humid.  The canopy seals were keeping the wind noise down to a murmur, the vents were working well and the carbon monoxide monitor showed none present.

 

       Don was in a wide left hand turn and I quickly overtook him. We flew together for a bit comparing speeds. Relaxation had begun to replace the initial tension, and I was becoming attuned to the twitchy controls. The Sportfire flew "hands off' (miracle!). On  my way to 3000 feet for stalls, I ran through some turns and coordination exercises.  Even with no aileron differential there was very little adverse yaw.

 

       I leveled at 3700 feet for landing attitude stalls.  Checked the 'chute harness snaps one last time and glance at the "D" ring secure in its pocket on my left chest.  Would the airplane spin and not recover?  Would something break or jam if it did?  Would the 'chute open if I used it and, if it did, where and in what condition would I land?  I swallowed once and sang " do-ra-mi-fa-so" to loosen the knot in my throat so I would sound cool on the radio then made a quick transmission to Bill to advise of my intentions.  He reported no traffic in my vicinity.  On came the carb. heat.  I throttled back to idle r.p.m., entered an estimated 80 m.p.h. glide and checked the tufts.  All smooth.  Back pressure was applied to smoothly reduce speed and descent rate as the three point attitude was approached. The tufts remained smooth until we were in a three point attitude then the ones at the trailing edge of the wing root began to wiggle nervously then flip around to point forward.  This pattern rapidly propagated towards the tips and as it reached the inboard ends of the ailerons, the nose sagged smoothly through the horizon.  Barely relaxing the back pressure and applying partial power had us flying again.  I was relieved to see this and to know that the fat little elliptical wing I had cobbled up, with an altered airfoil and no slots, wouldn't suffer from tip stall.  I run through several more to be sure.

 

       The remaining problem was to get the Sportfire back on the ground in one piece.  Strangely enough, I felt the least apprehension about this.  The high speed taxi tests had demonstrated that the airplane would be reasonably easy to control on the roll out, and I       remembered the landing attitude perspective.  The tufts would warn me in time to avoid an unintentional stall.  The Sportfire is significantly cleaner than the Taylor and the approach angle is shallow but speeds were be about the same.  I elected to make a wheel       landing for added insurance and it was all over!

 

       Upon my arrival at the ramp, I was greeted by Carol, Bill and his wife, Don and, bless his heart, a fellow chapter member with champagne and glasses!  We had a short party during which I answered a hundred questions, my sweaty shirt dried out and my knees turned to rubber.

 

       Foot notes:

 

       I was glad I didn't have to use the freshly packed 'chute or the tools in the track but it was good to have them available along with enough muscle to get the airplane off of me or break it up and get me out if necessary.

 

       The video and recorded radio conversations are excellent for Monday morning quarter backing.

 

       The chase plane watched for oil streaks on the belly and/or smoke trails Where I couldn't see them, and would let everyone know where I hit the ground if I didn't get back to the airport.

 

       A small HALON fire extinguisher was installed in the cockpit for that moment of grace, during a crash fire, needed to shatter the canopy and crawl out.

 

       If you plan to test a truly experimental, one of a kind beast with an unknown personality, or something you have modified beyond all recognition, you cannot be too careful.  Give yourself all the breaks.  It really is the little things that can get you.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Bob Gilbert  

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