Air racing is generally not something the typical general aviation pilot associates himself with. From the Bendix and Thompson trophy races of the 1930s and '40s to the clipped-wing behemoths that round the pylons at Reno today, it's easy to see how the average private pilot has a hard time relating.
Several events throughout the year, however, offer such pilots the thrill and excitement of racing an airplane. Races such as the Great Southern Air Race, the Make-A-Wish Race, and the Marion Jayne Air Race, which handicap airplanes based on actual or published speeds, have become what are essentially air races for the average GA pilot.
To see what all of the excitement was about, I entered the Marion Jayne Air Race last year and collared my two corporate-pilot brothers into playing crewmembers. I had flown as a crewmember in Arc en Ciel's Air Race of the Americas in April 1996 (see " Air Race of the Americas: To the End of the World and Back," July 1996 Pilot); however, that race was flown entirely under IFR and most legs were 1,200 miles or longer. In addition, the entry fee for the luxo-vacation, continent-hopping race would be staggering for the average GA pilot. The Marion Jayne Air Race is a VFR-only event that doesn't require thousands of dollars to enter or thousands of hours of flight time — heck, you don't even need an instrument rating. Most legs are less than 300 miles, making nonstop legs attainable for even the slowest competitors. At the overnight stops, various activities, tours, and social functions are arranged to keep the competitors and their companions entertained.
The race is named after Marion Jayne, a legendary air racer who died of cancer in 1996. With 26 victories, she is purported to have won more cross-country air races than any other pilot — including the longest race ever held, Arc en Ciel's 24-day Around the World Air Race in 1994. In that race she was awarded a gold medal by the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale. In addition to achieving these feats, she was a shameless promoter of general aviation and the sport of air racing. In 1994 she founded the U.S. Air Race, which attracted 17 crews in its opening year after her recruitment of sponsorship from Signal Aviation Underwriters. A rapidly growing event, last year's Marion Jayne Air Race swelled to 43 crews.
The beauty of a race like this is that it's not limited to one particular make and model of aircraft. Through individual handicapping, a Cessna Skyhawk can race fairly with a 250-knot Glasair III or a high-powered twin. The handicapping method used in the Marion Jayne Air Race (MJAR) requires that the pilot fly over a set course at full power with the gear and flaps up, cowl flaps closed, ram air intake open, etc. Optimally, a slow handicap run is favorable, since your results in the race hinge on how well you can beat your handicap. A check pilot is sent along with the racer to make sure that he or she is abiding by the rules. GPS groundspeed is noted at the beginning and end of this timing run as a backup. Speed is measured in miles per hour for these types of events to make it easier for the general public and nontrade press to relate.
After the handicap run the airplanes are impounded and the cowlings sealed so that no after-handicap tweaking may be done. Violators of the impound rule or those who cheat on the handicap run will be disqualified.
Last year's three-day event started at Albuquerque, New Mexico's Double Eagle II Airport. Arrival of the crews coincided with the annual New Mexico Pilots' Bash, hosted by the New Mexico Department of Aviation. Planned stops along the race were in Guymon, Oklahoma; Hutchinson, Kansas; Atchison, Kansas; Farmington, Missouri; Bowling Green, Kentucky; Columbus, Georgia; and Monroe, North Carolina. Compulsory (overnight) stops were planned in Atchison, birthplace of Amelia Earhart, and Bowling Green, now home of the Chevy Corvette.
Before the race, handicap runs were conducted both ways down Runway 4/22 at Double Eagle. Since Albuquerque is already 6,000 feet above sea level and turbocharged airplanes are not allowed to enter, none of the competitors' airplanes could achieve much more than 75-percent power. Herein lies one of the strategies many racers would use in the race to follow.
Prior to the event, we pored over the race route and the performance capabilities of the Cessna 172M and Beech D55 Baron that we regularly fly. Race strategy depends greatly on what kind of airplane you bring to the starting line.
Given the generally eastbound direction of the race, we figured that there would be some tailwinds to work with. This being the case, we realized that the Baron would spend only a little more than an hour of each leg in the tailwind at its race speed of better than 200 knots. The 120-knot Skyhawk, on the other hand, would spend more than two hours in that same tailwind, thereby besting its handicap speed by a larger margin than could the Baron — advantage Skyhawk.
Call us spoiled, but the thought of a trip from Maryland to Albuquerque in a Skyhawk with three siblings and bags for a week eventually overcame the racing advantage of bringing the Skyhawk — decision Baron.
When entering an event like this, it is of paramount importance to bring an airplane that you are intimately familiar with. Things happen much faster at these high power settings, and terms like VA (maneuvering speed) and VNE (never exceed speed) take on new meaning. You must also be aware of engine operating parameters at such high power settings and take them into consideration during your preflight planning. Fuel consumption at high power can be truly staggering. When arriving at a checkpoint airport, the Baron's twin Continental IO-520s were happily gulping 47 gallons per hour!
Although the term air racing may sound like an activity for macho pilots with something to prove, it's not. Despite the fact that there is a $5,000 first-place prize to battle for, most pilots enter for the chance to fly around the country in a GA airplane with their spouse, family, or friends, and to meet others with similar interests. If you win the prize, well, it certainly gives some bragging rights — and it may cover the expenses of the trip. Nineteen of the 43 teams that entered the 1997 event were husband-and-wife or family crews, many of them racing for the first time.
In addition to this cast of racing neophytes were the air-race regulars. Greg Marshall, from Honolulu, Hawaii, never misses the opportunity to make the trip across the Pacific to race in the MJAR in his modified Piper Lance. Maisie Stears and Mary Creason are always sure to show up at several races throughout the year and turn in top-10 performances. Another regular, Arthur Mott, of Woodbury, New York, was the winner of the 1996 MJAR and was a major sponsor of last year's race. Although there is plenty of ribbing among these more-serious competitors, all of them are more than willing to help the newcomers with advice and, perhaps, by sharing a little race strategy.
