What's an LSA? part 3 of 3: Six pounds of sugar

A few weeks ago, we got a visitor at my school who wanted to look at our LSA.  He was typical of such guys (see part 2 of 3), and when I walked him out to the ramp, he saw it from 50 feet away, beamed like a kid at Christmas, and said:

"Just like an old Cessna 150!"

Then, once he stuck his head in the door, he said:

"Oh.  Uhm. Whaa..?"

Technically, he's right on both counts.  It is like an old 150 in that it's a high-wing, tricycle-gear airplane with two side-by-side seats, and a single fuel tank in the fuselage.  And the resemblance ends there.


There's a family of single-engine trainers like that- Cessna's 150 and 152, the Piper Tomahawk, the Beech Skipper, the Diamond DA-20, the Grumman Yankee, and probably a few others (just don't get me started on the Tomahawk).   These things were mechanically simple, easy to fly, inexpensive, and strong enough to withstand plenty of students' "bounce-and-slam" landings.


None of those planes qualified as "Light-Sport" aircraft when the rule came into effect.  Not one.

It's not because these are large, powerful machines.  They're not.  They're way too small for lots of people.  But these planes all have a max takeoff weight between 1500 and 1764 pounds.  They were certified as Standard aircraft, so their takeoff weights are based upon how strong their airframes are. They have to withstand at least 3.8 G of stress without damage.


If that much load factor is too much for the design, then they have to either lower the weight limit, or build in more structure. These planes all weigh about the same because they were all built for the same job, and form followed function.


But, with the "Light Sport" airplanes designed since 2005, the Tail wags the Dog.  LSAs are limited by definition to 1320 pounds max takeoff weight, so that rule gets used as the limitation, instead of the real capability or strength of the machine.  That's the pickle that LSA pilots are finding themselves in:

They want a "real airplane" that's comfortable and easy to fly, and it should have a bunch of really cool features, an emergency ballistic parachute, a modern electronic cockpit, and it should be able to carry two people and enough fuel to get somewhere.

BUT:

Two American adults and 22 gallons of fuel weigh about 500 pounds, give or take. That leaves 820 pounds of airplane.  And that ain't a lot.

The Wright brother's first-ever airplane weighed 745 pounds, which was as light as they could get it, and they were only trying to lift one guy and a pint of fuel.  Sure, material engineering has come a long way in a hundred years, but it's not MAGIC.  As Scotty says, "Ya cannae defy the laws of physics!" A well-equipped, comfortable, capable two-place airplane should weigh about 1100 pounds, empty.  That puts its fully loaded weight... right around where the older generation of two-place trainers are.  Oops.


So the designers of new LSAs are left trying to stuff 1650 pounds of airplane into a 1320 pound bag. They're not having an easy time of it.  By the time the design is in the air, they've realized that something's got to give. Here are some options:

1. Skimp on extras, and go stripped-down, bare-bones.
2. Make it flimsy, to save weight.
3. Let the pilots do the math, so it's on them.
4. Cheat.
5. Give Up.
6. All of the above.

If you guessed #6, you're right.  No, seriously, all of these strategies have shown up in the recent wave of LSA designs.  And here's what's happened with each of them:


Option 1- "Skimp on Extras":  Some old designs which did qualify as LSAs are enjoying a rebirth.  Some of these things lack an interior, or any kind of electronics, or even padding on the seats. But those planes are very old-school, and they're not doing well in the marketplace against the candy-colored new designs. The American Pilot's appetite for shiny gadgetry always wins out over elegance, simplicity, and old wisdom.  The result is hundreds of nearly identical designs which all brag about the same features:

• "Advanced materials," especially carbon fiber and composite construction.
• Electronic Flight Instrument Systems and moving-map GPS displays.
• A ballistic parachute system, in case the thing falls apart in midair.

If you'll recall part 1 of 3 in this series, the "Observer Effect" of the LSA rule doesn't just describe an existing class of aircraft, it creates an entirely new niche that LSAs are being "designed into."  So, even though none of these features are in the FAA's "Light Sport" definition, they might as well be.  A Piper Cub doesn't occur to anybody as a "real LSA."  Option 1= FAIL.


