E Z Peaces wrote in
:

Ol Shy & Bashful wrote:
On Jun 25, 10:00 pm, E Z Peaces wrote:
Yesterday I chatted with a retired man flying a model airplane. He
said he'd taken lessons in a plane with conventional gear in the
1950s. On his third lesson, the instructor had him land. It was
perfect.

After that, every time he landed he would bounce and float above the
runway. His instructor didn't know what caused it. A senior
instructor
went up with him and observed that when he touched down, he didn't
continue to hold the stick back. That caused the tail to rise and
the plane to lift off.

That doesn't make sense to me. I've always understood that with
conventional gear, excess speed is the cause of bouncing and
floating. With the main wheels forward of the center of mass, your
angle of attack will increase when you touch down, and the plane
will rise if you still have flying speed.

If a pilot touches down too fast, I've understood that he needs to
keep the tail up and use the brakes without nosing over.

If the instructor had told him he was touching down too fast because
he wasn't holding the stick back far enough during descent, that
would make sense to me because a higher angle of attack induces more
drag.

The man said the problem was that he had failed to keep the stick
back after touchdown. Does his recollection make sense?

Are you kidding? After nearly 60 years the recollections of a 3 hour
student have any validity? The VAST majority of botched landings are
due to flawed airspeed control and it doesn't matter what kind of
airplane. Many instructors fail to recognize that, or, fail to do
anything about it, especially when instructing. I see it all the
time, harp about it daily,and continue to mentor less experienced
pilots on this.
In the case of taildraggers specifically, if the airspeed and
vertical speed are not controlled, it will nearly guarantee a bounce
with predictable control problems. For a three point to be executed
properly, the airspeed MUST be near stall as in within Vso+ 5 mph or
less. Anything in excess of that must be dissapated during the flare/
roundout or touchdown and will result in an unpredictable touchdown
point.
Now, are you talking about a full stop landing? Then the touchdown
speed should be as low as possible. Are you talking about a gusty
cross wind? Then you have a different set of conditons to deal with.
Not to be a pushy butthead but I've got at least 6-7000 hours in
tailwheel aircraft crop dusting in a broad variety of aircraft
including twin engined and a lot of time instructing in them (couple
of thousand hrs..?)
taking a deep breath and just sitting back now .....
Ol S&B
p.s. I realize you were asking and not postulating so please don't
feel I was being gruff towards you personally?

Thank you very much! I was postulating. From what I knew, a perfect
landing with conventional gear means stalling so low that the wheels
touch down gently, and you can't rise again unless you're going too
fast. I lacked the experience to know if there was any way his
recollection of the cause of his problem could be correct.

I've never had a flying lesson. About second grade I began reading
books about the mechanics of aircraft. Through my teens I often held
papers at arm's length, curved for rigidity, to get a feel for the
relationship between speed, angle of attack, lift, and drag. I
studied pilot manuals for the Thunderbolt and the Mustang and and
cockpit photos of other aircraft. I liked to pedal to the airport and
watch the mechanic work.

In the high-school library I found a 1948 book by an instructor named
Lang, I think. It explained concepts learned from experience rather
than laymen's theory. Throttle for vertical speed, elevator for
airspeed. Ailerons for direction, rudder to center the ball. If you
want to know where you're going, watch the way the scenery shifts
against the windshield.

As a CAP cadet, I was assigned to the simulator room at an Air Force
base the summer I was 17. Those simulators had frosted windshields
and no video. Other cadets tried and failed with the F-106. I was
the only one to try the B-25. I wasn't familiar with bomber cockpits,
but the individual instruments and controls were familiar. I toured
Boston by radar, returned to the base, set the flaps, guessed a
reasonable descent speed, and followed the instruments in, using the
elevator for airspeed and the throttle for descent.

In view of my awe of flight, it was disappointingly easy. The
sergeant in the control booth played with me on my second flight. I
had various problems including an engine fire and loss of hydraulics.
Books had told me how to respond to such emergencies, and I made
another adequate landing. Then a pilot came in to log some training
time.

The following October a parent in the squadron invited me flying. His
invitation was very brief. I hadn't known he had a plane because he'd
never spoken to me before. It was a Cessna 310.

At the airport, he told the other three to sit in back and me in
front, on the left. That was the second time he'd spoken to me. I
figured he wanted me in front because I was taller.

At 3,000 feet he told me, "Take over." I thought he intended to let
me guide it a minute or so, but he didn't speak again, so I spent
twenty minutes touring. I would have liked to hedgehop but refrained
because I didn't have permission.

Eventually he told me to find the airport. I knew the terrain and had
a compass, and before long the airport was in sight. When we were
almost there he said, "Traffic pattern is to the left." I'd forgotten
that. I steered right and began circling left.

Then he said, "Runway 1." That would mean a complete circle. I
brought him around to a point far enough out that I thought he'd have
a reasonable glide path. Instead of taking over, he cut the throttle
to a whisper, dropped the gear, and set the flaps. He told me the
descent speed. That was the fifth thing he'd said to me since taking
off. I think he was the last thing he ever said to me. From a couple
of miles out I could see we were overshooting the end of the runway,
so I reduced our speed slightly by raising the nose.

As we got closer, I saw a gusty crosswind on the sock. The other
runway would have been better but he said nothing. He'd know how to
handle the crosswind. He'd also know how to flare. I didn't know our
rate of descent but figured we'd crash into the runway if he didn't
flare or if he flared too soon.

We were down around treetop level when I realized there was no longer
time for him to take over. How could I flare safely without knowing
our stall speed or how the aircraft would respond? In climbing aboard
I hadn't noted the height of the window above the wheels. It seemed
only realistic to predict that in two more seconds we would be a ball
of flame. Still, I wouldn't have missed this opportunity for the
world. At least I had tricycle gear, which tolerates landing too fast
and crosswinds.

As I flared, the sock showed a big gust from the left. Would we be
drifting right when we touched down? I knew a responsible pilot would
have let the gear absorb the stress, but I was a perfectionist novice.
I dipped the left wing while kicking right rudder to stay aligned with
the runway, then picked the wing back up. That was to skid into the
crosswind. It seemed risky because I didn't know how well the
airplane would respond at that speed and with the mass of the tanks on
the wingtips.

I expected a vertical bump and a lateral lurch. Instead, tire
vibration
was the only clue that we had contacted the runway. I didn't need
brakes. When it was clear that we would need throttle to make it to
the parking area, the pilot took over without a word.

Beginner's luck: that deadstick landing in a crosswind was my first
and last opportunity to fly an airplane.

Sniff. Anyone smell a sock?

Bertie