Home Stretch

On the surface, Lancair's plan was quite simple. Take the kit builder's existing Lancair Super ES — a fixed-gear, four-place single — and alter it for the dual and sometimes contradictory needs of production and certification. The opinion of Lancair's management and many of the pilots who flew the kit-based ES was that the airplane was well-mannered enough that it would work its way through certification with few changes and soon arrive on ramps and tiedown spots across America. m That was in 1995. Four years later, the journey through certification has dramatically changed the airplane. And while it outwardly resemblesthe ES, there's precious little under the skin that's the same. In effect, Lancair and Pacific Aviation Composites, the subsidiary responsible for ushering the Columbia 300 down the dark aisle of certification, have jacked up the ES's prop spinner and driven an entirely different airplane underneath.

Fortunately, all of the most tantalizing bits remain. Even as the wing gained fed-placating appendages (more on those later), the Columbia remains handsome and tidy. The cabin, under dual gull-wing doors, is admirably roomy, with a broad width that ensures even big pilots will not be rubbing shoulders. Headroom is also generous; and although the beefed-up windshield pillars on the airplane renders it slightly more claustrophobic inside than in the ES, it's still miles ahead of most piston singles.

Pilots — even those who prefer traditional cockpits — will like the Columbia's front office. The instrument panel is pleasantly sculpted and intelligently laid out. All of the engine instruments, for example, are arrayed on the left corner, directly ahead of the pilot's side-stick control. The Rochester gauges, similar to those used on the new Cessna singles, are easy to interpret, but because most gauges are packed two to a 2.25-inch gauge, a pilot who is new to the Columbia will need some time to learn which needle is which. Directly in front of the pilot are traditional gyroscopic "steam gauges," with a large, multifunction navigational display taking center stage in the panel. The remaining panel in front of the copilot is blank, just asking for the Inspector Gadgets in the crowd to fill it up. Most of the standard UPS Aviation Technologies (UPSAT, nee II Morrow) stack resides in the low center console, airliner-style.

Lancair intends to sell the Columbia with two basic avionics packages, both centered on UPSAT gear. The standard package includes a GX60 IFR-approved GPS/com, an SL30 nav/com, an SL70 transponder, an SL15 audio panel/marker beacon/intercom (essentially a PS Engineering PMA7000MS), a BFGoodrich WX-950 Stormscope, and an S-Tec System 30 two-axis autopilot. The premium IFR package swaps the GX60 for a similar GX50 IFR-approach-approved GPS, and adds a second SL30 nav/com, and an AlliedSignal KCS 55A horizontal situation indicator with matching flight director attitude indicator; the S-Tec autopilot changes to a System 55. In all, it's a modern, well-considered avionics suite. Options include the Avidyne color moving map display, a Shadin fuel computer, an ADF, and a DME.

In addition to setting a higher standard level of equipment, Lancair announced in May that it had balanced its books carefully and that a price increase was necessary. On the first 50 airplanes, the standard IFR package now costs $285,500 while the premium package brings the total to $299,700. Lancair initially projected that a basic IFR Columbia would cost $169,900, but the price rose to $225,000 as the certification trials continued. There's more: Buyers of serial number 51 and higher can expect to shell out about 5 percent more than the newly announced prices. According to Lancair, none of the first 50 buyers has backed out of the deal.

Those first buyers will get — starting in October — an airplane that reflects a lot of good thinking and a substantial amount of alteration from the original kit-based ES. Most changes to the Columbia in its transformation from the Lancair ES tumbled down from certification requirements, particularly those regarding the airplane's spin-resistant subset of the most current FAR Part 23 rules.

The rules are quite specific and fairly complicated but boil down to this: The airplane cannot roll off into even an incipient spin, no matter how badly mistreated and mishandled. Even with the engine howling away at max-available power and the Columbia's nose clawing the sky, the airplane cannot rotate but very slowly and must show a resolute desire to keep the wings level at all times. Certifying the airplane to the spin-resistant standards relieves Lancair of having to prove the airplane through the entire spin matrix that's part of FAR Part 23.

Lancair made the Columbia comply with the new rules in ways both expected and ingenious. A prominent leading-edge cuff on the outboard sections of the wings helps to keep the air flowing over the ailerons even at high angles of attack. The sharp discontinuity between the cuff and the inboard section of the wing is said to create a vortex that also helps to improve stall characteristics. In addition, Lancair has limited the amount of up elevator to make it impossible to attain critical angles of attack in the first place.

Getting an airplane to stall gently is one thing, but meeting the spin-resistant rules is something else again. Lancair first reduced the rudder area by cutting that surface's chord; the vertical stabilizer appears huge in comparison. Next, Lancair created a system that limits rudder movement under certain conditions — specifically when a manifold-pressure switch senses high power and the stall warning energizes; it's then that a small solenoid blocks left rudder travel to about 15 percent of normal. (Right travel is unaffected.) At the power-on stall, the airplane naturally wants to turn left, so provoking it with right rudder does little negatively. But, unmodified, the airplane would snap around quite smartly to the left with a healthy prod on the left pedal. The manifold-pressure switch is to assure full crosswind-landing authority. Finally, Lancair canted the engine in the airframe two degrees right and two and one-half degrees down. (This is a common stability-improving tactic.)

