daveb

Well its in. First flight today. Thanks for the advice received in this thread. All of it was used. Anyone who could do this install easily, the first time, has my respect. I got to do a fair bit myself while paying others to redo there work until I was happy! Now its done, it really would be fairly straight forward to do again. Just a one hour test flight so far. I had an extra 50 revs on takeoff and was able to achieve nearly an extra 100 when firewalled. That’s interesting as I was expecting mainly a smoother engine and better fuel consumption but not really thinking there would be much change flat out. The engine didn’t seem smoother at all, fuel consumption was 22 litres for 64 minutes including taxi time, it was 26 to 28 litres for a similar flight before the ignition change. I need to do a few long runs to really know whats happening. A funny thing, going out the canard was vibrating in a new way. I’d also replaced the nose gear NG6 with NG6A, which was quite a job, and I think all the play in the old bushes must have dampened the taxiway wobbles. She was fine once the revs were up and normal in the air. So now I’m thinking maybe my prop could be balanced better too…..?

Thanks for the input. Turns out its being installed mostly for me. Three days work so far. Then I get asked things I don’t know. The instructions call for a 5 amp resetable breaker. Should this be positioned so it can be reset in flight? I guess the obvious answer is yes, I’m asking as I have a bit of a real estate problem. Do they pop on occasions? Given I’ll have one unused mag switch, is it usual practice to connect this as the Plasma ON-OFF while by passing the Master? (I have no key start, just the mag switches and Master) Many thanks

Re Plane Power alternators I have about 100 hours with the AL12-E160 and no problems. They have a good reputation at our airfield with some very fussy avionics installers and I’ve seen them in certified PA28 where I’m told they are excellent (I assume the AL12-F60) . I found them a very good company to deal with even sending me a small part I needed for free.

Got the crank sensor and its an 0-235 L2C. The mags had to come out for a check during my annual, one was nearly dead. A CDI was on the list so nows the time. It looks like I'm the installer with 'professional supervision' which has turned out to be a surprise. The LAME overlooking has never seen one of these systems. So, thinking the electronics box goes behind the passenger headrest space as I've seen in one LE installation pic - less heat and vibration. Should this be mounted on rubber spacers or OK flush? How I route the wires through, little gromets or whatever, mounting parts on the engine, holding all the cables is what I'm hoping to see in a few photos. See, no clue...

Installing a single Lightspeed Plasma III ignition next week in a Long-EZ. While the instructions are reasonably clear, pictures would be a great help for the details along with any gotchyas you might like to mention. Thank-you

