Before I continue, I’ll wait until you stop laughing.
The Pitts is an aerobatic tailwheel biplane with a reputation for being difficult to fly and especially land. Truth is, it is not a “hard” airplane to fly at all. However, it is wildly different from a typical trainer. What that means is it takes some getting used to because it subjects the student to aviating at the most basic levels. If training in a Pitts, you’re learning unvarnished flying skills that most training aircraft, and the instructors flying them, gloss over and approximate. They’re not doing this on purpose but because all airplanes are designed to be safely and easily flown by the weakest link in whatever market segment they’re intended for. The exception to that rule is the Pitts Special. “Easy” is not part of its design goals. So, in normal straight and level aviating, the Pitts teaches pure, basic airmanship in a way that the benefits of doing it “right” as opposed to “good enough” are clearly visible. During the first few hops, regardless of how much time a student has logged and what they’ve been flying (assuming it’s not a similar type), they often comment that they feel as if they’re learning to fly all over again.
I’m basing those claims on more 10,000 hours of dual given, with at least 7,500 of those hours in the pattern teaching students to land Pitts Specials. Some of those students had zero tailwheel time and some had only 50 to 60 hours total. Additionally, I’ve had the pleasure of checking out three amputees, one amputated above his knee, so he couldn’t push the rudder with that leg. If that doesn’t knock the stuffing out of the mystique of the Pitts, I don’t know what does.
The Pitts has no aerodynamic compromises aimed at making the airplane easier to fly. That’s because changes with “easier” in mind hurt performance, and the primary goal of a Pitts Special, being an aerobatic airplane, is maximum performance. With no aerodynamic efforts to make the airplane fool-proof, characteristics like adverse yaw and P-factor are obvious and not just theories seen only in ground school. Also, because a Pitts has more engine and less airplane, the effects of anything having to do with power are much more noticeable.
For example, when climbing out in virtually any common trainer (Cessna 172, Piper Cherokee, and so on), you can basically ignore the skid ball because it’ll only move a fraction of a ball out of center if not corrected. Take your foot off the rudder in the Pitts on climbout and the skid ball will dart toward the right end of the tube and the airplane will eagerly try to turn left. Very minor pressure on the right rudder centers the ball.
In a normal trainer, letting the skid ball do what it wants costs performance; however, it is so subtle the pilot might not notice the difference. In a Pitts, the yaw induced by unchecked P-factor in climb results in as much as 400 fpm less climb rate and a strong urge to turn.
Pilots assume that the focus on checkouts is the landings themselves. Not true. The landings are secondary to improving basic airmanship. Yes, landings have their own challenges, but most of those challenges are the result of weak basic flying skills that result in crooked, drifting touchdowns. Land a Pitts a little crooked or drifting and you’re a busy bear on rollout.
The students who have come my way over the years have 50 to more than 20,000 hours total time, and most are already certificated. In looking back, I can honestly say I can’t tell the high timers from the newbies, instructors from students, airline and military pilots from grassroots beginners. Universally, they are all weak in the same basic airmanship skills, and those are the areas in which a Pitts excels in teaching.
It is the rare pilot who doesn’t habitually drag a little outside aileron in turns. This is especially true when turning power-off base and power-off final where P-factor is complicating the maneuver. In the descent, P-factor is always trying to pull the nose right so constant left rudder is needed throughout the approach to keep the ball centered. At the same time adverse yaw generated in making the turns demands rudder of its own.
One of the most delightful aspects of a Pitts, or any serious aerobatic airplane, is the lightness of the controls and how amazingly effective they are. Every normal, certified airplane has dead spots in the control system where, for instance, the ailerons can be moved a little and nothing happens. There are no dead spots in any of the Pitts’ controls. If you move the aileron an almost imperceptible amount, the airplane will immediately start to bank. At the same time adverse yaw will kick in unless a subtle rudder input, a pressure really, stops it.
People who don’t fly a Pitts will say its reputed willingness to immediately move in response to control inputs makes it squirrelly. However, it’s not. It is reactive. If you ask it to do something, it’ll deliver immediately. If you don’t want something to happen don’t move anything. A favorite line Curtis Pitts would use when countering the charge that his airplanes are squirrely is: “There’s no such thing as a squirrely airplane, just squirrely pilots.”
