After completing my Commercial Pilot and Flight Instructor ratings last year, it became a lot easier for me to feed my aviation habit. I had finally arrived in the position of being able to spend some money on a flight experience that would be, let's say . . . less than practical. I have a fascination with vintage military aircraft, and I was determined to find my way into some exotic cockpits.

    I did some research and found a fair number of options. Several companies and individuals throughout the country operate T-6 trainers. Instruction in Stearman biplanes isn't that difficult to come by. For a bit more of an investment one can take the controls of a P-51 Mustang, which was the front runner in my mind for a while. Another well known company brokers flights in modern Russian fighter planes, and even trips to the International Space Station. Trouble is, you have to travel to Moscow (or low earth orbit) to do it. Sounded great, but way out of my budget -- particularly the latter option at $20 million, and that's probably not including tax and tips.

    Then I found the JetWarbird Training Center in New Mexico. A visit to their website revealed that they specialize in aerobatic and jet training with a stable of six aircraft: T-34, L-29, L-39, Fouga Magister, MiG-15, and T-33.

    Hmmm . . . MiG-15, eh?

    After a few email messages back and forth I found that I could get a very worthwhile and exciting experience in Santa Fe for a rate that I considered quite reasonable. Several packages were offered to me, and I eventually settled on a two-day course in aerobatics in the T-34 prop trainer to be followed by flights in the L-39 and MiG-15 jets. This was my idea of a vacation!

    However, a few weeks after booking the trip they contacted me to say the T-34 would be undergoing some unplanned maintenance during my stay and it would be unavailable. It seemed that two pilots in Texas had been killed in a T-34 a few days earlier for unknown reasons, and that the JetWarbird aircraft would undergo a wing spar inspection and modification just in case. I heartily agreed that it sounded like a good idea, although this meant the formal aerobatics course was a no-go for me. My package was re-configured to include aerobatic instruction in the Fouga jet, which suited me fine. How many people get to do their first real aerobatics in a jet fighter?

    So the day after Christmas 2003 I headed for New Mexico to fly jets.

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(For more photos visit my complete JetWarbird Photo Gallery)

L-39 Albatross

The hangar cat completes pre-flight inspection of the L-39's air intakes

L-39 front cockpit

    I arrived at the Santa Fe Municipal Airport on a windy, bitterly cold Saturday morning. On the ramp near Million Air Aviation I saw the usual assortment of light aircraft, numerous business jets and several jet trainers and fighters wearing desert camouflage livery. I was smiling already.

    Not sure where to go, I approached the desk and asked if they knew where to find the guys who flew the fighter jets. I was directed to a small office painted in the same camouflage as the planes, and was greeted warmly by the JetWarbirds instructors, Larry Salganek and Dale "Duke" Faust. The three of us got acquainted and planned out the next few days in more detail.

    Recently retired after a 22-year military career, Duke Faust had been a T-33 and F-15 instructor pilot in the Air Force's "schoolhouse." He trained new and transitioning pilots in the aircraft before they went on to their operational squadrons. This meant he had spent many hours in the back seat of fighter jets while students tossed him around, and I marveled at how he had found a way to utilize that expertise in civilian life. "Perfect job for me, isn't it?" he said with a grin.

    Larry Salganek was, I was astounded to learn, not an ex-military pilot. A former school teacher, he found his way into warbirds the hard way, instructing in helicopters and fixed-wing aerobatics for many years. I asked how he ever got experience in jet fighters without a military background. His answer: "I just found the right people and worked my way into it." He is now well known in the warbird community as an instructor and airshow performer, and is authorized by the FAA to issue type ratings in five different jets.

    Today Duke and I would fly the L-39, and he began a very thorough pre-flight briefing using a computer presentation and large photograph of the cockpit instruments. The L-39 was made in Czechoslovakia, and is still in use by various military air forces. It was designed and built in the late 60's and early 70's, and is a simple aircraft by jet standards. Designed as a trainer, the instructor sits in the rear while the student occupies the front cockpit. Both have full sets of flight controls, although there is some different equipment in the two stations. The rear pilot can fail instruments in the front cockpit, although that wasn't on the agenda for today. I would probably have my hands full with everything working properly.

    Duke talked about the aircraft systems, how we would start the engine, taxi technique, and the maneuvers we would execute. In discussing the aerobatics, I explained that I had little experience outside of basic aileron rolls and spins, which was why I had originally opted for the T-34 aerobatics course. We decided to do aileron rolls, a barrel roll, and possibly a loop if things were going well. He then explained that we would be pulling some g's, especially if we did loops.

    As you sit and read this (unless you booked that trip to the International Space Station I mentioned earlier) you are experiencing one "positive g," or one Earth gravity. We often are subjected to slightly more than 1-g. Every time you accelerate or sharply turn your car, you pull a bit more than 1-g. While accelerating you are pushed back into your seat. During a turn the centrifugal force pushes you to the left or right. In aerobatics your body is subjected to more g's, and they can come from a variety of directions.