Part 2 With time up my sleeve I had a feeling I should go to Esperance. The plan, stay a few days before my talks in Albany which was only a couple of hundred miles further on. The next few hours were some of the most memorable of my time in the air. I flew over the water at around six hundred feet, just enough to get back if I had to. There were three hundred foot cliffs that stretched as far as you could see into the distance, like someone had made Australia with a giant cookie cutter. These ran on for hours. Inland it was dead flat all the way to the horizon. Every now and again the coastline would open up into wonderful deserted beaches. Two areas had sand dunes that looked like giant blobs of whipped cream, I just had to play in those for a while. Further on, dotted down the coast were whales with calves quietly doing whatever whales do just off the beaches. This is the Great Australian Bight and not many would have seen it the way I did. Eighty miles out of Esperance begins the Archipelago of the Recherche. Don’t ask me how to pronounce it, I can tell you of the extraordinary beauty of hundreds of islands. All this culminates at Mt Le Grande which turned out to be in a National Park that I flew all over. Put it on your list. Landed at Esperance and tied her down on a concrete pad. These had chains imbedded into them with very professional looking ropes attached. Most thoughtful and I made full use even though I couldn’t imagine anything moving a Long-EZ once the nose wheel is retracted. One of the delights I have in travelling alone is to arrive somewhere with no plans and a credit card. Just see what happens next. The airport lounge was empty but open airside. There were tourism broachers and local info. After a while I decided to stay five days and ended up hiring a car. Everything is easy after that. A few hours later I had a great room overlooking the sea, wireless broadband, a new car and lots to explore. You never know what you might find in a small coastal town. Well I found Skylab! Really big pieces of it were sitting in the local museum after it had made its way back to earth in 1979. Circuit boards, water heaters all sorts of things. I thought space stuff would look different somehow but it had regular screws and fittings. Another day was spent visiting some of the places I’d flown over on the way in. Very old rocks and formations that tell there own stories. Things look very different depending on your point of view. Then it was Sunday and really blowing a gale after a fair bit of overnight wind. I just had the feeling I should go and check the plane. On the way I spontaneously started using one of the exercises used in my talks. They help create a deeper prospective in life and promote the overview. I was feeling quite calm as I parked the car. The wind sock looked like a stiff piece of wood nailed at right angles to a pole. As I got nearer the plane, it didn’t seem quite where I’d left it. Only two tie downs were left, the third one had broken at a knot and just sat there like a dead snake on the tarmac. My little girl had been flung around so that her lower wing tip and the canard were seriously scraped right down to the foam core. The left wheel pant contour filler which had always had a large crack now had an opening that could fit two credit cards. An omen perhaps? I checked myself over, no regrets, no ‘what ifs’, no blame game, not even a raised heart beat. I just looked at the damage and wondered if I was going to be able to fly on or if this was it. Seems the talking stuff I do was working. After a few photos, a really good look and a think, I tied her down again, this time with extra ropes. Back in the room and straight to the canard forum for advice. Here was a great knowledge pool I could tap into created by a band of unseen and mostly unmet friends. While alone on my journey, I was very grateful for those who took the time to offer advice and assistance. This generosity is truly appreciated. It looked like I was dealing with non-structural issues and now had a repair plan a little different to my initial thoughts. My mind wander over the many posts I’d read and the hours spent going over the plans at home trying to understand how anyone could build these things. I could see that if the wheel pants were secure I should be fine. The rest was superficial. The next day a trip to “Bunnings Aerospace” (local hardware) for some tape and glue got things back in order. My tire pressures hadn’t changed and I ran lines of glue over the cracks, checked angles, inspected bolts and did quite a few taxi runs. Everything felt good and my glue was undisturbed with heavy braking. The tape was holding well and as it was the same colour as the plane, it didn’t even look too bad. Game on. The last leg was to Albany, another beautiful coastal town and the site of the last commercial whaling operation in Australia. More extraordinary coastal flying, more whales, more islands, more mountains, more beaches more of the most incredible blue water I have ever seen. I was well rewarded for taking the time on this trip. A headwind all the way and I went the longest route you could. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Wonderful people in Albany. I did my talks and had a good time. I took my host for a ride in the Long and she loved it. In fact I was probably turning the plane a bit too much so we could see down below. If you passenger says they are fine but goes a bit quiet it turns out they are having a great time so don’t want you to land and are feeling quite sick all at the same time. Pity my notebook computer has a poor battery, pity it has a short lead, pity I can be clumsy. Pity about tripping over the chord, pity about the fall to the ground and a real pity about the, “click of death”, the hardware equivalent of BSOD (blue screen of death) it was an echo from a year earlier when the engine wouldn’t start. In the end, my credit card got thinner, I enjoy the wonders of Vista on my new machine and use an 8 gig USB chip for backing up backups. A lot of the trip photos were gone, a much better write up than this one of course and I got to test out the effectiveness of my special exercises again. The day before I left while preparing the plane, four air force PC9/A’s landed just as I was getting ready to refuel. A couple of them did the super low circuit thing and it looked great. I think anything with an ejection seat has to be very cool even if they are only trainers before you get into the jets. My avgas bowser was right next to the A1 fuel where they ended up. These eight guys get out in their flight suits and military badges and I watch them carefully as my little EZ sat there on her nose. Not one of them looked at me or the EZ, not even once, not even a glance. I was invisible. It would take years of practice to be so good at not looking at a little plane right next to your own. These guys were just too cool for words. I had to pick my days for the return. It is winter after all, the weather had closed in and I could just see a two day forecasted window in between at least a week of storms and rain. Even then it was going to be tight. A different mission on the way back. Go fast and straight. Wheels up just after the sun the next morning. It looked like I have a 15 knot tailwind although this dropped off later. At last the GPS numbers were respectable. I’m now on a mission for an extra 20 knots still air cruise speed, I like those numbers. Just on six hours for the first leg to Ceduna of 867 nautical miles. I got to fill my bottle a couple of times and the spill rate has come down since the last trip. Quick refuel for the plane and I’m airborne. Still fantastic flying. Straight to Whyalla this time rather than coastal. Over desolate country with light showers of rain, flying over rainbows too. Its quite something when they form below you. Of course it also means precipitation, the enemy of the wooden propeller. I’ve got my eye on the time now and trying to see how far I’ll make it before last light. I’ve crossed so much land going East that the local clock has advanced an hour and a half, what looks like 4pm is really 5:30. It was later than you’d think especially as it started raining a bit more seriously than forecast. Sort of brings on an earlier darkness too. I plan a diversion from Renmark to the closer Waikerie and feel pretty happy when I see a big black strip waiting for me. By the time I’m tied down, wet and soggy, my torch and I wanter over to the only light on the airfield. There’s a guy in a hanger putting three jet engines on his glider. Seems like I’d come to the right place for a chat and a lift into town. Next day back at the field I get a fascinating story and a tour. He is also building a Glasair and has 3000 hours in the wings. Beautiful workmanship. I’m then introduced to the local guru who is just off to the World Gliding Championships as the technical person for keeping the gliders flying right. I used to have a self launcher and he recognized my old rego, this all led to an in depth lecture on drag reduction as he inspected my Long which has plenty of room for improvement. It was as much about testing procedures, building an enquiring mind, learning to think clearly and just wonder why and what might happen if you do something. It was very much like I do in my workshops talks, all coming back from an unexpected angle. It was a real treat. It’s less than three hours flying from home. I get a call from the former owner of my EZ who tells me the weather is really good in Melbourne. Time to launch. In less than an hour I’m down low and looking for horizon under clouds as I dodge and fly through showers. Not ideal. While I wanted to make it back with only one fuel stop, its one thing I don’t want to have to worry about. I’d already found myself backtracking and sidestepping for an hour ensuring I didn’t get caught out. I make it to Stawell less than 150 miles from home and put a little bit of comfort margin in both tanks. I don’t like to close the butterfly and slow down in rain due to concerns about icing, I know my prop won’t thank me in the morning. Its definitely going to need a little paint later. Soon I’m through the worst of it, the weather is fine over Melbourne and I’m going to make it home. A few words to Moorabbin tower and its back into the world of traffic and controllers. My tie down spot is waiting for me on the grass and one slightly battered Long-EZ and grateful pilot are home. Total time logged was 29.3 hours with 26.5 flight hours at flight speed. A hardly impressive 129 knots average for the 3,433 nautical miles which was quite a long way rubber necking out the window. Once the plane is healed, maybe its time for a look at that east coast of Australia.

