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Dave Higdon |
I'm
often asked to sum up an airplane in one word. The problem is that most
airplanes resist such a simple label. As a result, my responses usually trend
toward "neat," "cool" and "fast," to
"impressive," "heavy" and "demanding" or to
"slick," "nimble" and "comfy." Of course, these
choices explain next to nothing about the plane. So it was the afternoon after
my morning flight time in Lancair's impressive Columbia 300, the hottest rod
in a field of three all-new composite airplanes AVweb sampled during
one week for this four-part pilot report. Friends and colleagues all sought a
simple wrap-up on the bird; likewise, my editor asked the usual obvious
so-what-did-you-think questions.
The word "impressive" kept popping out of my mouth, mainly
because it's accurate. The Columbia 300 is an impressive piece of machinery:
It's roomy, powerful, fast and features some clever human-interface touches
that I'll discuss more fully in a moment. In fact, "impressive" is a
valid description for the Lancair ES and Lancair IV I was allowed to sample
B.C. — before certification of the Columbia 300 — earlier in the 1990s. The
differences between the Columbia 300 and either the ES or IV, despite their
many similarities, have their roots in the latter's homebuilt status. Since
the Columbia 300 is a certified, production airplane, what you see in the
factory demo machine is pretty much what everybody gets, unlike the vagaries
of homebuilding. The Columbia 300's innovations and logical touches, delivered
consistently from one unit to the next, are what make the machine more than a
big, beefy airplane made of composites in someone's garage or hangar. And they
are impressive touches.
However,
my view of the 300's impressive traits comes accompanied by some caveats. For
example, flying the Columbia 300 requires a dedication level somewhat greater
than that with which less-experienced pilots would be comfortable. This is a
distinction that would not necessarily apply to the other two plastic planes
flown for this series, the Cirrus SR20 and Diamond
DA40 Star. To be fair, Lancair doesn't bill the Columbia as an entry-level
airplane. But for even a pilot of considerable-albeit-irregular experience,
the 300 is one bird that could predictably get away, on the ground and in the
air.
But the Columbia 300 could be the ideal, cost-effective choice for the
serious flyer logging above-average hours each year, somewhere well above the
40-to-50-hours mark, regardless of how they're obtained. Pilots already flying
or planning to fly something like a new or late-model Bonanza, Mooney Bravo,
Commander 114B, or Saratoga may, however, find the Columbia 300 an attractive
prospect. With its control feel and response being proportional to its size
and horsepower, the Columbia 300 will certainly reinforce a sense of substance
to its owners, despite lacking one of aviation's more testosterone-enhancing
controls — a landing-gear switch. Still, Lancair's offering delivers the same
sort of high-velocity travel that makes those other all-metal machines so
popular.
Power With A Purpose
From The Panel To Under The Cowling...
The Lancair Columbia 300's engine — a TCM IO-550-N churning out 310 hp —
is one of the few similarities between it and conventional aluminum birds like
the Mooney Ovation and Raytheon Bonanza A36. Just about everything else, even
the panel, is a world apart from general aviation's traditions. And
practically everything that distinguishes the Columbia 300 from the mainstream
of general aviation also makes it generally like its kin in the brave new
field of plastic airplanes: carbon-fiber/honeycomb-sandwich airframe
structures; fixed gear; atypical stick-like controls. With obvious exceptions,
the Columbia 300, the Cirrus SR20 and the Diamond DA40 Star all seem to spring
from the same mold. And that brings up one other common trait: high
efficiency. Where Spam Cans and Wichita Iron get 160 knots true or so out of
some 300 horsepower, the Columbia 300 got nearly 190 during my flight.
Similarly,
where corrosion and fatigue are factors to fight in conventional aluminum
airplane designs, they pose far less of a threat to the plastic planes. And
where more and more other planemakers are starting to adapt the technology of
graphics displays in available avionics, the Columbia 300's optional panel is
dominated by a huge AvroTec/Avidyne multi-function display (MFD) centered in
the cockpit, with the radios conveniently relegated to a console directly
below where the pilot's hand would rest. This panel, in fact, is the first
production, initial implementation of the much-awaited "Highway In The
Sky" (HITS) concept jointly developed by NASA and the Small Aircraft
Manufacturers Association.