For the first time in the event's three-year history, weather called the shots on a race leg. Thankfully, weather decision making by the organizers was very conservative, helping to uphold the event's perfect safety record. Marginal VFR weather over the first stop in Guymon, Oklahoma, forced MJAR officials to move the start of the race to Hutchinson, Kansas. There, racers met with reporters from Wichita television stations who were awaiting our arrival. At each stop it was not unusual to be approached by a local newspaper or television reporter. After the racers fueled for the leg to Atchison, Kansas, the cameras were treated to the spectacular "flying starts" that make this race exciting for the general public to watch.
Flying starts allow the pilot to perform a normal takeoff, fly a wide pattern around the airport, and overfly the runway for the start of the clock. Timekeepers in the tower or other locations will start the clock after the airplane crosses the line. To take maximum advantage of the flying start it is best to dive down to attain as much speed as possible before crossing the timing line. After crossing the line, the excess airspeed can be used for a rapid climb to cruise altitude without the airplane's falling significantly behind the power curve. Ken and Judy Johnson's Glasair III was a media favorite.
Racers have the option of stopping at the en route stops or continuing to the compulsory stop. In the interest of keeping their airplanes light on fuel, most racers elect to make the stops instead of continuing. Arrival timing is done just like the start. You must plan your descent to arrive on runway heading at 500 feet agl to fly your timing run. After zooming down the length of the runway, you can proceed to the next en route or compulsory stop or climb to pattern altitude and perform a normal pattern and landing. Flying starts and finishes are far safer than attempting to race an airplane from brake release to touchdown. Keeping the pilot in a configuration with which he or she is familiar is important in maintaining a safe and sane race.
As with any cross-country air race, gambling with winds can make or break your results. Can the forecasts be trusted? Is it worth climbing to 7,000 feet to catch a 15-knot wind on a 200-mile leg? On the opening day of last year's race, the winds-aloft forecasts were calling for light and variable all the way up to 12,000 feet. Logically, almost every racer elected not to bother with a speed-robbing climb. Besides, engines can make more power at lower altitudes. (Remember, the timing runs were conducted in Albuquerque, where the elevation is 6,000 feet.)
Our conservative plan, in an attempt to be easier on the 29-year-old airplane, was to set a minimum cruise altitude of 5,500 feet. At that altitude, airspeed would be within the green arc of the airspeed indicator, the engines could produce only 80 percent of their rated power, and the air would probably be smoother. Besides, a twin's best attribute is its climb rate; you might as well use it. With the discouraging wind forecast, we stayed at 5,500 feet on the first leg. If anything, we seemed to be getting a headwind. So as not to bust our 5,500-foot hard deck, we anted up the stakes and vaulted up to 11,500 feet on the second leg. Luckily, we found about 20 knots of push up there on this longest leg of the race from Atchison to Farmington, Missouri. While the rest of the racers battled it out at low altitudes in the bumps and the heat, we were flying in cool, smooth air. Meanwhile, the twin Continentals were loafing along on 18 inches of manifold pressure at a relatively low 22 gph.
After a hard, but respectable, decision by MJAR President Pat Keefer, the race ended in Bowling Green after three legs. Apparently, the same weather system that had kept us out of Guymon followed us across the country to haunt us again. Conditions were marginal VFR; and with so many airplanes involved, it was a safe decision to call it quits there as far as the race was concerned. However, there was still a finish-line bash awaiting us in Monroe, North Carolina. The competitors found their way to Monroe any way they could; most simply filed IFR, and some hopped in rental cars. Pilots with empty seats offered rides to fellow racers who were not instrument-rated or -equipped. In turn, nearly all of the crews and their invited guests made it in for the awards banquet.
Some $15,000 in cash, prizes, and sponsor products was awarded at the banquet. Given our relatively conservative game plan and being more-or-less first timers, we were very surprised to find out that we had won the event. It turns out that our wind gambling really paid off, putting us barely ahead of the Johnsons' Glasair III, which was penalized several seconds when the crew overshot a timing run. Our names were engraved on the Marion Jayne Trophy, and we were given two beautiful trophies and a plaque. The $5,000 prize money went right into the Baron's maintenance fund.
As the winners, we were given the opportunity to name the terminus point of this year's Marion Jayne Air Race. We chose the Frederick (Maryland) Municipal Airport, given the size, facilities, and the fact that we have all worked there at one time or another. Now entering its fourth consecutive year, the MJAR is scheduled to take place June 6 to 11. The route is currently set to start in Shreveport, Louisiana, with interim stops at Tulsa, Oklahoma; Millington, Tennessee; Litchfield, Illinois; Dayton, Ohio; and Wilkesboro, North Carolina. Events are planned at the start and finish cities and at the compulsory stops in Millington and Dayton. Prize stakes for 1998 have risen to $20,000, with cash prizes slated for first- through fifteenth-place finishers.
This year's Marion Jayne Air Race is billed as "the fourth annual best excuse to go flying." Regardless of whether you go for the prizes or just to fly, it's a great way to see the country.
To obtain an entry kit, send $15 to the Marion Jayne Air Race, 216 Fresh Meadow Drive, Trophy Club, Texas 76262; telephone 817/491-2842; or visit the Web site ( www.us-airrace.org). The entry fee is $350 for a two-person crew. For a schedule of all cross-country air races in 1998, contact Air Race Central at 808/373-1889 or by e-mail ( [email protected]). Links to all Web sites referenced in this issue can be found on AOPA Online ( www.aopa.org/pilot/links.shtml). E-mail the author at [email protected].