Part 1 This all began a year ago and not quite to plan. Off to Adelaide for one of my speaking engagements. Just a few hours to the west. Leaving it until Friday for a Saturday gig is hardly great planning. What was I thinking? The plane was full to the brim with fuel and luggage. Funny thing about slow moving high pressure systems in winter. Fog. I was ready and the airport was closed. The worst fog I have ever seen in Melbourne and it just wasn’t going away. Midday, still closed. I started to look at last light and flight times. I needed wheels up by 2:30pm. 1pm still fog, I’ve never seen anything like this. 2pm a hint of it lifting, I called the tower and asked if I could have an engine start, the reply was, ‘Well if you think you can remain in VMC…’ 2:15pm OK this is eating into my buffer. Last chance and the fog starts to lift, We’re on! Do the checks, “Clear prop”, I yell and hit the button. There was no need to yell, the prop turned like a tired old Faris wheel, the Long EZ gave a couple of coughs and gave up. Dead battery? I’ve never hand started this lady. Full of fuel asking the old girl to kneel might make her throw up in the back seat, I’d heard stories. Flying is enough of a high without petrol fumes. Maybe if I pressed the button, but more nicely? She finally just clicked like a dead computer hard drive. It turns out my battery was clairvoyant and mimicking the fun yet to come. OK, admit it, the window had closed and I was sitting in a tub of fibreglass going nowhere. Climb out, grab the bags, get the plane covers from the car and put her to bed. Move on. Hurry off to the aero club to book the next commercial spam can. Arranged to jump on a nice Virgin Blue flight, which is painted red and the other status I’m not sure about. My eticket wouldn’t print. Do I risk going to an airport without a ticket? After all, the day was going so well. Nope, so I beg the nice people at the club for use of their main computer. That printer is down as well. OK forget it, cancel the ticket. Pack up and race home. Book and print, then in the car for the long drive to the city airport. Its nearly 4pm, the fog is back I would have been in Adelaide now if the plane had started or maybe not. VMC it aint. I do my Adelaide stuff and return with a few weeks to go before I’m due way out West to Perth on the other side of the country. The weather never broke with a succession of storms and I wimped out and did the disappointing spam can thing again. Roll on another year. This time its Adelaide and then Albany, just out of Perth. I’m booked to speak and decide that time will be my friend with lots of planning and many days to spare. I’m really hoping there will be nothing to write about except clear skies and a long flight. How wrong can I be? The Long started beautifully in the winter sun. I’d flight planned through Class C airspace from the south to the GA airport just out of Adelaide. Still nervous about those controllers, it was time to bite the bullet and get used to them. In ya face! A fantastic flight over open country. Then a very strange place like the surface of another planet with odd little hills. Lines like Martian canals formed below me as I flew over first the Little desert and then the Big desert, carefully named by imaginative explorers clearly low on water. Forty miles from my inbound reporting point I started listening in to approach. Some dumb VFR pilot was refused entry, no idea where he was going to go. I was OK because I had a flight plan in the system right? I was on time, they would be expecting me and have my name on one of those little cards in the queue, right?. I couldn’t get the ATIS for my destination yet. Still, as I was now 20 miles out, I called up in my most professional voice and said, “Adelaide radar, Long-EZ JZE request”. See, no demands, just considerate of the busy time they might be having, how polite of me. He gets back to me, I tell him who, where, what, and how about a clearance please. “Clearance not available. Proceed via Para”. What! Not available and what’s a Para anyway? I’ve learnt a couple of tricks now with these guys. I quip, “JZE unfamiliar Adelaide, request vectors.” I figure its on tape, he refused entry, if he also refuses to help and I stuff up, we both get into trouble. “Proceed 020 and stay East of the hills not above 2,500.” I had to think about that. Adelaide is due Northish and the hills are nearly 3000’ . Hang on, East is the right hand side where I see nothing except high ground. Para is one of those reporting points way to the North I’d looked at. All of a sudden its gyrocopter mode. Proceed in the likely direction, avoid anything taller than you are. I creep out to the East a little more and get ordered back. “Diverted due to terrain”. Maybe I should have asked first. He keeps vectoring me back, hugging the low ground. This was getting to be serious fun if it wasn’t so serious. All I see are hills, trees and the occasional string of washing lines. Time wise I had to be getting close. The controller is giving me the Cooks tour pointing out landmarks as we go. I’ll be on my own next time with no excuses. Controllers revenge. Finally he gives me 3000’ after I bleat something about a big hill with instructions for immediate decent when clear. That decent had to be into Parafield, my GAAP destination. I asked him for the ATIS but he just said he’d hand me over. I was sort of interested in runway and wind to get the picture so I sneaked a listen when he was talking to the big guys. “JZE are you clear to descend?”, all I’m seeing is hillside so I tell him 30 seconds and he leaves me alone. Wow over the top, huge view, city, ocean carb heat, engine idle, and I need to be at 1500’ for an immediate inbound call and look for a runway. I’m two minutes out. Cleared to change I call up the tower, give him the story and add unfamiliar Parafield. Yeah milk it while ya can. They baby me in all the way to the tie down area. After the Long is secure I call up an old friend and get the run of the place. We chat with some guys with a very strange plane with a huge javelin sticking out the back. I’d seen its sibling way up North. Turns out it’s the same company and the big poles are for sensing minerals in the ground, sort of aerial sniffing and you have to keep your long nose away from the instruments. So I did coffee in the local