On the strength of that 310-horsepower engine, the 300 can carry an adult
in each of its four seats, fuel enough for a flight of 600 nautical miles, and
a goodly load of luggage. Runway pavement passes by quickly as the 300
accelerates to 70 knots, where getting it off the ground becomes possible. And
if altitude is safety, the 300 gets safer faster than most; climbs exceeding
1,500 fpm are within easy reach.
But commanding this capability takes a bit more attention and effort than
the 300's composite cousins. One reason is the Columbia 300's high cruise
speed. Another is its slippery nature and resistance to slowing and descending
— a tough job simultaneously. Fundamentally, though, the Columbia demands
that the pilot put a little more effort into control inputs to overcome its
natural stability, and that stability comes across to some pilots as a heavy
feel in the side-mounted yoke.
But, we get ahead of ourselves. Let's take a walk once around the airplane
before we put it to work.
...Fleetness Of Wing Makes All That Power Pay Off...
Speed and stability go best together when served in balanced portions, and
there was soon to be no question in my mind that the Columbia 300 has plenty
of both. But none of this was obvious walking up to the factory demonstrator.
The long, thin wing, big cabin windows and streamlined, fixed landing gear
look no less racy on the Columbia 300 than similar implementations on the
Cirrus SR20 or Diamond DA40 Star. But on closer examination, the 300 gives up
some of its mystery. Big, thick window frames, the heavy structure of the gear
— particularly the castering nose wheel — the bulk of the fuselage structure
and the size of the tail surfaces all seem matched to an airplane of
considerable capabilities.
The preflight inspection matches the other planes flown for this series in
access. All of the must-see, must-touch stuff easy to get at — except the
engine oil dipstick: The 300 sits just high enough for at least one 5-foot
9-inch writer to need a boost to check the oil. And getting up the step and
onto the wing also took some reaching for me. Once up on the wing, the step
down into the left seat is something of a stretch, thanks to the high cabin
door frame. Given a little time and practice, the process would undoubtedly
become easier for anyone 5'-10" or taller; under 5'-9", and you may
want to consider one of those little collapsible stepstools offered in some
aviator catalogs.
Starting the injected IO-550 is vintage TCM. Your pushing, pulling and
boosting is soon rewarded as the engine lights off and, hinting at its
muscles, its throaty exhaust settles to a rich baritone. The doors latch
easily and solidly; you can have you occupants fasten and check their belts as
the engine warms and the needles edge into their green arcs. Soon, the time
comes to release the parking brake and taxi on an arc out of our parking spot.
But the 300 resists moving in the desired direction. Time to talk about
steering by differential braking for a moment.
The Columbia 300, like the Diamond DA40 and Cirrus SR20, sports a castering
nose wheel that requires differential braking to steer. On most airplanes —
the Grumman singles and numerous kit designs, for example — the geometry
makes changing the nosewheel heading relatively easy. Not so the 300.
Our
bird came to its parking spot from a left-hand turn and it stopped with the
nosewheel pointed about 30 degrees left of center. To clear the planes parked
near us, however, we needed the 300 to leave its space in a right-hand arc.
Only after rolling several feet in the wrong direction did the nosewheel start
to center and, finally, point to the right. Obviously, thinking ahead will
help, as will familiarity. The ultimate solution would be to check to see
whether the nosewheel sits straight and nudge it toward the desired direction
of taxi, if you already know during the walk-around. Doing so could save the
proud owner an embarrassing or expensive moment some other time. Once rolling,
though, directional control almost matched other planes with
differential-brake steering. The big exception came in reversing a turn:
Again, more advanced planning and some extra room was needed.