After a few hours in a Pitts, normal airplanes will seem boring.
The first flight is out into the practice area to explore some of the differences we hammer on in the three-hour ground school. Then we start flying bounce-and-go approaches where the instant we touch the runway power comes up. I call those first approaches the deer-in-the-headlights flights.
During the first approach the student is often in awe of the extreme differences the airplane presents. I’ve thought about naming the airplane Sensory Overload because that’s the way most students react to it the first few times around the pattern. Traffic permitting, all our approaches will be short and power-off. We try to do that so the student develops a visual understanding of where the airplane will go if we lose power. I believe any airplane that can be landed power off should be landed power off as often as practical. Then, if the engine fails, the pilot will know where it’s going ahead of time.
A power-off landing in a Cessna 172 takes less than three minutes. In a Pitts, it’s 45 to 55 seconds, so initially most students are overcome by the sheer magnitude and rapidity of events. The first time we turn base, students routinely think we’re far too high and will never get down in time. However, power might be needed. The definition of “high” varies from airplane to airplane. The Pitts’ angle and rate of descent is initially breathtaking. However, by the end of the second hour, the process ceases to look impossible and by hour three it’s just an exciting challenge.
There is not a single second during any part of the pattern where the student isn’t having his basic skill package and mental senses challenged. Those challenges are teaching basics which students have always known existed, but this is the first time they’ve seen the effect they have. However, while they’re doing this I’m inside their head like the voice chronicling a YouTube video in which they’re the main character.
On approach, we concentrate on maintaining speeds, making ball-centered turns, and maintaining a track across the ground that puts us right on centerline, square and with no drift. Everything is precise, something the airplane is born to teach. This is when the most repeated phrase to come out of my mouth is, “Feel your butt! Center the ball!”
I separate the landing process into three specific learning phases:
1. Flying the pattern and making bounce-and-go touchdowns. That’ll be three hours or so, depending on the student.
2. The student will do as many high-speed taxiing runs down the runway as is needed for them to see what’s happening and how to maintain a straight path. Students transitioning into a two-place airplane will be in the back seat, which is the command position. If they’re going into a single-place airplane, they stay in the front where the sight picture closely matches what they’ll be flying.
3. We combine the skills learned doing high-speed taxis and bounce-and-goes and start doing full-stop, taxi-back landings.
High-speed taxis are where everything the student has heard about the airplane is staring them right in the face. The factor that makes the airplane more demanding on the runway than something like a Citabria or Cub is the airplane’s speed at touchdown. We approach at 90 mph and are on the runway at 68 to 70 mph in an S-2A. A Citabria is doing 45 to 50 mph at that point and a Cub 35 to 40 mph. The Pitts is much faster so things happen faster. Students initially feel as if they’re riding a rifle bullet, but they acclimate to that very quickly. That’s why we do the high-speed taxis. By the way, this is easily the most dangerous thing I do in the airplane.
With the bounce-and-goes and high-speed taxis behind us, it’s time to do the takeoffs and landings for real. Generally, the first takeoff amazes and delights the students so much that they’re close to laughing. This is also their first exposure to the combination of gyroscopic precession from raising the tail quickly and the airplane’s willingness to turn if the student’s right foot isn’t in it. I simplify the whole process by positioning the stick slightly forward of neutral and letting the tail come up on its own. Done that way the airplane has almost no tendency to turn left because precession is a function of how rapidly the angle of the rotating disk that is the propeller is changed. Then, hold a slightly positive angle of attack and let the airplane fly off when it’s ready. As it begins to lift off, it’ll try to
move left (P-factor) and the pilot’s right foot becomes useful. During this process the student will be changing visual focus from one side of the nose to the other, not looking straight ahead, and depending on peripheral vision (that’s a subject for another entire article).
At that point it’s difficult for students to keep from laughing because the takeoff is so much fun. Landings are no different than three-pointing any taildragger, but they’re happening much faster. The technique is simple: Hold it off in a three-point attitude, watch both sides, and let the airplane come down on its own. The stick comes back as the speed burns off and the student is back to doing high-speed taxis. They’ve been there before.
At that point, my work is done, and I’ve created another Pittsaholic. More important, another pilot has mended holes in their flying skills and will, forever, reap the benefits.