flying school met the bosses, chatted with everyone nice friendly bunch and waited for my ride. Did my talks and returned some days later, fuelled her up and ready for that last important item before every long flight. Well, without my local friend they wouldn’t let me in the airside school buildings. “Go out the gate and about half a mile down the road are facilities.” They yelled through a glass door. Thanks a lot. I returned to the plane filled my flight bottle and emptied it thoughtfully before departure. The airspace around Parafield going Northwest is about 2 miles wide. 30 seconds too long on takeoff and you are not in the right place. Turn too soon or too late you are in the wrong place, wander a little and someone will notice very quickly. Funny thing is after takeoff, allowing for all those ‘what if’ safety things and then getting the nose down it turned out that the places on the ground didn’t have nice labels like the ones on the map. I’d spent quite a lot of time planning this. Very disappointing. “JZE turn left, you are approaching a Military control zone”. Opps. Ok back on the heading, where are all these landmarks. Its like trying to fly up a gooses neck. Can’t go left, can’t go right. Must be OK here. “Aircraft North of Parafield move to the East of the road, you are about to enter a live firing range.” OK that would be the red stuff on the map just to the left of the red stuff on the right. Given I did not wish to become any redder than my face, I felt a new appreciation for my brothers and sisters in the tower. That was the last time I talked to a controller for the next two weeks. I figured they had had enough of me and to be honest there may have been a mutual feeling. I became the silent listener. My track took me north to Port Pirie where I jumped the water to Whyalla over Spencer Gulf. Any further north and it’s a large restricted zone, any further South and its more water than I like to cross without a life jacket. From here its nothing but follow the coastline westward, every twist and turn. Low cloud forced me down below 1000’ most of the way. I could see clearly it was better inland, going in a straight line is faster too. That’s not the point. There was an almost unnerving eerie beauty to the twists and turns, strange inlets and odd mountains. Sometimes it was hard to know which way the coast went as huge areas of water opened beneath me revelling long peninsulas with little sign of habitation. Then over Ceduna and coastal to the Nullarbor Motel at the ‘Head of the Great Australian Bight’, my destination for overnight. The motel is really just a petrol station on the Nullarbor road with a long runway and accommodation. Google earth showed me it was long enough to land and a phone call said the surfaced was fine and they had avgas. Perfect. I always thought the Nullarbor was a huge stretch of desert with some of the longest straight bits of road in the world. I saw a sea of low vegetation and long beaches from the air. My flight strategy was fly slightly out to sea and look back without having to bank, this way I could watch the beautiful coastline all the way. Just short of the motel was what turned out to be a bit of a tourist destination, a swamp, curious landscapes and whales. I was yet to see a whale that wasn’t on TV or reverse filleted in a museum. These guys looked like really big fishes from the air. It has to be big if you can see them from a plane. I watched the whales for a while after doing my radio calls. Turns out there was some other guy ‘in the zone’. Yes in the middle of nowhere I’d found another special bit of airspace. He was doing tourist runs from my destination, it was all good. Landing at the motel was fun. The runway was excellent. I taxied off the end in-between a few old buildings only to look down and see broken glass and bits of metal next to my tires. The airbrake stayed down, mixture very lean and I took my time. Its sort of fun to drive your plane down a road to the back of a motel. Not a public road, OK, really a taxi way, but fun all the same. I secured the Long like I was tying up my horse to a hitching post and wandered into the ‘food area’ where I bought a soft drink some mints and had a nice chat with the girl there. Then forked out nearly $11 for the privilege. Now there’s a clue about supply and demand economics. Next off to the accommodation area where what must have been the twin sister of the girl took care of my requirements. I soon found the pilot of the only other plane, a Cessna 182, who was doing the whale flights. We chatted flying and local conditions for a while and I asked about food in the restaurant. He gave me a funny look, said it was really good and I said, “OK, maybe I’d see you then”. At dinner, the waitress arrived who looked exactly like the other two girls. I’m starting to think ‘cloning’. That would also explain the prices. She took my order and before long a guy came out with my food wearing a cravat and waiters uniform. He looked exactly like the pilot. Something odd was happening. I looked outside the window and there was the strangest dingo I have ever seen. It moved like a hyena, short quick little steps on its toes and its tail seemed glued to its back legs. I thought dingos looked like domestic dogs, this was something else. I’m starting to think medical experiments and wonder about the meat I’m eating. Its finish up quickly and pay up to another girl who looks just like the waitress. Then straight to my room and lock the door. The weather for this trip was always going to be a challenge. Next day had incoming sandstorms and winds over 40 knots on the ground. Check those tie downs and do a bit of study was the plan for the day. I saw three more dingos but they just seemed like regular dogs just looking for food. What was that creature from the night before? I organized refuelling and asked about the morning tank tests and drains. The guy sort of gave me a funny look and said he’d be happy to do any tests if I’d tell him how. Well the 182 wasn’t having problems, that turned out to be my test kit. Next time I’ll be taking Mr Funnel with me. Oh, and the cost of the fuel was best described as ‘memorable’. Another night and I payed up to one of the identical girls. The pilot was off doing a passenger run. I never saw the waiter again. Time to get back in the saddle.