...On Takeoff, Climb And Cruise
Finishing the pre-takeoff checks went quickly — we needed some of that
time for the Windows NT-based software in the AvroTec/Avidyne MFD to load —
and then the time arrived to launch from Winter Haven (Fla.) Gilbert's Airport
Runway 22. With power to the max, the Columbia surged ahead with enthusiasm
once the brakes were released, rushing down the runway with a sense of urgency
uncommon to even most other similarly-powered machines I've flown. A few
seconds later, the 300 lifted off and my hands quickly dialed down the power
to 2,400 and 25 inches. As we climbed and crossed the intersection with
Gilbert's Runway 11/29, the panel instruments showed us more than 200 feet up
and gaining altitude at about 1,500 feet per minute. Since we launched our
test bird carrying nearly 600 pounds of adult males and more than 80 gallons
of fuel into a sky dotted with scattered cumulus and so hot that density
altitudes ran about 2,000 feet higher than actual, it was pretty clear to me
that all that power works well.
As we continued the climb, it quickly became evident that rudder trim would
ease my workload — the torque and P-factor of this big four-seater kept us
climbing to the left — right toward the Orlando Class B to the east. With the
east edge of Tampa's Class B just to our west and Orlando's off to the east,
we opted for the safest exit and headed due south between the inverted wedding
cakes. But even that presented a problem for us: About 40 nm south of Gilbert
is a large restricted area which was hot, that day, to boot, and far too close
for the 184 knots true the 300 gave me when we leveled at 6,500 MSL. At three
miles a minute, something needed changing, either speed or heading. With only
a few minutes to go, it seemed prudent to do both and sample some of this big
bird's slow-speed traits.
Wrist Wrestling: Trim Is Your Friend
Control Feel Befits The Columbia 300's Mission...
To
be sure, the Columbia 300 responds with a simple flick of its side-mounted
yoke. But making that flick happen takes muscles more like a wrist wrestler,
particularly when reversing a turn or bank is concerned. Of course, there are
good reasons why the Columbia 300 has the heaviest handling characteristics of
our three plastic planes. For one, the ailerons' geometry favors stability,
resisting easy displacement from their neutral, in-trail position. That
stability only increases as the airplane reaches the higher limits of its
speed range. At the same time, the amount of stick movement needed to
initiate, correct or stop a roll goes down — and thus, the perceived effort
declined as the need for change also lessened.
As you might expect, then, the control inputs needed to displace the
ailerons were greatest at the plane's lower speeds, such as when slowing for
descent and for pattern work. The feel of the ailerons closely matched that of
the elevator, however; a bit of control pressure harmony that seems
appropriate. These observations aside, three factors make the so-called
"heavy" feel of the Columbia 300 a non-issue for me.
First, this really isn't an airplane for weekend jaunts around the pattern
or short hops to a favorite airport hangout, any more than is a Beech Bonanza
or Cessna Centurion, although people do fly them that way. Instead, the
Columbia 300 is a muscle-bound traveling machine, and both pilot and autopilot
should appreciate its resistance to unintended maneuvering.
Second, the Columbia 300's trim system offsets any tendency to wear out
your wrist if used to its best effect. And using the trim — particularly the
pitch trim — is as much a key to making the 300 perform as its pilot desires
as trim is in any other heavy airplane. Again, the Bonanza and Cessna's
six-cylinder singles come to mind — particularly the 182, which will wear out
many non-body-building pilots who don't use pitch-trim.
Finally, on the heavy-weight claims, anyone serious enough about their
flying for this machine to make sense will likely quickly adapt and forget
about the weight in the side sticks as enjoyment of the Columbia 300's great
control authority and harmony grows over time.
In fact, this is one smart-handling bird. Slight pressure on the stick
starts the 300 toward a new heading and pitch angle; arrest the roll input and
the 300 halts the roll in a blink. Reversing 45-degree banks took a bit more
time and effort than its lighter, slower plastic kin, but there was no
question that the bird responded to what I asked of it. And with the oomph of
310 ponies on tap, the only real limit on your ability to manage complex
three-dimensional situations is the speed of your particular mental processor:
You do need to think a few more miles ahead of this bird than most four-seat,
fixed-gear singles.
...Stalls And Slowing Down...
