Aviation's dance floor

Despite what you may have heard, the most ominous terms in aviation are not checkride or Hobbs meter. No, the expression that delivers the most menacing portent is the proclamation "Watch this!" I considered using that phrase to prepare my passenger for some honorable mayhem and a rollicking good time, promenading and jitterbugging through the skies 3,000 feet over farm fields and the rural Maryland countryside. (It certainly seemed more enterprising and less tentative than saying: "OK, here goes!")

I lined up with a nearby road and gently lowered the airplane's nose until the airspeed indicator showed 120 knots, as I throttled back to stay below red line on the tachometer. Then I briskly pulled the nose up, gently adding power as we pitched up past 45 degrees, looking past my left wing tip at the horizon, throttle full in at the vertical, speed slowing, relaxing pressure but not deflection as the earth passed under our heads, and then increasing it as the nose dropped through the horizon again, reducing power at the same time, pulling back, back, as we bottomed out of the loop. Hoo-whee!

Did I do clearing turns? Well, sure. Was the weather VFR? Yes, clear as a bell. Were we away from any highly populated areas? Absolutely. Were we outside of Class B, C, or D airspace, or any airport's Class E? Yes. Got a briefing? Checked for TFRs? Yes, and yes. And were we at least four nautical miles away from the centerline of any airway? Definitely. But did I know what I was doing? Well-in retrospect, let's just say that Wayne Handley, Patty Wagstaff, Mike Goulian et al don't have to worry too much about competition from me. But I wasn't secretly abusing someone's Cessna Skyhawk. Though I was having a blast, and while it might have looked like I was flirting with the laws of physics, this wasn't a reckless thrill ride. I was flying a Cessna 152 Aerobat, designed and certified to perform aerobatic maneuvers; we were both wearing parachutes; and my passenger was actually a helpful and qualified CFI.

You might ask,"OK, bronco buster, what's the point of all this strut and swagger?" Well, I can list several. First, I must admit to being fortunate enough to have found a great place to rent a fine aerobatic airplane just a half-hour's drive up the highway, for about the same price that I pay to fly our club's Piper Cherokee (and yes, that includes the parachute). Although most of the time the Cherokee is my first choice, on those days when one of our club's planes is unavailable, I have another fairly affordable and beneficial alternate airplane to fly. Why do I say beneficial? Because there are other reasons why I view aerobatics instruction as being not only rewarding, but also a good investment-and why you might want to consider it:

• The first incentive has to do with reasoning itself. Two of the popularly known impediments to sound decision making include the sense of invulnerability and bravado. These attitudes, along with impulsivity and anti-authority, are known causal factors in aircraft accidents. However these attitudes represent a spectrum. At its opposite end are equally dangerous attitudes. Someone who feels invulnerable may come to grief defying common sense, but shyness borne of inexperience could also cause harm. The macho pilot may live dangerously, but an overly apprehensive pilot might not apply enough control input to compensate for an upset. You will ultimately increase the safety margin against risks by expanding your envelope at the other end of the attitude spectrum. The bottom line is assertiveness and added confidence.
• The first point is more "attitude," whereas this second one has to do with skill: expanding the envelope with regard to the actual mechanics of flight, and familiarity with other attitudes besides straight and level, climbs, turns, and gentle descents. Current training practices don't consider performance envelopes beyond 30 degrees of pitch (in fact, usually much less than that) or 60 degrees of bank. There are no guarantees that even a Jedi knight could recover from a low-level wake turbulence upset, but an introduction to the full potential of your flight controls will give you a better understanding of how an airplane flies, and might give you a greater chance of recovery from an unintentional unusual attitude at a higher altitude.
• I would be remiss if I didn't mention the old argument about spins. Students are no longer required to enter and recover from them, and many instructors are apprehensive about demonstrating them. (And just who do you think faces the possibility of unusual attitudes and other sudden surprises more often than a CFI?) It's just plain common sense to want to become more aware of the control inputs that precipitate spins, and to practice what you'd need to do to extricate yourself from one. (It might not help much on that base-to-final turn that is often used as the typical inadvertent-spin scenario, but forewarned is forearmed. Burn it into muscle memory, and not just by reading a textbook.)
• Finally, there is that thrill ride angle. For people who enjoy exploring the third dimension, this is possibly the most engaging visceral thrill there is, short of a rocket ride at least. In reality, the biggest draw may just be that it's an absolute hoot. And for the most part, it is these same basic aerobatic maneuvers that are stitched into dazzling routines by airshow performers like Wayne Handley-they just happen at a much slower pace in the Cessna Aerobat, American Champion Citabria, or similar aerobatic trainer that you're more likely to encounter at a flight school.