In the picture I dont have anymore, you would have seen the neat loop and then a length of rope suddenly terminated. This was where a knot was and they had melted the knot itself, not the end of the rope.

In the spirit of wanting to learn why this happened, I had a good look at where the rope broke. Now I'd show you the photo but I dropped my laptop last night and killed the hard drive where it was downloaded to. Also loosing a very funny and very long story about this trip. I wish to report sense of humor is still intact, unlike the rope. It may be wearing just a touch thin in places, also unlike the rope. Which is fine except for being in two pieces. Like the hard drive. It broke, thats the rope, because of the wind, it broke when perhaps ropes don't break because on inspection it had been "heat treated". The nylon had been melted at the knot where it came apart. Nice cosmetic touch. While not reporting an incident, I sort out the local airport guy to mention that the supplied ropes may be unsuitable. Turns out the ropes were placed there by visiting pilots and left behind. The airfield policy is to cut them off so the airfield can not be responsible for anything after the supplied chain embedded in concrete. They just hadn't gotten around to cutting these ones off. They also had a parking bay behind some trees. I though that would be no good in case a tree came down but local knowlege says use that one in case the wind turns around another 30 degrees 'cause then it gets nasty' and the trees JUST give that corner protection. The three parking bays that I saw with tasty attached ropes I sort of thought would suit local conditions. I also had no idea that a LE could be thrown like a rag doll in what appeared to be just usual 30 knot stuff. WRONG. Next question is what way to place the aircraft. Coming from gliding we went tail into wind as the parked angle of attack is not far off flying angle. In GA they taught me nose into wind. After this incident I'm thinking, sounds strange, that upright rudder into wind with two ropes making the airflow along the wing is perfect. Problem was in this case the wind moved a good 30+ degrees. I just tied it down in the bays as the bays permitted and suggested. I'm thinking this angled approach as this is where the plane ended up and it seemed pretty stable there, with the one rope taking most of the strain. Whatever is best nose down, all that weight and our unusual wing arrangement might mean the conventional tie down approach is not the best one if you have to be outside in the breeze.

The airfield supplied rope broke. Maybe I should have trusted my own skinny ones and my own tie down points. The chain thing looked pretty good. Had a funny knot where it broke. Looked the part.

Thanks for volunteering Drew with so many people as witnesses. You get to practice building all sorts of things before making them for your own plane. Think what a better job you will do on your second canard, wing and pants installation. ...and cutting bits off? Thats just bonus raw fun. You lucky guy!

Did the patch up today. Canard took a hit as well which makes sense as you think through the actions. So thats Canard repair, winglet repair and wheel pants. Time for new pants anyway. Get rid of the old clogs. So which pants are fastest? (5" wheels) The RV pressure recovery type? Have to put a second antenna into the left wing soon so that comes off anyway. I liked the Canard just the way it was. Need help to think of a good thing for that coping it too! Did a very close inspection, canard attachment etc all feels AOK. Put a bead of glue around the pants cracks and did a few taxi runs to 50 knots, braking and turning etc. The bead was undisturbed. Found some 100mph tape - it really is called that - didn't know. Everything feels normal - quite a relief. I'll do some tests around the field tomorow otherwise its head off Westward. Except its raining outside tonight. Every day an adventure. Thanks to all.

Thanks to all for the input. Sounds like epoxy and tape at this stage. Unfamiliar with the 100mph thing. Does it have an Aussie brand name or type? Fall back position is Nashua Gaffer if I can get it. I understand that stuff. Up to 20 hours to run and a couple of weeks before home. See what happens tomorrow.

Here's a pic of the tear.

On a big trip again, 14 hours flight time West of home. Just visited the plane as I was concerned about some high winds. She has pulled and broken one serious tie down rope, the others were intact. Must have been something to drag a heavy LE with its bumper on the ground. It looks like the lower winglet bounced on the ground as the plane was sort of slung around about six feet. Damage is to this winglet. Also there was already substantial cracking in the filler around the wheel pants. Been this way for some years. One crack has opened up on the wheel that dragged and some filler on the inside is also missing. Looks Ok otherwise. I have one day to repair and two possible days to fly out before the weather closes in again. Assuming She is flyable and survives the current two cold fronts moving through with the extra ropes added today. There is no one on the field and no possibility of moving her alone in the current winds. I ask your advice and comments on my ideas to go forward. 1. Temporary repair to lower winglet. Do I use epoxy to stabilize first or just go ahead with the local version of Bondo and tidy things up. There is a lot of flying to do before I get home. 2. The wheels look ok despite the cracking. I plan to check the tire pressure then do a few taxi runs and check the braking, steering and ensure things feel and act normally. If not, it’s no fly. 3. Work some epoxy into the pants filler cracks just to protect the prop in case any of it loosens. 4. If I use overnight epoxy can I apply it and ‘Bondo’ over the top before it sets? Suggestions welcome please. I’ve read that this lower winglet is removed on some planes and it doesn’t look like I have structural issues with the wing itself. Anything to look for in particular? Pics - winglet damage and there is a slight tear that needs attention not so visible, wheel spat filler crack, distance the plane moved - hard to see the how thick the broken rope was, wheels- seems a bit lop sided in the photo but looks normal to me on site. Many Thanks (guess I get to do a full write up later on this trip...) ...currently in Esperance, W.A. Australia.

Just the original arc (I think). She was finished in 1988. ____________________ Dave VH-JZE

My EZ lets in a lot of air at the torque tube. It looks like it's had a block of foam and perhaps other things glued around this area. Unsuccessfully. Given this is not a good place for anything to get jammed. May I ask for a suggestion here please? No luck searching posts. Many Thanks __________________ Dave VH-JZE

