AirVenture: Of Sales, Big Skydives and a Rare Warbird

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, AirVenture offers more delightful surprises.

During his news conference Wednesday at Oshkosh about his work at One Aviation, Alan Klapmeier remarked in passing that in his experience, it's not money that dissuades potential buyers from committing to aviation, it's fear of complexity. When airplanes are designed to be intuitive and easy to fly, he went on, the market will grow, as more people will be attracted by the well-known upsides of general aviation—the ability to travel where you want, on your own schedule, and be the master of time and space. I tend to think that's pretty true—if people could see an airplane more like a boat or a motorcycle that can be operated safely using basic manual skills and common sense, I think it would be attractive to a much larger segment of people who today are daunted by the continuing commitment in time and attention required to be a safe pilot.

But while Klapmeier's point seemed intuitive and clear to me, it drew strong disagreement from other pilots in the room when I brought it up over pizza and beer. Well, said one, if the airplane is doing virtually all of the flying for you, you're not really a pilot anymore—that's just transportation, it's not aviation. Well, said another, that's not it at all. People just aren't interested in flying in the same numbers they once were, just like they're not interested in shortwave radio, or woodworking or even golf; complexity and even money are really beside the point. Things have just changed, that's all, and for the short term, they're not changing back. Well, said a third guy in a green shirt, people are not used to being challenged anymore. They've gotten spoiled by everything being too easy, and they don't see the intrinsic rewards of doing things that are hard.

My take is that flying has other rewards besides the satisfaction of mastering a difficult skill. There's the freedom, the spectacular view and the chance to look down on the tops of clouds and watch the horizons expand, and to see your airplane's shadow traveling inside a circular rainbow. If trusty computers could take care of all the details, let me choose the route and launch time and just take me safely from A to B, I'd be glad to give it a try.

-Mary Grady

Rarest of Birds

While Mustangs aren't quite a dime a dozen at AirVenture, there are enough of them here that I tend not to look twice when I see one. I'm starting to know them by their nose art. But every once in a while, something truly rare shows up at AirVenture and this year, it's the deHavilland Mosquito parked on the hard stand of the warbird area. It was brought in by the Military Aviation Museum of Virginia Beach.

In the course of shooting a video on the airplane, I had a good sit in the cockpit with Mike Spalding, who flew the airplane in from Virginia Beach. I've been in enough World War II-vintage cockpits to understand that ergonomics and human factors weren't exactly in the design vernacular nearly 80 years ago, when the Mosquito's lines were being lofted. Controls, instruments and components are placed haphazardly, even illogically. I suspect much of this was worked out on the shop floor, not necessarily at the drawing table.

For example, while the bomber-only version of the Mosquito had a yoke, the model on display here has a stick, a very long, awkward thing that pivots in the middle for roll control. Spalding said that dropping the airplane's gear requires a left-right-left hand switch from the throttles to the stick to the gear and back to the throttles. I'm sure the young pilots who flew these machines got used to that, but friendly design it ain't.

By World War II standards, the Mosquito wasn't made in large numbers—about 7800, compared with more than 15,000 P-51s, 20,000 Spitfires and more than 30,000 Bf 109s. That's one reason they're so rare, but the larger one may be that when the war ended, nobody bothered to put these things up in hangars to protect the primary wooden structure they're made of. Quite simply, they rotted away. We're lucky to have even one left. It's worth the trouble to hike down to warbird plaza to have a look.

-Paul Bertorelli

For Want of a Grip

Wednesday's world-record skydive attempt over AirVenture didn't quite make the cut. The team assembled a beautiful 108-way and made two additional formations, but a missing grip evidently meant the last point wasn't a legal completion by FAI standards. And that's just the way these things go sometimes. There are a lot of moving parts in freefall in a formation that big.

Big ways like this are difficult enough anywhere, but attempting one at a major airshow like AirVenture ramps up the challenge. World-class airshows are stitched together with split-second timing and when someone misses their mark, the delay cascades down through the entire schedule. On Wednesday, Airbus couldn't get it together on time for the departure of the A350 they had on display in Boeing Plaza. For whatever reason, the Airbus departed 25 minutes late, so the skydivers were cooped up in their unheated airplanes for two hours, rather than the usual 40 minutes. At least some of that delay was at altitude, where you'd rather not be for long if you can avoid it. Kudos to the airboss and staff for making this look seamless for viewers.

Nonetheless, when the completed formation came into view just before break off, it was a red-white-and-blue thing of beauty, looking for all the world like a delicate flower. Tip of the helmet to Roger Ponce for spotting the load so the track off and opening was almost exactly on show center. Wednesday's second attempt, just before the night airshow, was crumped by weather. The team will try again on Friday, this time with some smoke so showgoers will have a better chance of seeing them in freefall.

-Paul Bertorelli