Stall
breaks in the Columbia 300 proved to be the most pronounced of the three new
composite four-seaters, as you might expect with the weight of that big engine
and prop out front. Keeping the ball centered with rudder proved to be no
problem, however, which helped me keep from falling off on a wing during the
deepest stalls. Again, though, with so much aileron authority, keeping the
wings level was work but not a real challenge.
While the Columbia 300 resists slowing as much as anything flying, one
feature Lancair installed into the factory demonstrator helps with a pilot's
poor planning: speed brakes. In the Columbia 300, they're a joy to use in
those tough maneuvering challenges of slowing and descending simultaneously.
While speed brakes are not now available on factory production airplanes,
Lancair is working to have a Precise Flight certified on the 300 and the
forthcoming turbocharged 400. Combine its high inertia with its strong control
authority and harmony and you have a machine that should be of tremendous
comfort flying approaches in the toughest IMC conditions.
We had nothing but popcorn clouds scattered across a clear-blue Florida
sky, but there was enough turbulence to keep me watching and correcting my
attitude and altitude as we flew the downwind leg for Gilbert's Runway 4. The
rate at which the west wind drifted us east on the downwind provided me with
ample evidence that negotiating Runway 29 would be immensely easier — but
hardly as much fun or as educational. With crosswind runways a relatively
rarity these days and single strips the rule, sticking with Runway 4 offered
me a chance to push the 300's crosswind capabilities. Runway 4, here we come.
...And Traffic Pattern Work
After adding most of the right rudder available, the 300 stopped drifting
and descended to the downwind line flying as straight as a Kansas section
line. This should be easy, I thought. After slowing to 120 knots and adding
the first notch of flaps, the Columbia slowed further, allowing me to apply
the second notch. At the turn to base, we were down to 90 knots and slowing.
While turning the corner, I ran the engine up to max rpm and managed my
descent with power alone, letting the pitch trim system keep the Columbia 300
locked on 80 knots, perhaps a bit slow for my fellow fliers but a comfortable
number to see how easily the Columbia can squeeze into small strips. Using
slight power changes to manage my glide, my hands worked quickly through the
subtle movements needed to hold the wings level, the nose straight and my
touchdown spot dead in my sights. As the threshold approached, I added nose-up
trim and reduced power almost in unison. Adding more nose-up pitch with the
stick rewarded me with a left-gear-right-gear-nose-gear touchdown just off the
Runway 4 centerline. Flaps up to one notch, trim back to takeoff position,
power up for the tough-and-go, and the 300 roared ahead for our second try at
the runway.
Although my plan involved taking advantage of a change to Runway 29,
traffic behind me and queueing up for 29 made another approach to 4 the
smarter option — so, back we went. And this time, it was me providing some of
the unusual aspects, with a little help from the crosswinds. Rolling out on
final 300 feet high and 20 knots fast gave me a chance to slip the big bird
while smoothly reducing power and adding flaps.
The left crosswind on Runway 4 made it easy to slip nose left, right wing
down. The threshold appeared to rise toward us too quickly, but a glance at
the airspeed indicator affirmed that we were, in fact, slowing from 100 for
90, then 85, then 80, as we arrived over the pavement. A gentle rudder kick
straightened out the bird and she touched down straight, both mains first.
Columbia Cabin A Thing To Behold
Little Sits More Than A Reach Away — And Lots Within Armrest Reach
With its commanding climb, cruise and control capabilities, the Columbia
300 offers pilots much from the best of all possible worlds, more than any
other aircraft in its class of fixed-gear, four-place singles. Actually, it
beats several retractables of equal power. But speed and inevitable price
comparisons aside, none of these available production airplanes — new or
out-of-production — quite matches the space, ergonomics and human-factor
touches built into the Columbia 300. Take the lowly fuel-tank selector, for
example. Lancair's designers placed the control exactly at the end of the
leather-clad center-console armrest, where you need not even move a forearm to
swap tanks. And to help you keep your eyes in the scan, the company heeded an
FAA request and put an indicator light in each tank gauge so you need not even
look at the valve control to confirm which tank is in use.