The results are impressive. You can yank the airplane around in a full-power stall with your feet flat on the floor; it'll bob and weave and protest, but never even hint at rolling over. Try that in a Beech Bonanza or a Mooney and it'll be sky, ground, sky, ground�adrenaline rush. It goes without saying that power-off stalls are benign in the extreme. Say what you will about the rigors of today's Part 23 certification, but the rules definitely make for better airplanes in the low-speed part of the envelope.

Good thing, too, that performance hasn't suffered greatly. A close relative of the powerplant in the Mooney Ovation and Eagle, the Lancair's IO-550-N produces 310 horsepower at 2,700 rpm with the help of cross-flow cylinder heads and Continental's tuned induction system. With it, the Columbia has remarkably good takeoff and climb performance. Handbook numbers suggest a maximum rate of climb of 1,340 fpm. We noted 1,100 fpm out of Bend's 3,000-foot-elevation airport on a warmer-than-standard day. Climb rate holds up well; by the time we were ready to level at 8,500 feet, the Columbia was still holding better than 800 fpm at 100 knots indicated. And these numbers were not taken at some artificially light weight; with three aboard and carrying 60 gallons of fuel, we were just 250 pounds shy of the airplane's 3,400-pound maximum gross weight.

Because of the warm air, our 8,500-foot cruising altitude yielded a density altitude of about 9,400 feet. At full throttle and 2,500 rpm, leaned to 50 degrees rich of peak EGT on 15 gph, the Columbia indicated 152 kt, for 175 KTAS. A GPS-measured speed run confirmed this measurement with a two-way average of 176 kt. According to Continental's power charts for the IO-550, we were pulling about 70 percent power. Calculating back to optimum altitude for 75 percent power puts the Columbia prototype knocking on the door of 180 KTAS.

That the airplane we flew failed to meet Lancair's 190-kt cruise predictions is explained in part by a nonconforming cowling. Because of the newly introduced engine cant, the prop spinner and cowl don't align exactly. In addition, the wing cuff has apparently cost the airplane some speed. For reference, the Lancair Super ES that we flew in 1995 would easily top 190 KTAS.

But let's put even our prototype-measured performance in perspective. At 180 KTAS, the Columbia is still dazzling for a fixed-gear single with a large cabin. It will creep away from your average Beech Bonanza and would remain in the hunt with such speedy stalwarts as the Mooney Ovation and Eagle. In addition, the Columbia is a comfortable margin ahead of any other fixed-gear singles that we can think of, including its prime competitor, the Cirrus SR20 — which, to be fair, spots the Lancair some 100 horses.

Performance is desirable, sure, but what makes an airplane a pleasure to own day in and day out is versatility. With 92 gallons' usable fuel, the Columbia can stay aloft for 5.5 hours at maximum cruise with an hour's reserve. If you really need to stretch the trip, run the Continental on the lean side of peak — its tuned induction system makes this possible. There, you can count on fuel flows closer to 13 gph, putting another hour on your trip clock.

Naturally, with a lot of fuel available, the Columbia's full-fuel payload of 612 pounds doesn't sound all that impressive. It's still three FAA-standard adults plus bags, which is as good or better than most comparably powered retractables. Trim back your fuel order to 75 gallons — still good for four hours with a generous reserve, or 720 nautical miles' range in still air — and you can load four souls and their bags.

Pilots unaccustomed to side-stick controllers will take a few flights to fully warm to the Columbia's handling. In general, it's quite good, with decent authority and good harmony. Since we last flew the airplane, rudder and aileron forces have been reduced. Although the airplane has three-axis trim — roll and pitch available through a stick-mounted switch — you'll seldom use the rudder trim. But because the aileron forces are still high, you'll be using the lateral trim fairly often, particularly as you draw down fuel from the individual wing tanks. In the pattern, the airplane is now well-balanced, but the roll forces are still comparatively high in cruise and particularly in a high-speed descent. It's an inevitable compromise that must be made when the engineers want to give some span to the flaps and the designers want that sexy (but travel-limited) side-stick.

In the original ES that we flew, the flaps were simple hinged affairs, but the Columbia uses large, semi-Fowler designs; their pivot point is below the bottom of the wing, providing some movement backward as they extend down. They are remarkably effective, although without a pronounced pitch change.

As a result of these powerful flaps, landings are easy even in an airframe that would appear to offer a better-than-average shot at floating. Recommended approach speeds are between 80 and 85 KIAS, a bit high based on the dirty stalling speed of 57 KIAS. (One-point-three times Vso is 74 KIAS.) On your first landing, you'll see why. By limiting elevator authority to keep the Columbia out of nasty stalls, Lancair has also diminished the pilot's ability to flare into a nose-high landing. Every touchdown that we made was with the stick banging the elevator up stop. And, no, we weren't at the forward limit, either; in fact, with a backseat passenger, the center of gravity penciled out to about the middle of the range. Better, then, to fly the airplane to the numbers under a bit of power and make a gentle flare in ground effect than to try to salvage a high-sink-rate, idle-power approach with a pitch-up.

But what we think most pilots will discover is that under the skin of an airplane appearing to be quite new and unusual, there are conventional handling qualities backed up by performance heretofore unseen with fixed landing gear. And while virtually everything else about the Columbia has changed in the evolution from the kit-based Lancair Super ES, the original plan to build an airplane that mates benign handling with high performance remained intact. The Columbia itself proves it.