    A level turn with 60 degrees of bank in a Cessna 172 will produce about 2-g's, which would mean you feel twice as heavy as usual. About the same can be experienced on a roller coaster. A loop in an aerobatic aircraft, meaning the plane performs a back somersault, results in 3-4 g's. Most people can take 3 positive g's without too much discomfort. But as the g's increase it becomes more difficult to breathe and the blood rushes downward in your body away from your head. People begin to "gray out" between 5-6 g's and lose consciousness around 8-9 g's. Negative g's are much worse, and there isn't much that can be done to counteract the effects. Negative g's are experienced in maneuvers such as outside loops (the plane does a forward somersault), where your head is on the outside of the centrifugal forces. We would not be doing any negative-g maneuvers today.

    The effects of positive g's can be counteracted by an "anti-g straining maneuver" (AGSM). By tightening muscles in the legs and stomach and breathing in a controlled manner, blood loss from the head can be minimized. Properly executed, the AGSM can increase a person's tolerance by 3-4 g's. Duke explained this in detail and demonstrated the maneuver. He later told me he had experienced over 10-g's in the F-15.

    We then went over emergency procedures. The ejection seats were disabled in their L-39, so it was to be manual bailout if the need arose. However, he assured me that we would be within gliding distance of the airport during most of the flight, and that we would find a road if necessary for an emergency landing. He said he had no worries about conducting a forced landing in this airplane, and that it would be highly unlikely that we would choose to depart the aircraft. That sounded good to me -- I have no interest in skydiving.

    Duke concluded the briefing by assuring me that I would have a big smile etched on my face after the flight that would likely take a few hours to go away.

    With that said, we ventured out to the FBO and waited for the winds to calm down a bit. The airplane was parked right outside a big picture window. I gazed at it longingly, not quite believing that I was really going to fly in it. The weather was a bit choppy, but after a cup of coffee it looked good enough to go. Duke led me outside and helped me climb up into the front cockpit.

    The L-39 has built-in steps for easy boarding. Duke helped me up, I got settled in the seat, and I started strapping in. I've only worn a parachute once before, and I needed help with the variety of straps. After getting into the chute I then pulled on the straps to attach me to the airplane, making sure everything was very tight. You don't want to be sliding around when pulling g's and going inverted. Throughout this process things still didn't quite seem real.

    The cockpit itself is roomy by comparison to some of the other airplanes I would fly over the next few days. The controls are well placed, and I didn't have any difficulty reaching anything. When I was completely strapped in Duke stood on the wing beside me to talk me through the engine startup procedure. I had read that many jets, especially early models, were very tricky to start. Hasty throttle movements or botched sequences often led to problems including fuel fires. However, the L-39 has a Saphire starting unit which greatly simplifies the procedure. First I pressed the turbine button and held it for about fifteen seconds. This produced a whine as the Auxiliary Power Unit (APU) began spooling up. When the turbo light illuminated on the panel I then pressed the button to light the engine, which made a *whump* sound. As the engine lit I moved the throttle up to the idle position and heard the engine fully come to life. The smell of jet fuel filled the cockpit, and it was only then that it began to feel real to me.

    With the engine running at idle, Duke hopped into the rear cockpit while I took a moment to appreciate the fact that I was sitting on top of a real live jet engine, and that we were going to go fly! Duke was quickly strapped in and talking to me on the intercom. He had me nudge the throttle forward and then we both tested our brakes. The L-39 has the same braking system as the Yak-52 which I once flew, and the MiG-15. There is a hand lever on the top part of the stick that looks like a brake lever on a bicycle. To stop straight ahead you center the rudder pedals and squeeze the handle. To turn, you move the rudder pedals to the side all the way to the stop, then squeeze the lever. The degree of turn depends not on rudder position, but on the amount of pressure with which you pull the lever. Although I had done it once before in the Yak, this type of braking is completely contrary to what I'm used to in Pipers, so I was quite jerky with it at first. Like many novices to the L-39, my tendency was to try to steer with the rudder pedals rather than using modulated amounts of brake pressure from the lever.

    After snaking around the taxiway for a moment I got it under control and we continued on out to runway 20. Duke talked to the tower and got our takeoff clearance. The Santa Fe tower controllers know that they need to get jetwarbird aircraft out quickly because they burn 5-6 gallons of fuel per minute just sitting at idle. They are very accommodating about this, and we taxied into takeoff position with no delay. Duke had me spool up the engine to check the gauges and brakes. Everything looked good and we released the brakes.

    The takeoff roll in the L-39 is initially slow, but then builds up in speed rapidly. It flew itself off the runway easily, I retracted the gear and flaps, and we began a climbing right turn toward the practice area. The plane is very pitch sensitive, but if you keep that in mind it's not difficult to control. I routinely tell students to fly with just finger pressure, and that goes double in jets. Duke suggested I point my index finger out to avoid gripping the stick too hard.

