Pilotage

1995 closed with a quietly observed but truly remarkable event: the fiftieth anniversary of the Beech Bonanza.

On December 22, 1945, Beech's chief test pilot, Vern Carstens, was at the controls of the prototype Model 35 Bonanza. The prototype featured a laminar flow wing; a four-cylinder, 165-hp geared Lycoming engine; and a wooden fixed-pitch propeller. The production airplane that would appear 16 months later would have a NACA 2300-series airfoil, six-cylinder direct-drive Continental engine, and an electrically controlled constant-speed propeller (although it turned out to be not so constant). Despite the later differences, the prototype was unmistakably V-tail Bonanza.

Carstens departed Beech Field adjacent to the factory complex in Wichita and returned 40 minutes later. It was clear even then that the Bonanza was something special in the air.

The Bonanza is regaled as having the finest combination of handling, performance, and style among light airplanes. And, as Marc Cook noted in his story comparing an original 1949 Model 35 V-tail to the next-to-last V-tail built ("Fifty Years of Bonanza," December 1995 Pilot), the Bonanza has continually earned its preeminent status over a half-century because Beech has continually improved the design. Though outwardly similar, the contemporary Bonanza is a very different airplane in almost any measure from the Bonanza that went on sale in 1947.

Although I have never flown one of the early ones (that will have to change; Cook wrote that they are the best handling of all the Bonanzas), I have logged a fair number of hours in an A36 and F33As. My V-tail time is limited; but based on my experience, I think that one Bonanza flies pretty much like the next, no matter what the model designation.

The Bonanza deserves all of the praise and loyalty that it receives. The flight controls are uniformly light and responsive; the airplane is fast, and it is solid and well-built. And, it looks good — a commanding presence on the ramp.

That's not to say that the Bonanza is the perfect single. It has its faults: high fuel consumption; somewhat restrictive useful load; standard fuel capacity best described as fair (tip tanks transform the airplane); some odd cockpit features, including the throw-over yoke and a fuel selector hidden down by your feet; and a super- premium price, whether the airplane is new or used. There are other singles that are either less expensive or faster, carry more, or stand taller on the ramp; but somehow the Bonanza endures.

Why? I have a theory: I don't know of another airplane that makes pilot and passengers feel as good at the end of a flight. There are none better at making it easy to execute smooth landings consistently. And though it may be unfair, a smooth landing often is the standard by which an entire flight is judged.

"Chirpchirp" go the mains. The nosewheel remains properly aloft until the speed bleeds off; then it too settles to the runway with a soft, satisfying "Tink!"

"Nice one!" exclaims the passenger.

"Yeah, I am pretty good, aren't I?" you think rhetorically, a smug smile curling the edges of your mouth. "Got this airplane wired." Thus is born another Bonanza devotee — for deep down, this Ace of the Base, like all the others, knows that the Bonanza is the real ace. I can't explain with certainty why the Bonanza lands so easily and well, but I suspect that it has something to do with center of gravity. As fuel decreases, the Bonanza's CG shifts rearward. This makes for a natural nose-up tendancy in a power-off flare. The pilot has to work at botching a picture-perfect mains-only touchdown.

I have been the beneficiary of the Bonanza's I'll-make-you- look-good secret. When I was an AOPA employee, AOPA President Phil Boyer once asked if I could ferry him to Miller Aviation in Binghamton, New York, to pick up the association's Cessna Conquest. "Sure," I said, somewhat unconvincingly. Boyer hadn't been president of AOPA for very long at that point, and naturally I had some trepidation about flying my new boss. What if I screwed up? Adding to my angst was the fact that Lois Boyer, his wife, was also on the passenger manifest. She is a delightful person, but I was focused on the fact that she is the boss' spouse. Screwing up was simply not an option.

Thankfully for my career, the flight went exceptionally well. Phil, in the right seat, was the perfect pilot-passenger (not an easy task), and Lois seemed genuinely to enjoy the trip. We were on an IFR flight plan and the weather was marginal VFR; so, for grins we decided to ask for a precision approach radar (PAR) arrival. The controller agreed and talked us down. The runway appeared early in the approach, and I set up for landing: gear down, flaps down, power at 15 inches, prop forward, trim for 80 to 85 knots. Crossing the numbers, I reduced power to idle and timed the flare.

"Chirpchirp" went the mains.

"Tink" went the nosewheel.

"Nice one!" went the Boyers.

"Yeah, I got this job wired," I thought, a smile curling at my lips.

Bonanza, I love you, man.