The cockpit is cramped, the plane is spinning and your head gyrates with it. The roar of the engine is deafening, but you can still hear your heart pounding. “No theme park ride can duplicate this,” observes one pilot.
For this is aerobatics–where pilots strut their stuff at high speeds, low altitudes and no safety nets.
Air shows have become North America’s No. 2 spectator event, taking a back seat only to baseball. In 1994, air shows attracted 26.3 million fans, nearly double the 14 million attending National Football League games and the 14.3 million at auto races.
Flight has long fascinated people, but its allure may be even greater today. “Unless you live near an Air Force base, you don’t see planes up close,” says Rick Nadeau, executive director of the International Council of Air Shows in Jackson, Mich.
That’s because today in most large commercial airports, individuals are shuttled from remote parking lots to terminals, down long hallways to gates, finally boarding their plane via an enclosed, carpeted ramp. Which all adds up to a pretty cloistered aviation experience.
It’s a different story at air shows, where folks usually get a chance to peek inside the cockpit of planes and kick the tires. Communing with aircraft up close makes the actual performance even more enthralling, according to air-show fans.
Some 450 air shows are expected to be held in North America this year, according to the air-show council, with 80 percent in the U.S. In the Chicago area, the season begins Saturday and Sunday with a show in Elkhart, Ind.
Yet Jim Tomasino, 53, of Joliet, a veteran pilot on the air-show circuit, already kicked off his ’95 season with a show in Missouri. From now until October, nearly every weekend on his calendar is booked with a performance.
Tomasino flies either a Christian Eagle II or Pitts S2B during shows and is known for his low-level, high-energy act, which includes slicing a ribbon 20 feet from the ground–while flying upside down at about 180 miles an hour, putting the plane’s tail a precarious 3 or 4 feet from the ground.
Are aerobatics pilots daredevils? Do they have a death wish? Actually, they’re an ything but foolhardy fliers.
“These are very practiced maneuvers,” says Nadeau. “That’s what aerobatics is all about, control and discipline.” Even though things are spinning around them, pilots must know exactly where they are and put the plane back into regular flight.
Spectators may get butterflies in their stomachs, but pilots say there isn’t time to be nervous. Executing maneuvers requires total concentration.
“To be an aerobatic pilot, you have to very confident,” says Sid Nelson, a 40-year-old pilot from Morris, Ill. Nelson flies a Taylorcraft, a high-wing plane that has been modified for aerobatics. “When you make a decision, there isn’t time to second-guess yourself,” he says.
Plus, routines are practiced so many times “it becomes second nature,” says Dave Dacy, 45, an air-show pilot from Harvard.
But rehearsal is when things can get a little nervy. “I’ve had close calls during practice more times than I’d like to think about,” says Tomasino.
Pilots begin rehearsing at high altitudes, about 5,000 feet. As they work out kinks and gain confidence, they bring routines lower to the ground.
Practice must be paced. Pilots work out in small blocks of time, often 15 minutes, taking long breaks between ascents into the sky. “You can only abuse your body so much,” says Tomasino.
A physical challenge
Indeed, what spectators don’t see is the grueling toll gravity takes on pilots.
As a plane performs various maneuvers, the force of gravity becomes magnified. Postive G-forces push pilots down in their seats while negative G-forces throw them out.
During positive G’s, blood drains from the head and peripheral vision can fade. Pilots often experience “grayouts” when they first start practice aerobatics. “It’s like someone lowering the curtain,” says Dacy.
To cope with positive G’s, pilots tense their neck, abdomen and leg muscles, which keeps blood from pooling in their feet. “You don’t realize how liquid the human body is,” says one pilot, comparing the effect of positive G’s on the body to swinging a water balloon around your head.
But it’s the negative G’s that really get to you, agree pilots.
With negative G’s, blood is forced to the brain. Imagine yourself standing on your head while bearing several times your body weight and you begin to get the idea.
Painful? Well, yes. But concentration on controlling the plane alleviates some of the unpleasant physical sensations, say pilots.
Aerobatics requires total body strength and a well-conditioned body that can take a lot of punishment, say experts. A sweaty sport, it’s not unusual for pilots to lose 5 or 6 pounds during the few minutes they perform.
