Brilliant or cruel?
Primary training in a tailwheel airplane
I’m not sure if my son is blessed or cursed to have a father who owns a Cessna 140. This economical two-seat tailwheel airplane has been my fun ride for the past decade. But when I purchased an airplane that better suits my current needs—an IFR-equipped Cessna 170B—I had to decide the fate of the 140.
I certainly don’t need two airplanes and would only keep the 140 if my son committed to using it for primary flight training. Although this is the role the aircraft was designed for, the 140 has a reputation as a challenging airplane to land with its bouncy spring-steel main landing gear.
A senior at Purdue, Tony had secured an internship at the Erie Regional Airport Authority for the summer and was enthusiastic about formally learning to fly the airplane I’d been informally teaching him to fly since he was 9—except for landings, that is.
Finding a qualified flight instructor willing to teach primary training in a tailwheel aircraft was challenging, but I eventually found CFI Logan Hunt, owner of Corry-Lawrence Airport (8G2)-based Crosswind Aviation. An experienced tailwheel pilot, Hunt was enthusiastic about taking Tony on as a student and both were eager to see how much they could achieve during Tony’s 10-week internship. I flew the airplane to Corry and wished it luck.
A few days later I received a phone notification that the 140 had departed Corry airport—Tony’s first official lesson. I debated whether to follow their flight on FlightAware. I did. They did some airwork followed by many takeoffs and landings. To my relief, it appeared they completed the lesson safely. In what became a routine, Tony soon called to debrief me and ask for advice as he drove 45 minutes back to Erie.
Tony said he had preflighted, taxied, taken off, and flown the pattern with little correction needed by Hunt, but the landings got Tony’s attention. His voice became animated as he described his three-point landings, wheel landings, bounces, swerves, and go-arounds—and I laughed at the memory of doing the same during my tailwheel transition training.
The next three lessons were more of the same, but during our calls I could sense his knowledge, skill, and confidence increasing. He was now asking detailed questions about aircraft attitude and airspeed, flaps, and slips, and lamenting his inability to master wheel landings. “Tony, you just finished your fourth lesson. Be patient,” I said.
Hunt soon added to the mix short cross-country flights to local private grass runway airports, along with emergency operations and maneuvers required for the practical test. Within a month, Tony had logged 15 hours and landed at a dozen grass runways nestled in the lush, rolling hills of northern Pennsylvania.
I visited Tony the following weekend, and he was itching to show me what he’d learned. I was obviously PIC, but he did a fair amount of the flying. We remained in the pattern at Corry for a few laps, and my first impression was that he had learned the fundamentals of three-point landings: actively and appropriately using the rudder pedals, correcting to track the centerline, and remembering to hold the control wheel all the way back after touching down. We set out to land at four of his favorite grass strips in a round robin flight.
My next impression surprised me. By flying to numerous private airports (where nosewheel flight school airplanes typically don’t land), Tony had learned a fair amount of aviation judgment. He had learned how to approach airports with nonstandard traffic patterns, avoiding mountains, trees, and other obstacles blocking an otherwise standard flight path. He’d learned to judge wind direction and hidden wind currents. And, he’d learned about density altitude and the challenges of flying an underpowered airplane at maximum gross weight from short fields with trees at both ends—learning to eke every bit of performance from the 85-horsepower Cessna 140 to always maintain a safe margin.
I learned to fly in a “Land-O-Matic” Cessna 150 at North Central State Airport (SFZ) in Rhode Island—which was amazing. But I can confidently say, thanks to Hunt’s instruction, Tony’s piloting skills far exceeded mine at 15 hours total flight time.
Tony finished the summer with 25 hours logged, including over 100 takeoffs and landings. He still must complete dual and solo cross-countries, night flying, and instrument flying before he’s ready for his checkride, and his tailwheel skills need to develop to include stronger and gustier crosswinds.
Was it brilliant or cruel to ask my son to learn to fly in a tailwheel airplane? My intention was neither; I happened to own a Cessna 140, and my son wanted to learn to fly. You fly what you brung, but it sure didn’t hurt.
