| by |
Liz Swaine |
| Photographs by Liz Swaine
|
 |
|
|
| About the Author ... |
|
Liz Swaine is
a member of the AVweb news writing team. A private instrument-rated
pilot, she owns and flies a 1966 Mooney M-20E affectionately known as "Mike" and
a Russian Yak-52 affectionately known as "Yak-52." Liz's love for aviation began
some years ago when, as a reporter at a TV station in Pensacola, Fla., she was
assigned the Blue Angels beat. From there, she moved to Shreveport, La. and, as
news anchor at the ABC affiliate, traveled the world covering the happenings at
Barksdale Air Force Base. She has traveled to Russia to cover the fall of
communism, to Saudi Arabia to report on the build up to Desert Storm, and to
Israel to look at the Arab-Israeli peace process up close. Her latest position
— as executive assistant to the dynamic mayor of Shreveport — is showing her
what the political world looks like from the inside, and she reports the sausage
analogy is right on ... you may enjoy what it tastes like, but you probably
don't want to see it being made. The fast pace of her life extends to her play
... she is a former triathlete and currently into high intensity weight
training. Liz recently married airshow pilot and airplane builder Steve Culp,
who likes airplanes as much as she does and can fix 'em, too. Their dark, hairy
daughter named "Mollie" looks suspiciously like a dog.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
One Record Falls, One In Question
"This is the worst part," says Exxon Flyin' Tiger Marketing Director
Donah Nevill. "I have no idea what's going on. I'd much rather be up there
than on the ground." "Up there" is somewhere high above Wittman Regional
Airport, where pilot Bruce Bohannon is trying to break two time-to-climb records
after a long dry spell. The last time Bohannon broke a record was here at
Oshkosh last year. Since then, two attempts have ended badly, the last at this
year's Sun 'n Fun, where Bohannon made a dead-stick landing after his engine
failed. Bohannon is confident today will be different. If the weather
cooperates. If the plane works. If he flies well. Lots of ifs.
Bohannon and the Flyin' Tiger roll onto the taxiway a little after 9 a.m. and
then sit, awaiting clearance, as a line of departing aircraft inch forward for
Runway 18R. Finally at 9:27:36 a.m., the Tiger flexes its wings, wags its tail
and speeds toward the clouds, toward 30,000 feet. The Tiger isn't pressurized,
but Bohannon carries a small canister of oxygen. Smaller is better in the
rarefied world of speed, because smaller usually translates into lighter. To
keep the plane as light as possible, the Flyin' Tiger also launches with just
enough fuel to get it up and back down again ... no out-of-the-way vectors, no
holds, no trapped-on-top fit into the plans.
"Turn 90 Degrees Right, Please"
As a guy named Murphy will tell you, plans change, and on Sunday Bohannon got
vectored: twice, once at Chicago Center's request to avoid airline traffic,
another at Bohannon's to aim for clear sky, which is generally smoother than
clouds. While his crew on the ground was squinting into the clearing sky,
Bohannon was furiously scanning ... EGT, airspeed, RPM, and stopwatch. "The
workload is pretty high because the environment is changing so rapidly,"
Bohannon told AVweb after landing. "But this workload is without the
nitrous [oxide], which was a nightmare. If I overlean now, I lose a little power
... when
I did that with the nitrous, it was a disaster. Today, I didn't have to worry
about Mattituck (the engine maker) beating me with an old crankshaft."
After landing, a tape inside the plane containing a recording of engine
instruments and altitude was pulled to be sent to the National Aeronautic
Association (NAA) in Washington, D.C., for certification. NAA can give an
unofficial opinion the day of the time-to-climb, but before the numbers can take
their place in the record books, they have to be crunched for true altitude and
temperature. The two records Bohannon is aiming for are the 6,000 meter (19,685
feet) and the 9,000 meter (30,000 feet) time-to-climb marks. By yesterday afternoon, Bohannon was
declared unofficial 9,000-meter champ with a time of 19:47 ... the 6,000,
meanwhile, remained too close to call. Bohannon flew
it in 7:48. Once the wild cards of temperature and true altitude are figured in,
the 6,000-meter record could belong to Bohannon as well.
The End Of A Long, Cold Year
Whether the 6,000-meter records falls or not, the monkey is off Bohannon's back.
Though Exxon and Flyin' Tiger's other sponsors remained very supportive
throughout the year, Bohannon was feeling pressure ... from Bohannon. "I
just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear." Throughout it all, Exxon
has been there. "They never lost faith. I can't tell you how much that
means."
Bohannon was already under enough pressure on Sunday. "You can't imagine
what it's like sitting out there for 45 minutes waiting for a clearance,"
he said. It was nerve-jangling enough to make Bohannon forget both his jacket
and gloves, which he realized when the cockpit started getting very cold.
"It was like hugging an iceberg when he got out of the plane," Nevill
said. "You felt pretty good," countered Bohannon.
So what's next for the multi-record holder? Possibly tackling a record to 35,000
feet. But after all the climbs are made, Bohannon would like very much to get
horizontal, as in a cross-country from San Francisco, Calif., to Mattituck, New
York, the home of Mattituck Engines. Or even better ..."Around the world
nonstop. But not in this airplane. I'd like to put that on the front
burner." Nonstop? "Oh yeah," smiles Bohannon. "But if I told
you any more, I'd have to kill you."
The Rocket Man's Record Keeper
Larry Steenstry, chairman of the Contest & Records Board of the National
Aeronautic Association, is the person to whom Bohannon & Co. turn when
making an attempt. Steenstry is not someone who merely enjoys watching history
being made, he has made it himself. In April 1999, as a captain with United
Airlines, Steenstry took the time-to-climb record for any jet 77,000 to 99,000
pounds. Since then, Steenstry has moved to piloting 747-400s along the routes to
Japan and
China.
"My record flight took about two months to set up, but I finally got the
okay from United and the FAA. I was carrying 19 passengers from San Francisco,
Calif., to Medford, Ore. From brake release up to altitude, we averaged 4,400
feet per minute. When we had made it, I told the passengers what we had done and
gave them all pictures of the plane. I told them it wasn't by accident that a
plane with 124 seats had only 19 passengers." Steenstry says he flew the
737 "completely by the book" and that no one on board had any idea was
going on. But when it was over, the old 30,000-foot record of 9:31 minutes had
been replaced by 6:41.
Rocketmen of the world, unite!
Email this article