Part 2 Did my thing in Cairns then looked to the WX for the return. I kept a day to set her up with a refuel and pumped those tires which is a major job with my old style wheel pants. I think they are more like clogs are to running shoes these days. Now the refueller was an interesting guy. When he saw me he said , “No offence mate but you look like the sort of guy who’d fly a plane like that.” No offence taken. Turns out he has done over 10,000 parachute jumps and does the webbed flying suit thing. Everyone has an interesting story if you bother to ask. We were having such a good chat he managed to spill a lot of fuel over the wing. That’s OK, he had a rag for me to use and I got a few bugs off in the clean up process. We kept talking and he managed to spill fuel over the other wing too. Well I knew my tanks were definitely full and as a bonus there were less bugs, I’m pretty sure they were all dead by then. I thought I got all the avgas cleaned off but now there are stains on one wing. Maybe the new ‘O’ rings leached a bit of something. Well, a few battle scars are part of ‘the look’. Departure day and checking the prop showed almost no compression on one cylinder when I pulled it through. I had a stuck value once that freed itself after a run. Anyway three out of four ain't bad. All ops were normal on the flight up, the temps rock solid and oil usage was just 300 or 400 ml. I had a couple of airfields on the way out before the unlandable stuff. Game on. You experts might laugh at this, it was my second time departing a Class C. Knowing exactly what to say and do is not really a conversation but an exercise in precision. Words have exact meanings. I can’t push the button and say, Hiya guys, OK if I go home now?” Mind if I wander out onto the runway and bug off?” So I’d already phoned the tower to check procedure for departure. I got a very friendly guy, he said that controllers were often considered difficult by pilots but they were really there to help out. I asked if there were any radio problems at his end. Nope, no problems except for loss of all contact behind the hill next to the runway. He went on saying they encouraged people to visit the tower, have a coffee with them and see that they are ordinary humans. NO WAY was I going up to that tower. I happen to know that controllers are seven foot giants with moustaches, rapier wit and tongues of steel! After all, I’ve met Spodman. <grin> So getting up at 5:30am for a planned 8:00am wheel up worked out about right. I called for my airways clearance on the SMC/DEP frequency and despite a bit of break-up then went for a taxi clearance. After a run up it was off to the holding point and change to tower frequency. Pushed the button and saw an error message actually written in a little box on the radio screen. Not good. Pressed again and something got through. Tried again and finally heard the words ‘line up’. Rolled out and caught ‘cleared’ and ‘right’ – I figured this was cleared for take off and ‘turn right’ on departure which was what I was expecting. Said it right back to him and got out of there! In the air I turn South of the big hill and a could hear my clearance for climb to 8500’. Let me tell you, filled to the brim with fuel at max TOW it was hardly an elegant ascent. The 0-235 was working hard, yet temps remained solid. Once off the tower frequency the radio was pretty good again. What’s with that? I continued to squawk the assigned code and was told later I was cleared to change frequencies. OK, moved to area on the radio but not sure if this means I go back to the standard VFR code for transponder. So I left it alone. They had stopped talking to me anyway. A big first leg of well over five hours and this time with a proper headwind and a new plastic bottle with a firmly fitting top. I was planning on Charleville for refuelling. My planning works where I think about how far to the next fuel stop with a 3000’ runway. If it’s a short hop I might go 2,650 revs at 28 litre/hour or if I want to have one less stop and the distances work I’ll go 2,500 at 23 litres an hour. I tried various heights to get the best ground speed for the revs. I’m thinking that even at 120 knots, with one less fuel stop I’m really a lot faster than 140 to 145 knots which is the regular cruise on my old girl. It is hard to express how much empty land there is with no signs of humanity through this long journey. Just an occasional road or farm station. For much of it, a forced landing would be a problem and options are carefully noted. The Long’s engine just kept purring along and seemed to have a sweet spot in the sound that I was always going for. It was a careful balance of revs, height, wind and leaning to squeeze a bit more out of the fuel system. All of this while not turning your head. That ruined the whole illusion. This time I had smoked almonds for energy. If you are trying to loose weight, you shouldn’t even be in the same room as a nut and losing weight is the cheapest way I know to get AUW down once the resin has set. For safety, these little nut bombs work a lot better than the dried fruit. I look forward to future rule breaking flights. It was a nice trip to Charleville. The bowser owner came out to help me refuel, I told him I was here last year. Ahhh he didn’t remember me, but he remembered the plane. Thanks a lot! Time to look at maps and options given the remaining daylight hours. I’m thinking Bourke for overnight. I’d need another 20 knots, a good tailwind or an IFR rating to do this trip in a day. Its somewhere between 11 and 12 hours between parking spaces and just that bit far for plane and pilot at the moment. They said Bourke was rough, don’t go out at night and maybe there is no where to stay, then a guy walked past and put a business card in my hand with motel details. Looked fine. There is an Aussie expression relating to the back of Bourke being a long way from anywhere, but hey, I had fifteen maps, two GPS’s a mobile phone a VOR even a compass and I did stop there on the way up. She’ll be right. Landed at Bourke a few hours later, tied her down and called the motel. No go. They suggested another one. No go. They also suggested another one. Bingo! ‘Kidman’s Camp’ and they were going to pick me up. Bourke turns out to be very popular, friendly and almost fully booked. While disappointed to find it was not Nicole Kidman picking me up it was a pretty nice place all the same. Lots to do and nothing like the warnings. You have to see things for yourself sometimes. Mind you, the room was unusual. Big wooden poles with a horse saddle in the middle. What’s with that? If I wanted dinner it was a walk to the local shop or a bus ride to somewhere further. Oh oh. Been there before with no food and the stories about ‘back of Bourke’ returned. Better do the walk, it was only a mile or so. Well it turned out quite a long walk back past the airfield and to the food stop. The place was not that inviting, a soap opera on the TV, a bit run down but it was either here or two biscuits back in the room. Running through my mind was that I didn’t want the fatty food but a little voice in my head replied, “You’ll walk it off”. I watch the proprietor really work hard and try to cook, clear the tables, take the orders and receive the money. When my meal came it was not all that pretty. Yet I was grateful for her efforts and knew she was a trier. I was also grateful for the sharp knife needed to cut what may have been a touch too long in the fryer. I was still grateful for her efforts and could see the situation. When I payed she apologised for the small piece of meat while I thanked her for cooking it. We both knew it wasn’t her best work. Now in almost pitch black I headed back to the ‘camp’. My mobile phone has a torch which was useful, I wasn’t exactly sure where I was staying and didn’t have any numbers. Didn’t have a GPS or a map of course, anyway it was just a mile down the road. I walked and walked, lost in thought. No camp. An hour later I figured it must have disappeared into a parallel dimension and that I might have to walk all the way back to that shop or sleep in the bush. I was in the back of Bourke for sure. So I turned around. Maybe I had the side of the road wrong, I started to doubt my bearings, it was like flying through cloud without instruments. It had to be somewhere. Where was the sign? I walked and walked. Yes the camp was still where I’d walked from hours earlier, on the side of the road next to a sign. I’d gone right past it. Maybe. I think I’d walked off the meal. Departed Bourke the next day after an stroll to the airfield. Skipped the refuelling, figured it would be nice to manage things all the way home. One fuel stop from one end of Australia to the other would be a good effort and a way of honouring Mr Rutan’s intentions for the aircraft. If I was wrong, there was a stop an hour from home. While keeping the fuel log it paid to turn around to check the actual levels on the sight glasses and reset the remaining minutes each time on my sheet. Still a headwind but I found a good height band and managed to negate a lot of it. Finally I crossed into Victoria and saw the strangest thing. A thick smoke haze rising to around 4000’ where it turned into cloud. I’ve seen it before at the State boarder which is the Murray river, it was dividing the air mass and holding an inversion. As I got closer to Mangalore it got worse and worse. VMC? I don’t think so. I called up Melbourne Centre and asked for conditions enroute to my destination. My fear of controllers had eased a little. They got back to me after a while and said it was OK and that Moorabbin was open. It was only thirty minutes flying. As I progressed, visibility got worse, I went down to 2,500’ and had about three runway lengths view around me. My concern was that other traffic might be hard to spot, flying wasn’t a problem. I asked for flight following, figuring that ATC would spot any other transponders close by enroute. “Flight following not available due to workload” was the response. Yeah, that’s why I wanted flight following, its busy up here! Did I detect a hint of apology in the voice? Those guys were under the pump. I made it carefully to the inbound reporting point for Moorabbin. Eyes out of the cockpit and relying on my GPS with timer and heading backup. Even did an enroute all stations between all the transmissions. Got the destination ATIS, made my inbound call. No reply. Asked for a radio check. Zip, nada, nothing. I could hear them, they couldn’t hear me. That new radio again. I’d been flying about four hours by now but still awake and really quite relaxed, must have been all the nuts. Procedure for the GAAP is maintain 500’ above the circuit upwind. I added ‘and circle the tower’ so they could see me. Well that’s a bit of fun except for the number of planes flying around that were hard to see. I heard the controllers referring to the aircraft with the radio out and was told to change frequencies if I could hear them. Once I went to the other runway channel they heard me fives. Seems I could transmit on some frequencies and not others. Got directions and did my thing, taxied back and tied her down. There was still the forty five minutes reserve and nearly another half hour in the tanks, sweet! Straight off to the avionics installers and they kindly supplied a brand new replacement radio on the spot. Soon the radio checked out fives on both frequencies with the tower. I was parked just below them and held the old radio in the air. That’s as near as I got to a victory wave. After all, I don’t want to give canard drivers a bad name. Twenty two hours flight time. The GPS reports 2,818nm travelled at an average speed of 128 knots which works out pretty close. Guess I should taxi faster to get the average up. I used less than a litre of oil for the trip and its still a nice golden colour even though the 25 hourly is now due. After landing the four compressions felt tight again. I’m not going to add up the fuel used because then I’d know what this really cost me… My next trip is in a month or so when I’ll try again for the West of the country. Last time I had to abandon the flight due to weather and take a passenger seat. We all know that’s just not the same. Dave