Option 2- "Make it flimsy": These are not Standard aircraft, so they don't need to pull 3.8 G of force, and they don't have to go through testing for certification... so you can take a lightweight plastic box and call it an LSA.  New designs are underbuilt, and that's just a fact. Traditionally, getting an aircraft design approved is an expensive, punishing process, but none of these things have gone through that.  The FAA has taken a very hands-off approach to aircraft with E-LSA and S-LSA airworthiness certificates, which is why so many of them have come to market at once. So, if you're wondering how they can get away with selling $120,000 rattletraps made out of fiberglass and spittle, there ya go.  What, you don't believe me?  Try one and see... if you dare!


Other new LSAs are older designs certified at a higher weight in other countries, which have been stripped of structure.  That makes it possible to operate them in the LSA category, but it also makes them floppy. It's the same trick they tried in 1977 with the Piper Tomahawk, which (famously) didn't go well. They refused to do it with the DA-20, which will never be modified for use as an LSA, thank god.  Chopped airframes are another area where the FAA has abdicated its responsibility, so now that ballistic parachute option is looking pretty good.


Option 3- "Let the pilots do the math": Okay, let's say we've gotten the weight of the aircraft down to 900 pounds, and that's as low as we can go, until we can figure out how to make airplanes out of cobwebs and shadow.  That means we've got 420 pounds of useful load.  That's one guy, 24 gallons of fuel, and maybe another 110 pounds.  Unless your flight instructor is Callista Flockheart, you're going to have to take off with a half-empty gas tank, and just two hours of endurance. Urgh. This exact situation came up at a conference I attended two years ago. The LSA producer said "a typical training flight is only about 1.4 to 1.6 hours, anyway, so that's all you'd really need."   Again, I say, Urgh.


It used to be normal to leave some fuel back in the pump with traditional two-place trainers.  But, that was a very different situation.  First of all, we didn't need to leave that much fuel behind- I recall something like four gallons from full, at most.  Second, it wasn't a design issue, because Americans have gotten fatter!  If you were taller than 5'8" and weighed more than 180 pounds in 1960, you were a BIG guy.  And finally, the max takeoff weight of those aircraft was based upon the things' real capabilities and limitations, and you knew that you had to take the weight-and-balance limits seriously!


But with a new LSA design, people are paying lots of good money for a new airplane with a fairly roomy cabin with two seats.  If you're big, you're big.  And if you're going somewhere, you're going to fill up the tank.  And if you need to bring your golf clubs... well, you get the idea.  It's the pilots' responsibility to stay within weight and balance, but these guys know that 1320 pounds is an arbitrary limit. It will get as much respect as a 25mph speed limit on a divided, four-lane highway in a rural area.  At night.  In a convertible.  With the top down.


Option 4- "Cheat": The people who are making these new LSA designs know perfectly well that what I've just described will happen most of the time.  Flying overweight is illegal, but LSA pilots won't feel it's unsafe, and for them, it will be a normal operation.  Yes, the responsibility for keeping weight within limits is on the pilots, not the LSA's designers, but accidents are bad publicity!  So, if I was building an LSA, I'd put the real, operational weight limits WAY in excess of 1320 pounds.  Because I don't want my pilots to die, and cost me money, I'd make sure that my airplanes could handle 550-600 pounds of useful load, in excess of 4 G.  Of course, I'm not making LSAs, but the companies who do are willing to make 'em flimsy, so I don't know WHAT the real limits are.


But whatever they are, it's got to be a secret.  Admitting that the airplane could safely operate at more than 1320 pounds would kill its status as an LSA, which is the whole point of the design.  So the airplane owners are in the dark about the real weight-and-balance, and they're left to figure out for themselves how much they can "safely overload" the airframe.


All the Certified Flight Instructor parts of my brain are screaming "DON'T EVEN SAY THAT!!!"  Of course, you can't "safely overload" ANY kind of airplane- limits are limits!  But I'm sorry to say that for this new generation of LSAs, 1320 pounds is a lie, and everyone knows it.  Saying that max takeoff weight is based upon what the plane can physically handle simply isn't true- that argument is gone.  So, as a CFI, I'm left with  saying you've got to stay within the 1320 pound limit because "rules are rules." That's pretty thin. It's a 25mph speed limit... and no cops.


