Beginning with bicycles and radio-controlled cars in grade school, I’d pore through various magazines and create elaborate custom builds on paper with meticulous detail. I would typically conduct these exercises during class because, frankly, mitochondria and the Louisiana Purchase simply couldn’t compete with CODA Magic cranksets and Novak electronic speed controllers.  

Later, after serving several sentences of detention for my inattention in class—during which I continued my builds—I moved on to motorcycles. Before long, I had acquired a BMW R1150GS Adventure and had outfitted it as a formidable overland touring motorcycle. I rode that bike around Lake Superior three times and even from Wisconsin to Maine and back before graduating to the pinnacle of expensive, motorized hobbies: aircraft ownership.

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The progression has been rewarding, and I’ve learned that airplanes are even more satisfying to learn, modify, evaluate, and master than land-based machines.

General aviation airplanes provide an intriguing balance of new technology and historical design. I also appreciate how, like bicycles, most airplanes are simple enough for even minor changes and modifications to be readily apparent to the user. Change a set of control arms on a two-ton BMW packed to the gills with electronic wizardry and tomblike cabin insulation, and you might not even notice the change. But installing some tiny vortex generators or 10 pounds of tail ballast in many airplanes will completely transform the flying experience. 

As I’ve been modifying my Cessna 170 over the past few years, I’ve enjoyed evaluating each upgrade and change individually. Thus far, the McCauley seaplane propeller, Alaskan Bushwheels, and Garmin panel have been the most impressive. But it’s particularly interesting to evaluate and understand the interplay between these changes—how one modification might unexpectedly affect another.

The most striking example of this involves my Garmin GI 275 EIS engine monitor and the aforementioned McCauley seaplane propeller. Both are outstanding upgrades, but now, having flown with both for over a year, I would never want to install the prop without the engine monitor.

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The concern, I’ve come to learn, involves cylinder head temperatures (CHTs). I had an expensive and unfortunate lesson in CHT monitoring on my first lesson in my airplane. The incident resulted in an unexpected top overhaul of my engine and gave me an appreciation for the value of a good engine monitor. 

The flatter-pitch seaplane prop introduces huge capability and performance gains for a relatively small investment but also demands careful monitoring of CHTs during climbs. Because the engine turns so much faster during takeoff and climb, the engine becomes hotter. This is exacerbated by the correspondingly lower speeds in climb and cruise. 

The difference was eye-opening. On warm summer days, if I simply select maximum throttle for takeoff and keep it there up to cruise altitudes as I did with the standard prop, it’s quite easy to exceed 425 degrees CHT. Had I kept the old digital gauge that displayed just one cylinder—

and did so down on the lower section of the panel—it’s questionable how evident this would be.

The GI 275 EIS, on the other hand, displays each cylinder’s information in bright, crisp color, making it clear and easy to understand, even at a quick glance. Just as importantly, it’s mounted up high on the panel, bringing the information front and center. Positioned here, trends are instantly evident—and particularly when colors change from green to yellow or from yellow to red, they don’t go unnoticed.

Armed with such comprehensive, real-time information about the state of each individual cylinder, I’ve adjusted my flying accordingly. No longer do I simply set the throttle and leave it there for the duration of the climb. Instead, I massage my climb rate and throttle setting to keep my CHTs below 400 degrees.

This requires some concerted effort. It feels odd to reduce power at 1,000 feet agl, and it feels even more odd to momentarily level off at 1,500 feet agl to build airspeed and keep the cylinders cool. But any annoyance is quickly erased by the satisfaction of knowing that the engine is happy and properly cared for.

I love my seaplane prop and unwaveringly recommend it to anyone with a Continental C-145 or O-300 engine. It transforms the thrust and takeoff performance of a 145 hp airplane for a tiny fraction of the cost of an upgraded engine. But it has become clear that the prop alone is an incomplete modification. Without a corresponding engine monitor, pitfalls emerge, and an unsuspecting pilot could learn some lessons the hard way.

So there you have it. Evidence that one fun upgrade can easily justify another. And evidence that a grade-schooler’s time spent poring over their favorite hobbyist magazines during class can pay off later in life. 

The post The Interplay of Upgrades appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Today’s Top Pick is a 1967 Cessna 172H Skyhawk.

How many times have you wished you could change just one thing about your airplane, whether it is your own machine or one you are renting for training or travel.

Perhaps it could use more power, more responsive controls or a slightly larger cabin. In the case of the venerable Cessna 172, pilots occasionally wish they could swap its tricycle gear for a taildragger setup.

Well, you can.

The vintage Cessna for sale here might cause observers to look twice. It almost could be a more familiar Cessna 180 of 185, but the swept vertical tail suggests something else. There are quite a few converted Cessna 150s out there, but this aircraft looks larger. It is easy to imagine the conversations as people try to solve this visual riddle.

At first the desire to change a standard 172 into a taildragger might seem counterintuitive. After all, engineers developed the 172 from the tailwheel-equipped 170 in an effort to make landings and takeoffs easier. The result was one of the most forgiving, easy-to-fly aircraft on the market.

Still, a taildragger version promises to bring the 172’s friendly flight characteristics to backcountry enthusiasts, pilots working on their tailwheel technique, or those who simply prefer tailwheel flying.  

This 1967 Cessna 172H has 600 hours on the airframe and on its Continental O-300 engine. The aircraft is equipped with a seaplane propeller. The IFR panel includes the original standard equipment for 172H.

Pilots looking for a reliable, economical alternative to a Cessna 180, 185, or other larger taildraggers should consider this 1967 Cessna 172H Skyhawk tailwheel conversion, which is available for $75,000 on AircraftForSale.

If you’re interested in financing, you can do so with FLYING Finance. Use their airplane loan calculator to calculate your estimated monthly payments. Or, to speak with an aviation finance specialist, visit flyingfinance.com.

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The post This 1967 Cessna 172H Skyhawk Is a Tailwheel-Converted ‘AircraftForSale’ Top Pick appeared first on FLYING Magazine.