Part 1 It was fine to be early but arriving late was not an option. I had a speaking engagement in Cairns and any sensible person would have booked a large passenger jet the day before. It was a long way from Melbourne. Then again no one has looked at my twenty year old Long-EZ and called me sensible. People have asked what speed I need to get the nose up after seeing her parked. A Cessna pilot saw me in flight and thought I was inverted... Mostly its ‘Which end is the front?’ There aren’t too many canards in Australia. Having already refuelled, done the tires, washed her down and removed the covers I was early to the plane for day one. Forecast was just right so why wait? It gave me an extra week in Cairns and that’s what flying yourself is all about. You need a lot of time. The aircraft was covered in early morning dew which took a while to clean off. Sitting on an exhaust plug was the biggest dragon fly I’ve ever seen. He just didn’t want to get off either. I took this as a sign for a good trip. Who doesn’t like dragon flies? It seemed the slight cracks in the faring to my wheel pants had really opened up. I guess this was the weight of the full fuel on unmoving tires. I might roll her around a bit next time. Everything else was good except I still had one strobe light out and the air brake doesn’t quite close flush like it used to. Its always something. The first leg was around three and a half hours. I’d organized a new relief arrangement and managed to add a fair bit of ‘apple juice’. Turns out the new bottle doesn’t like being too full and things got a little wet up there. So now with more room in the container, steep turns did the job of filling without spilling on the second try. I landed at the remote town of Bourke. There seemed nothing alive in slight except for a few flies that I saluted in usual Aussie style. Not sure why they were interested in me? A quick refuel, a little drying time in the sun, a few sultanas and time to head off again. Another long leg and I was at Longreach for the planned overnight stop. Time to call up the area frequency to cancel SARWATCH. After not talking much all day and having flown seven hours, you try saying “I’m a Long easy at Longreach”. Lets see if you can still make it sound professional, I certainly couldn’t. You know, that new radio just didn’t seem all that clear anyway. I’d killed my old Narco 810 with a power surge months before, and this new toy was wonderful with a dual watch feature and lots of adjustables. So I’m on best behaviour in circuit due to seeing a parked 747. It turned out there were just two little planes in the tie down area, one with a strange long nose like a jousting pole and a Cessna thing. The Jumbo was part of a Qantas museum display sitting in the car park. Well it was still a tidy circuit, even without an audience. Its fun not to make plans. There just happened to be a motel across the street from the airport. I settled in and was told it was a nice walk to town for a meal. The motel restaurant with the white table cloth thing going on seemed a bit formal. After some time, now in the dark with aching feet I got close to what might have been town. If it was and I found a place with food I’d be too tired to make it back without a struggle. So I gave up. Maybe I was just tired. Finally back in my suite, I got the dialup internet working while missing the room service deadline. So I enjoyed a diet coke and two of those free motel biscuits for dinner. I took my revenge at breakfast on the all you can eat buffet. Last leg to Cairns was four hours. I’d refuelled in case I had to divert given possible low cloud, typical for the area all year. The slight tailwind made the GPS numbers look like I had a fast bird. Yes, I was a bit tired and more sultanas were not enough. It really needed a bit of effort to sit up, wake up and be alert for this final stage. I’d rehearsed the approach over hills on my flight sim, practiced the radio calls, called the tower a week before to check procedures and put “unfamiliar Cairns’ on my submitted flight plan. I was ready for 15 or 33 approach and had watched the video. Yeap, they even make a video for VFR pilots. I’d thought about landing at a nearby CTAF field instead, but that would be wimping out, right? I got lucky, 15 approach. That’s the easy one, 33 goes behind a hill and you loose all contact with ATC for a bit and only get to see the runway when you turn onto base and probably still very high. Ah, easy, got to the low gap in the hills at Stoney Creek reporting point using my VOR and GPS to confirm. Truth be known, it was the other way around. Finally, just at the low ridge in the hills, there was the runway in the distance. It was a bit hard to hear the controller now for some reason. I was told to go to tower frequency, I could hardly hear but I had the right numbers ready anyway. Just over the hills you are already on base and have a lot of height to loose. Carby heat on, power to idle and just talk to the tower. Really having trouble with it breaking up. Caught a clear to do something, figured it might be ‘land’ so returned the words and did the obvious. On the ground rolling and in sight of the tower, the radio was worse but my flight sim sessions had me ready for an right exit to the GA parking. The ‘monsters’ in the tower were very patient. It was almost a shock to be in Cairns, 90% plus humidity and hot, palm trees everywhere, a different world. My head was still 1300nm away. I tied her down and sent an SMS to my ride only to look up and see their binoculars staring me down. Hey, I was more than a week early but the Gods of weather didn’t get me this time. Was it luck, well maybe just planning, having enough time and good people to put me up for the extra days. Quite a luxury.