I wasn't anxious about the wings falling off. Being an aerobatic airplane, it has limit load factors of plus 6 to minus 3 Gs. (In my somewhat temperate forays into the world of the Upside Down, I've never nudged the G meter much past plus 4 or somewhere between 0 and minus 1.) Although I'm always on the lookout for bogeys, we not only had our eyes outside, but we had announced our presence to the folks in the control tower at an airport several miles away (as we always do when entering and exiting the practice area), and they were keeping us advised of any approaching traffic. I was obeying every rule in the book, whether it was FAR 91.303 regarding aerobatic flight, or 91.307 on the use of parachutes. The doors have quick release handles, and I know darned well where the D-ring of the parachute is. I happen to be one of those folks who've never known motion sickness. I don't know why. So I wasn't even thinking about losing my cool (or anything else). Although I got a late start with this, at 50, I was in good health. In fact, I'd recently completed my fourth Marine Corps Marathon.

Speaking of being ship-shape, if you find yourself feeling a bit green around the gills, it certainly doesn't mean the bum's rush off the dance floor. Of course your first exposure to spins, as well as the three primary aerobatic maneuvers-aileron rolls, loops, and snap rolls-will involve sensations you may be unfamiliar with, and you may initially find them to be somewhat unsettling. But most basic aerobatics don't involve tortuous gyrations. One of the most useful of maneuvers, the aileron roll, involves no excess forces beyond the necessary 2 or so Gs for the pull-up. Although rolling generally appears to be harder on most people's constitutions than downward or upward acceleration, this maneuver is great for building confidence as well as coordination. And if you're worried that aerobatics might mean a second introduction to your lunch, don't be. Don't eat a heavy meal beforehand, or anything greasy or spicy, and you'll have a better chance at enjoying the experience.

Anyone in good health can become comfortable after getting used to these new sensations. Done progressively, the body builds a tolerance to them. Knowing when to call it a day if you suspect the onset of what Bill Kershner calls the "NSMFA point" (not so much fun anymore), opening the vents, and flying straight with your eyes outside is usually the ticket to keeping your training momentum and morale, and-shall we say-composure.

It is quite likely that you will start out with the same fundamental maneuvers that I did. I found loops to be exhilarating. I suppose that because they're so simple conceptually, by the third or fourth one, I pretty much had a feel for the proper control inputs and timing. Snap rolls were a bit trickier, in terms of timing and intensity. By briskly pulling back on the elevator to stall the wing and then applying full rudder deflection (with a little aileron assistance) to create enough of an imbalance of lift, it was amazing how quickly I could wrack it around. (Another way to enter a snap roll is to apply rudder deflection first, followed an instant later by full-up elevator.) That isn't surprising, however, since a snap roll is basically a horizontal spin. What I found equally satisfying was that after about my third lesson, I got the feel of the recovery timing so that I could stop on a dime, attitude-wise, as the world went right-side-up again.

Aileron rolls were slower and therefore easier to follow. In the Aerobat, you have to dive to pick up enough airspeed to get the control authority to do it, and it took awhile before I consistently remembered to release elevator back pressure at the halfway point, which is somewhat counterintuitive, but important when you're inverted (and want to lose as little altitude as possible).

I found spins to be another E-ticket ride. It wasn't hard to pitch up at idle power, neutralize the ailerons, pull back, and floor the rudder. What takes more practice is recovering after whatever multiple of 180 degrees I was asked to do. (Things happen fast!) Maybe the best part about learning these moves is the fun of combining them (like the Cuban Eight, which is flown as a figure 8 lying on its side, or the famed Immelmann, which is a half loop followed by a half roll upright).

The Aerobat is in fairly wide use. If you'd like to tame the taildragger at the same time, there are the American Champion Citabria (airbatic spelled backwards) and the Bellanca Decathlon. None are terribly much more expensive than what you might be renting now. If you really want to get into competition aerobatics, the International Aerobatics Club has an online listing of aerobatic schools www.iac.org/index.html. There's no shortage of books on the subject. Among the many good ones are The Basic Aerobatic Manual by William Kershner, Basic Aerobatics by Mike Goulian and Geza Szurovy, Roll Around a Point by Duane Cole, or Fly For Fun by Bill Thomas. If you're specifically interested in emergency maneuver training, there are enterprises specializing in training in this area.

When you think about it, the cost of this kind of exposure (whether it's aerobatics or especially emergency maneuver training) is unimportant compared to the consequence of not reacting quickly and correctly when an emergency might require it.

Jeff Pardo is an aviation writer in Maryland with a commercial pilot certificate for airplanes, and instrument, helicopter, and glider ratings. He has logged about 1,100 hours in 12 years of flying. An AirLifeLine mission pilot, Pardo has also flown for the Civil Air Patrol.