I wish I was making this up.  But at the 2010 Sun-n-Fun expo in Lakeland, Florida, I spent most of my time in the new LSA area, getting a feel for this part of the industry.  When I asked the vendors about the 1320 pound weight limit, I got this response:

• Shrug and wink,
• Assurance that "of course, the aircraft can easily handle more that that," and
• A promise that "the FAA has said they won't be enforcing that rule."

This happened FOUR TIMES.  If I'd been trying for a scientific study, I'm sure I could have gotten that same response from dozens of other vendors, but to tell the truth, I was so disgusted that I gave up.


Option 4- "Give Up": You may have noticed that I've avoided using any specific names of the new LSAs. That's because (a) I don't want to get sued, and (b) I don't want to badmouth anybody in particular when the whole industry is committing the same crime.  But I specifically commend and applaud Cirrus Design for a very responsible approach to their LSA- the "Cirrus SRS."  They suspended the project indefinitely in April, 2009.  Good Call!


The Cirrus SRS, like most of this generation of LSA, was supposed to be powered by a Rotax 912S engine, use composite construction, EFIS/GPS instrumentation, and their own proprietary CAPS ballistic parachute system.  It was also supposed to have a useful load of "at least" 500 pounds, and still fall exactly at the maximum limitations of the LSA rule.  To do the job, they acquired the rights to a German light airplane called the Fk-14 Polaris, and attempted to whittle down its speed and weight.  But when it came to Option 3, the fuel tank was a measly 18.6 gallons, eliminating an hour of endurance and at least 100 nautical miles of range in favor of more reasonable weight and balance.


I suspect that they pulled the plug for two reasons- First, they realized that they couldn't stuff six pounds of sugar into a five pound bag.  No "Cirrus" could ever be an LSA.  Cirrus has always been Over-The-Top when it came to airplane design- they're very fast, very heavy, very powerful, and packed to the gills with all the bells and whistles they can think of.  Twin turbochargers from Tornado Alley, the latest and greatest Garmin Synthetic Vision EFIS/GPS/FMS, integrated with a Forward-Looking Infrared camera, weeping-wing TKS de-icing system for the outside, air conditioning for the inside, and fold-away cupholders.  Cirrus putting its name on an LSA is like Hummer putting its name on a skateboard.

The second reason is because they realized they had nothing to gain with this product!  Cirrus has always been a premium aircraft company, and their target market has money to burn.  The guys who just have to have the "Best Of The Best" aren't interested in a "cheap" LSA.  Last week, I met a pilot who's just ordered his fifth Cirrus.  His name is Ken Griffey, Jr.  That's who's buying their planes.  These people want the jet!  So why get involved in the furball of the new LSA market?

Epilogue:  I did a flight review a few days ago with a guy who's been a pilot for more than forty years.  He's not small.  I'm not small.  We had 500 pounds of front-seat weight between us.  We went up in a 1979 PA-28 Piper Warrior.  It holds 48 gallons of fuel.  Our center of gravity was too far forward, so we loaded a 47-pound self-inflating life raft into the aft cargo area.  That made us weigh a bit too much, so we left each tank four gallons shy of full.  We flew for 1.7 hours and came back... and tied down in the wrong spot.  The tail rope had an orange rubber sleeve on it, which we use to protect the tail cone of the LSA we've got online, because that plane doesn't have a tail tiedown loop.  No, it's not broken, they just never put one on that plane. I pointed out that the rubber thing was on the rope because it was the LSA spot, and he said... "Ah, that LSA... now that seems like a nice plane..."

I suppose it didn't occur to him that we'd just enjoyed a useful load of 787 pounds in the Warrior, which would have been impossible in any LSA.  And, he hadn't seen firsthand what an airplane that only weighs 700 pounds looks and feels like.  He'd just felt nostalgic about the good ol' Piper Cadet he'd trained in (which isn't an LSA), and he'd read the press, drank the kool-aid, and momentarily stopped worrying about his medical.


Caveat Emptor.  True Light-Sport Airplanes have their place for enthusiasts.  The LSA rule, and the planes it's spawned, try to take it mainstream, but I doubt that their place has changed all that much.  And, I have to worry about the newer planes and older pilots who feel like the usual rules won't apply to them.