Got a perfect working canopy lock that I have to rebuild or move. Long story short, old radio died, couldn't be fixed, got a borrowed Icom A200 fitted awaiting the new A210. It arrived, great radio - doesn't fit. It has an extra knob on the left side. It is not an option to move the whole radio rack to the right. There is less than half an inch before other instruments have to be moved. You can see from the first pic that the canopy lock may have been forgotten during the panel design. It has to come off to get to the radio or transponder and the transponder knob is a challenge to use. I'm thinking about removing the spacer block you can see in the second shot and putting the hardware on the other side of the main plate which would then be almost flush against the cockpit wall. The tension spring for the rear seat latch puller could be located a little inboard. I should then have knob clearance on the panel if this all works. Remaining problem is that the large locking knob will have its locking bar the thickness of the removed block too short to engage the latch. As this looks like a commercially made part, does anyone know how the knob pin is attached? Might it be screwed in or embedded somehow during manufacture? I'm wondering how I might make it longer rather than making a whole new part? Its a nice knob. Plan B might be to just bend the main plate, but that seems a bit crude and it may also end up slightly short to engage. I guess I could cut and refit the spacer block at the end of the plate where it all locks but again this is hardly elegant and given the forces involved when it is engaged it may not be a good result. Any suggestion would be very welcome.

Joe, looks really good. Thank-you. Any more pics or tips would be very helpful. Looks like this is my answer, as a non-builder it also leaves a lot of questions. First concern is that the foil stays put, there is enough room to fit it and no danger of it coming adrift and fouling the rudder. RTV? I guess I'd better ask Drew about that when I go begging for some foil - I think he's only building one Cozy.

Thanks Drew, noted ... maybe I shouldn't ask where to put it... but I still need to know. The installer was looking on the OUTSIDE of the airframe for placement Plenty of things like this too:- http://www.aircraftspruce.com/catalog/avpages/antennasystems.php Would this work maybe under the floor? Pretty much hoping for advice on 'where to put it' as well as what to use without cutting anything.

The second VHF antenna is for coms. The aircraft is to be set up for IFR. The installer tells me it's best not too near headsets and preferably vertical. Seems a bit of a challenge.

Any suggestions on where to place a second VHF antenna on a currently flying Long-EZ without cutting anything open? This is for a second radio. Dave

Would you like to post a few more details along with the sort of time commitment you might need from a tester? If you are very organized, maybe I could help. Dave