment of time and thought, if not for just an hour or two. Yet even though the solitary taste of flight is palpable, there are inevitably times in which we’d like to think that we’re not so alone after all. I’m one of the fortunate ones who can say that, in my nearly 1,300 hours of flying, I have yet to experience one incident worthy of federal reporting requirements (although I’ve had a few students who landed so hard I thought my teeth would fall out). Unfortunately, there is a handful of others who haven’t been quite as fortunate. And for all of us, let’s face it--the future has yet to be told.

Emergency situations come in all shapes and sizes with varying levels of severity. And although our flight training has ensured that just about every scenario possible is covered--time and time again--it’s nevertheless reassuring to know that there is a plethora of trained individuals out there standing by, ready to assist at a moment’s notice, without question or hesitation. It’s the work that goes on behind the wings, with many of us pilots hardly aware of it ever taking place. One such group is the Air Force Rescue Coordination Center (AFRCC), a commanding yet little known organization operated under the U.S. Air Force, which serves as the single agency responsible for coordinating on-land federal search-and-rescue (SAR) activities in the 48 contiguous United States, Mexico and Canada. Located under the 1st AF (AFNORTH) at Tyndall Air Force Base in Florida, the center operates 24 hours a day, seven days a week. According to the AFRCC’s Web site, since the center opened in May 1974, missions have resulted in more than 13,900 lives saved by reducing critical time required to locate and recover people in distress. So what exactly is the center’s mission? Supported by a state-of-the-art satellite network, one of AFRCC’s primary functions is to monitor Emergency Locator Transmitter (ELT) signals (yes, those discrete little boxes, generally brightly colored and waterproof, located mysteriously somewhere in your airplane). More precisely, they are radio beacons that interface with Cospas-Sarsat, an international satellite-based search and rescue (SAR) distress alert detection and information distribution system, established by Canada, France, the United States, and the former Soviet Union in 1979.

When activated, ELT beacons send out a distress signal that, when detected by non-geostationary satellites, can be located through triangulation. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), of the two types of ELT currently in use--121.5 MHz and 406 MHz--there are approximately 170,000 older generation 121.5 MHz ELTs currently in service. They have a 97 percent false alarm rate, activate properly in only 12 percent of crashes, and provide no identification data.
At some point in our flying career, we all will beconsidered a “special risk.” Ever since our introduction flight, just about all of us have looked around the airport at the many different aircraft and been inspired to one day own or fly a newer, faster, or more advanced plane--or desired to fly commercially in one or more exciting aviation careers. But insurance always seems to be a question, obstacle, and uncertainty with owning or flying the aircraft of your dreams. But it doesn’t have to be.We all have to start somewhere. Nobody that I know learned to fly in a Lear 35, after all, but there are a lot of people out there type-rated in them. The key to getting there is patience, training, and persistence. With those things in your mind and heart--combined with a good attitude about safety--you can and will get insured in just about anything your heart desires.
Contrary to what a lot of pilots think, insurance companies are not the devil. I have heard the comment “Well, the FAA says I am qualified to fly it,” more than once from insurance applicants. There is just one little problem with that statement: The FAA doesn’t sell insurance. So, the truth of the matter is that for years the insurance industry has taken a very large and behind-the-scenes role in regulating aviation and making it safer. Of course, they have an ulterior motive to do so: profit! Safer flying and fewer accidents equal lower premiums and larger profits. So, we all win. Insurance companies are in the business of taking and regulating risk. The end goal is to do just that and turn a profit. Being in the risk-taking business means that every company and every underwriter has a taste for certain risks. Some only like very low risk pilots and aircraft and give very good premiums for that class of business. Other companies like higher risk situations and in return charge higher premiums. The key is presenting your situation to the right companies and underwriters that have a taste for your particular situation.
We have all had good and bad experiences throughout our lives that affect our decision making, and aviation insurance underwriters are no different. Some have taken a bad loss or two with a certain make and model of aircraft. Even though the company they work for might take on a certain risk, the individual underwriter may not be comfortable with it due to personal experience. Getting your special risk placed needs to go beyond just sending it to the general pool at an insurance company: This is where your agent can be very helpful. Any agent can gather the necessary information to put a simple quote request together, send it out to the underwriting companies, and hope for the best. But what else can we agents do to better your chances of getting insured, and insured at a lower premium? Well, we can work together with you, our client, for starters. We can find a good transition training program for you and your new aircraft, find a mentor pilot with lots of experience in that make and model of aircraft to provide you a formal training program and make you and your insurance company feel comfortable. We can then present that program and mentor pilot along with the proper quote request to the right underwriter at the right company.
Tucson is a good distance from coastal Southern California - nearly 375 nautical miles by the time you navigate around the military airspace. The destination for the day was the Titan Missile Museum, the only one of its kind still in existence.
In 1963, at the height of the Cold War, this base and 53 others just like it across the U. S. became operational. From that day, and continuously until 1983, each one of these bases stood finger-on-the-button ready to launch an intercontinental thermonuclear missile to a target half way around the world. According to our docent, neither the then-active launch crew, nor the museum today know the exact targeting for this missile.
On a crisp autumn morning, we took the Skylane out to Buena Vista, Leadville, and then through Independence Pass into Aspen and Glenwood Springs. Skies were blue and four of Colorado’s highest mountain airports waited for us, all within an hour’s flight from Denver.
A few miles southwest of Pike’s Peak we look down at the Royal Gorge bridge, suspended 1,053 feet above the raging Arkansas River -- a spectacular sight from overhead in a small plane.
Then north to Buena Vista, where Central Colorado Regional Airport lies at 7,946’ MSL, surrounded by “fourteeners,” peaks that exceed 14,000’ MSL. Colorado has 54 of these majestic mountains, and they all have the right away over VFR traffic. By noon the winds coming off these things can be wicked -- so it’s best to visit them in the mornings.

Flying out of Oshkosh during AirVenture is something that must be experienced to be believed. Flying out of Wittman Field in the back seat of a Yak 52 as part of a five-ship formation is a once-in-a- lifetime experience that can only be described as awesome!
My camera rode shotgun with me as we headed across the grass to the taxi way and jumped in line for takeoff. With approximately 30 planes ahead of us waiting to take off, I was sure it would be a while before we took flight. 10 minutes later, we were taxiing onto the runway 27 and pushing the power forward for launch.
Join Pilot Lounge today and share your own photos, videos and stories with the aviation community.