    Santa Fe is about 6500' above sea level. We climbed to 12,500' before I knew it, and again saw the pitch sensitivity as I tried to hold altitude. In a Piper or Cessna a small bump of the controls or high trim setting might result in a gain of 50-100 feet before you catch it. In the L-39 I had gained 500-1000 feet before I knew it! Apart from the pitch sensitivity there is the fact that you are sitting quite far in front of the wing, which means you don't have much of a visual reference for the pitch attitude of the aircraft. So I used the rate-of-climb indicator to get a feel for what the aircraft looked like in a climb or descent. With a few minutes' practice I could hold altitude in straight & level flight and in turns, but it took a lot of my concentration.

    After giving me a few minutes to feel out the plane, Duke called for a climb to 14,500'. As I teach my students, I rotated the plane up slightly and began to add power smoothly. But this is not a Piper Warrior. This is a jet. Duke said, "Here, let me help you with that," and then pulled back sharply on the stick. A couple of g's and PRESTO! There we were at 14,500' with me laughing.

    Duke then talked me through some slow flight, a clean stall, and a stall in the landing configuration. The plane slows down well, handles nicely, and stalls straight ahead. The thing about stall recovery in this airplane is that the engine takes about 12 seconds to spool up from idle to full power. Putting the nose down and then jerking it back up again would probably lead to a secondary stall because the engine wouldn't yet be putting out a lot of thrust. Something to keep in mind during landings.

    We took the plane out of slow flight and Duke then demonstrated two aileron rolls. Pitch up about ten degrees and hold attitude, then roll smoothly over and back to level flight. The first roll was slow, and he did the second one faster. This was the first time I had been inverted in nearly a year, and while it was enjoyable, I had to get used to it. After the two demonstrations he talked me through one. The next one I did by myself. The plane was very smooth and seemed to do what I THOUGHT. It was fantastic seeing the desert floor rotate around the bubble canopy. I also felt much more comfortable when I was executing the maneuver, which is what Duke had predicted in the briefing.

    Unfortunately, despite the fact that I was enjoying the hell out of this, I began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Embarrassed, but mindful of what I tell my own passengers, I immediately confessed. "Ah, Dale? I didn't think to bring a bag with me, and I'm starting to get a little queasy over here. . . ."

    "OK," he said. "Let's take it easy for a minute, and let's not do that loop. We need to start heading back to the airport soon anyway. When you're ready, begin a turn to the right and bring us down to 9500."

    A few minutes later I was feeling fine again. However, it turned out to be a good thing that we had begun heading back to the airport a bit early. The clouds we had been periodically dodging were starting to thicken. The tower cleared us in for a touch and go, which I flew with some coaching.

    Because of the slow engine spool up time, approaches are flown at 80% power. So in the event of a go-around the engine is already putting out some thrust to get you flying again. With gear down and full flaps the plane does a comfortable 120 knots on final approach. Glideslope can be adjusted with pitch rather than power with little speed variation.

    I had read that many new L-39 pilots get fooled by the "sight picture" on landing. It's hard to tell the pitch attitude, and another pilot had told me that during his first landing he was alarmed to see how far the nose came down before the nose wheel touched. For a moment he thought he hadn't put the gear down. Of course, I forgot about this as I actually flew the plane. I thought we were coming in flat and began pulling back on the stick to flare higher as we came over the runway threshold. After the main gear touched I saw the nose swing down about 12 degrees before the nose wheel bounced onto the runway. I then remembered what I had been told, and laughed as I realized I had fallen into the same trap.

    Duke handled the flaps and then prompted me to push the throttle forward to the stop. Up we went for one more trip around the pattern. As we lifted off we could see a snow squall approaching the other end of the runway menacingly. I pulled up into a tight turn for the downwind leg and Duke called for control as we began the base leg.

    The wind was picking up and the clouds had reached the other end of the runway at ground level as I followed Duke on the controls. Although I again felt the urge to flare higher on the touchdown, it was perfect and Duke put the plane down nicely. He worked the brakes to get us off at the earliest possible taxiway, but the snow hit us during our landing rollout. Duke exclaimed, "Man! If we had delayed landing for a minute longer we would have had been on our way to Albuquerque!"

    After shutting down on the ramp we went inside to warm up and de-brief the flight. Duke remarked that I did indeed have a big smile on my face!

    I was very impressed with the L-39, especially the ease of procedures. Although things happened a lot faster than I was used to, I could envision becoming very friendly with that airplane over time. I was reminded of a week's visit to Italy a few years ago -- I wasn't there long enough to speak the language well, but could feel it beginning to soak in. That's how I felt about the L-39 after a 45-minute flight.

    As a flight instructor, it was good for me to be behind the airplane and be a little intimidated. It's easy to forget how primary students feel on their first few flights. Duke had the calm and reassuring demeanor that I see in good instructors and teachers, and I aspire to reach that level myself.

    On the down side, I was disappointed in my apparent lack of tolerance for aerobatics. I had really been looking forward to throwing the airplanes around the sky, and it now looked like I might not be able to take it. But that would be tomorrow's worry. Today was for enjoying my first jet flight.