Tit for Tat

OK… so this one monitors EGT and CHT. Those stand for Exhaust Gas Temperature and Cylinder Head Temperature. It can also do Fuel Flow. That sounds cool. And of course, Oil Pressure, Oil Temperature, and… TIT?

What on earth is TIT?

I did a quick internet search on TITs, and I’m sure you can guess what happened. Yes. Thousands of pictures of female… well… you know whats.

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Adding “airplane” didn’t help, believe it or not. Now I just had thousands of pictures of female you-know whats being flashed in airplanes of every sort imaginable.

Clearly, a TIT monitor isn’t something we need onboard our plane.

But the Horsepower Meter and Amp Meter sound useful. Yep, if you haven’t guessed, I’m trying to choose an engine monitor for Tessie. Her old engine showed signs of heat damage when one of its cylinders failed, but I’m 100% sure my engine instruments never showed me running hot. Of course, my old instruments only monitored one of the four cylinders as a proxy for the entire engine. As the “new” engine (technically a major overhaul that mixes new and old parts) is on target to cost more than the airplane itself did in the first place, I’m determined to protect my investment with some sort of system that will let me keep an eye on all four cylinders. Hence the engine monitor search.

For background, the Federal Aviation Administration requires certain instruments to be onboard. These are called Primary instruments. In addition, many planes provide instruments above and beyond the required minimums, and these extra goodies are called either secondary or non-primary, depending on whom you are talking to. Of course, originally, all the instruments were round dials with needles. Like everything else in the world, colorful digital screens have taken over.

Some of these digital wonders are certified to function as primaries, and a single box can replace a panel full of dials—at least in most airplanes. But I can’t find a single unit approved for the Ercoupe, and that means I need to keep my old watch-one-cylinder dials while the fancy-pants high-tech wonder that can track everything the engine is doing will only have the status of a secondary system.

Anyway, I finally got it down to three choices, which made it remarkably like an expensive version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. One is too big. One is hard to read. And one, I decide, is juuuuuuust right.

And it’s the one with the mysterious TIT meter.

I emailed my mechanic. It turns out that, as I suspected, the machine doesn’t monitor actual, well, you know whats. It turns out that it measures Turbine Inlet Temperature on turbocharged engines.

And we don’t have TITs like that.

 

Unfaithful

I confess. I did it. I cheated.

On my airplane.

Yes, I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I sat in another airplane’s cockpit. And like so many men before me, I can only offer the lame excuse that the other plane was so young, and pretty, and slim—that I just couldn’t help myself.

Oh, but it gets worse from there. This is more than just a taxiway fling. More than a one-air-show stand. This new girl has been on my mind. A lot. Despite hundreds of hours of loyal and faithful service on the part of the Plane Tales Plane, I find myself sneaking into my library in the middle of the night and drooling over pictures of my new would-be airborne mistress.

She has a long, thin snout. Sleek tapering lines. Low, thin wings. And a lovely empennage. No doubt the air would merely whisper around her. Her gear has smooth, rounded wheel pants. The blades of her three-bladed prop taper to wicked thin, curving tips. She has a beautiful nose, with finely chiseled air intakes; and, of course, a big spinner.

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Her canopy slides back invitingly on silky smooth rails to reveal a spacious cockpit filled with all the latest electronic goodies a pilot could desire.

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Her seats are fine leather. She has legroom, shoulder room, and headroom. And when I sat on those seats, in that cockpit, I didn’t feel merely contented and at home like I do when I climb into our old Ercoupe.

I felt younger.

I felt my inner racing pilot unleashed. I wanted to fire her up, grab her throttle, and go break some more records.

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Like many head-turning women, she’s not originally from around here, of course, which may explain her exotic looks. She’s a South African Light Sport Sling iS. And unlike many modern Light Sport planes, she’s made of metal, not plastic. Every gleaming angle and curve screams quality.

More and more since I met her, I picture myself leaping up on her wing, pulling back her canopy, sliding into her cockpit, firing up her engine, caressing her controls, and taking her off for the flight of her life.

This red and white Sling is red hot. A far cry, I’m afraid, from our Ercoupe Tessie; who’s frankly sorta dumpy by comparison. She’s a little pudgy around the middle, with a stubby, flat face and a small spinner. She has thick wings, dented and scratched, and naked wheels. Her cockpit is small and cramped.

Today I drove down to the Plane Tales airport with fantasies of the new girl dancing in my head. I pulled up outside the hangar, parked, and unlocked the towering doors. With a heave and a groan of metal the great doors slid back to reveal my faithful old airplane waiting for me.

And I felt guilty.

Tessie’s never let me down. She’s carried me far and wide on adventures big and small. And transported me to (limited) glory on her old wings, taking home a Word Speed Record and a Ercoupe Owner’s People’s Choice Award. Every flight has been a blast, and I love flying her.

I immediately felt ashamed of myself for even considering another airplane.

Right up until I got home. And then as the sun set, with Tessie not around, and no one looking, I slipped into the library and opened my Sling album; and found myself drooling over her sexy figure and daydreaming of flying her low and fast.

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