The lure of the air
Why do they do it? Pilots say aerobatics is the ultimate in mental and physical challenges.
“I’ve always liked fast boats, fast cars . . . but there is nothing that replaces (aerobatics) because it is three-dimensional,” says Nelson. “You’re free up there, you’re not restricted to things straight and level.”
Pilots already have an air or mystery about them because they aren’t confined to earth. “Aerobatic pilots take risk to a higher level. Not only can they fly, but they do gymnastics,” points out Dick Knapinski, a spokesman for the Experimental Aircraft Association in Oshkosh, Wis.
Yet for having their head in the clouds, aerobatic pilots are pretty down-to-earth folks.
“At times I wish I didn’t do what I do–it puts me in a limelight that I’m not comfortable with,” says Tomasino, confiding that it’s easier for him to take off and perform a complicated routine than to climb out of the cockpit and face an announcer’s microphone.
Yet when it comes to helping others get involved in the sport, Tomasino isn’t shy, for he recalls a time when there weren’t many mentors around. Or paid instructors.
In earlier days, most aerobatics instructors were in Texas, Florida and California, explains Dacy, who, like Tomasino, is self-taught, learning through trial and error. “Which I wouldn’t really recommend. I was fortunate enough not to kill myself.” Dacy says. “Also, I probably would have gotten better faster” with formal training.
The inside story
Because it’s hard to tell what maneuvers look like from inside the cockpit, pilots often have their routines videotaped.
Aircraft weight makes a big difference in what routines are done and how they are executed.
“I use more sky,” says Dacy, explaining that his Stearman, a bigger, bulkier craft, is not as nimble as the Pitts flown by Tomasino.
Dacy, who performs a solo routine and a wing-walking act with his Stearman, says the extra weight of the wing-walker can really slow the plane: “Without him, it seems more like a rocketship.”
During the wing-walking act, Dacy also bears more weight emotionally because he’s responsible for another person’s well-being. Circling the Sears Tower before a performance last summer, Dacy glanced out the plane’s window. Being so close to the familiar landmark intensified the sensation of height, he says: “I put myself in John’s (the wing-walker) place, and I didn’t like it.”
Aerobatic pilots can also compete in air competitions, which differ from shows in that pilots perform the same maneuvers and are graded for precision and execution–much like compulsory figures in ice skating. In contrast, air shows focus on entertainment, with each pilot exhibiting a different routine and style.
The compensation may not rival some professional sports, but it isn’t bad. Pilots can make as much as $7,500 for a weekend show for solo acts, says Nadeau, and teams earn more.
No one gets rich
If you consider that a solo routine runs anywhere from 8 to 12 minutes, pilots can earn almost $470 per minute for their participation in a two-day show.
Of course, not everyone makes that much, and responsibilities aren’t restricted to the air.
Performers are expected to mingle with the public, signing autographs and answering questions, which often keeps them at the show site from early morning to dusk.
A lot of money can be made, but it requires a tremendous amount of time.
That includes getting to the show. Some pilots transport their planes by trailer, but most fly them there themselves.
Aerobatics aircraft aren’t the best travel vehicles: They’re noisy and low on luxury, and pilots typically have to land and refuel every couple of hours.
Also, the high pay is offset by high costs.
Eight years ago, Vlado Lenoch, a 42-year-old pilot from LaGrange, spent $350,000 to buy his Mustang P-51. Today it would cost $600,000 or $700,000, Lenoch says.
Operating costs are also stiff: Lenoch estimates his at about $50,000 per year; Dacy just poured $21,000 into his Stearman for the ’95 season.
There’s also insurance to think about: Besides the policies procured by organizers and sponsors, air-show pilots spend from $3,000 to $5,000 annually for insurance.
So most air-show pilots have other jobs. Lenoch is in the hotel business and is a former commercial pilot. Nelson farms and is an airport manager in Morris. Only 20 percent of air-show pilots earn 50 percent or more of their income from shows, says Nadeau.
For aerobatic wannabes, pilots say the only true way to get a feel for the sport is to try it. Sitting in the passenger’s seat is not the real thing.
Says Lenoch: “It’s like riding in a race car instead of getting to drive.”