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Artist's conception of what the
full-blown HITS instrument panel will look like. Lancair expects to
install it in the forthcoming turbocharged Columbia 400.
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Similar to its two plastic-plane kin, the 300's flap switch is actually
shaped like a flap and the position of each detent closely matches the actual
flap position it selects. Clever. Ditto the placement of the electrical
circuit breakers, which are mounted in rows on the left side of the cabin,
arranged in order of importance. Cleverness in design ergonomics extends to
the avionics stack, mounted within easy reach in the center console, where
they don't have to compete for space with that huge multifunction display.
And what a display. As big as most notebook computers, the optional AvroTec/Avidyne
MFD can be configured in several different ways to reflect the flying ahead —
VFR, IFR, approach, en route, cluttered with details (like that restricted
area mentioned earlier) or devoid of all detail save your active route and
waypoints. Next year, Lancair expects to also offer an AvroTec/Avidyne display
for all the primary flight instruments offering true HITS navigation imagery
as shown on the turbocharged Columbia 400 earlier this year at EAA Airventure.
Like I said before: clever.
But it's something of a pity that the display uses Windows NT software and
a relatively slow processor in its current incarnation. Waiting for the system
to boot up before taxiing felt like waiting for a 10 meg Web page to load over
a 300-baud modem, and only slightly better when we returned and waited for the
screen to tell us it was safe to turn off the avionics master switch. Company
pilots later told me they shut off the system hot with no trouble ... not
something I'd want to do on the Pentium III I'm using to write this.
Aside from that boot-up-boot-down complaint, the panel delivered everything
a serious pilot should ever want, from the IFR GPS, two-axis autopilot, even a
Stormscope option for the heavy IFR user.
A Bargain Bird?
Let's face it, piloting something as capable, hot and muscular as the
Columbia 300 delivers some kind of ego boost to the typical pilot's psyche.
Indeed, for many buyers, that baddest-and-biggest balance alone will tilt the
decision. But making a sound, practical decision about your real needs (versus
equally-real wants) may lead you in another direction. No question that the
Columbia 300 is (choose one): a bargain compared to a Bonanza and Saratoga,
both in price and speed; a fair savings compared to an Ovation, which pretty
much matches the 300's speed; and a decision worth weighing against the Mooney
Eagle, which comes within a couple of knots, nearly matches in full-fuel
payload, but wins out in fuel efficiency.
Remember the difference in numbers, product support, service, and the like.
The Bonanza and Saratoga do offer seating for six but useful loads restrict
that seating potential. And that makes deciding between a Columbia and a
Cirrus something tougher. If 30 more knots and reduced fuel efficiency are
worth 50 percent more money to the buyer, then there's only one outcome
possible: The Columbia 300 wins.
If
160-plus knots and 40-percent-lower fuel bills work for you, there's still a
payload question to answer because the Columbia 300 wins that contest flaps
down. Ask yourself a series of realistic, tough questions: How often will the
payload difference matter? How often can it be resolved by carrying less fuel?
Realistically, how often do any of us actually use the full-fuel cruise range
of our planes?
But standing on its own, there's no doubt the Columbia 300 represents a
great departure in high-performance personal airplanes, thanks only in part to
its carbon-fiber composite airframe. It's comfortable, well-designed and has
as much speed as any naturally-aspirated single on the market.
Lancair's engineers gave it lots of interior room, good control harmony and
precise handling, plus a great panel. Those engineers could have done the same
in metal. But then, it wouldn't have the advantages of corrosion and fatigue
resistance, easy reparability or those gorgeous rounded, sleek, sexy lines —
something akin to a female bodybuilder showing off.
And in metal, it just wouldn't have been a Lancair.
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Editor's
Note
This AVweb Pilot Report on
the Lancair Columbia 300 is the third in a four-part series on three
new-production, all-composite IFR single-engine airplanes. In
addition to the Columbia 300, AVweb has flown the Diamond
DA40 Star and the Cirrus SR20. AVweb
will conclude this series with a wrap-up piece in two weeks. Stay
tuned!
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