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THE HIGHER WE FLY THE HIGHER WE FLY ?
BY: Christopher Woods

Looking out over the red and gold wing of the Pitts, the Rocky mountains stood massive and unforgiving. The jagged peaks seemed to be the ultimate contrast to the smooth symmetrical lines of her colorful airfoil. Ahead and to my right was my father flying his 185 Skywagon. I would chuckle every once in a while because I could see him steering toward a well-developed cumulus cloud, in search of the strong column of rising air which exists some- where beneath its dark, pancake-like base. No matter what aircraft he flies, his refined competitive soaring aggression is always in practice. At once, and still ahead of me, the Cessna's wing rocked within the turbulence of the unstable mountain air, as he gained 1,500 feet on me in 50 seconds or so. I then elected to shift my course a few degrees to the left, to maintain my altitude, well clear of the invisible thermal. As I expected, the incredible sinking air on the trailing edge of the cloud sucked his airplane down as rapidly as it had risen before, and we were once again in a loose echelon formation.

My father looked over at me with a smile, and a disappointed nod of his head assured me that he was feeling the same as I. The day was meant for sailplanes, not for engines. I pulled back gently on the stick and slowly eased the Pitts into a comfortable barrel roll, to relieve both his disappointment and my aerobatic urge.

We were on our way to Aspen, Colorado, for the filming of "The Higher We Fly" with John Denver.
As we approached Pitkin County Airport, I did a few more rolls and some tight high 'G1' turns before we entered the traffic area At 10,000 feet and 75 degrees, the short wingspan completely changed the 5-2'5 performance. This realization was food for thought, for I was to fly the "barnstorming" type of aerobatics needed for the film.

With the ski runs of Snowmass Mountain rushing by beneath me and the peaks now taking the place of the horizon, we began our descent into the beautiful town of Aspen. As some of you Pitts drivers will agree, landing at 8,000 feet and 75 degrees with no headwind can be a real thrill! The only way to describe it is to imagine yourself strapped to a seat with a wall in front of your face and two high-speed locomotive’s rushing past you on either side. It's fun: but you just have to program yourself to think and react about 99.9 percent faster than normal. And most of all I you must keep believing that the runway is still lined up beneath you --somewhere.


It seemed as though all I was thinking about during that week of shooting was performance, both from myself and the Pitts as well. Everything I had learned in aerobatics was going to have to come together up here, not only for the film but also for my own safety. My father had left on business for the East, and we were to shoot the formation flying sequences the next day. John Denver had not yet arrived, but his beautiful 265-horse power 5teen 5kybolt was gassed and ready. I met with John's stunt pilot, Craig. He is the man who occupies the left seat in Denver's Lear. In the script, our particular scene was to show how the old barnstorming spirit still exists within pilots and their beautiful biplanes today.
After John Denver introduces the colorful machines, we took off and John led me on an exciting low-level tour through the mountains that have inspired his unique songwriting. And let me say that it was an exciting ride indeed! From 13,500 feet, weaving our way down through some of the Rockies' most beautiful terrain.

I flew this same course four times, three with Craig and once with John. There was only one thing beauty could not hide -the landscape was completely unlandable. I was often distracted by the helpless thought of what to do in case of an engine failure. It seemed the only thing to do would be to land uphill on one of the shale-covered slopes -but, knowing my luck, I would probably make it in alive and then end up sliding backwards to my doom. In other words, you could really be up sh-- I mean Snowmass Creek.
Craig and I flew for all of the wide shots, while Denver was to fly only for his close-up. Together, in close formation, the two airplanes were as brilliant against the background as a rainbow against a stormy sky. I would often shift my position from left to right to keep the 5kybolt on the inside of the many turns which brought us within a few hundred feet of the cliffs. The movements coming from Denver's biplane were signals to summon my control movements to keep his aircraft motionless between the shimmering flying wires of the Pitts. The only distraction within the framework was John's silk scarf flickering like lightening against the background of the granite walls. He seemed to be unaware of the performance differences between the two aircraft and cut some corners a bit tight. The silence within my headphones were then interrupted by the alarming sound of the stall warning horn. I'm sure the Skybolt's longer wingspan handled the turns comfortably, but I had to keep a good hand on things to anticipate and further warnings coming from the 5-2's short symmetrical wings. As we dropped down into the wider valleys. I loosened up the formation and was able to enjoy the lush green scenery in detail.

The camera ship signaled for us to return to the airport and, like normal biplane pilots, we began our playful descent toward the valley floor. Of course, we would hide behind the local foothills until the last second. I'm sure the tower is well aware of the rolls and buzz jobs that are performed daily in these hidden spots a few miles into the traffic area. I can recall seeing the beautiful 52 foot wingspan of a fiberglass glider skimming the grassy ski runs and then watching the excitement of the summer hikers and tourists as they waved for more. During the summer, Aspen's skies are filled with color and movement, either from a billowing balloon or a graceful sailplane. On this particular day, it was the happy sound of the two flashy biplanes streaming their nostalgic white scarves.

Just west of Aspen down the highway, the film crew had chosen a fantastic valley to shoot the aerobatic scenes. Landscaped with rolling green hills and plenty of landable fields, it was an ideal spot for safe aerobatics. There was one minor problem; a Catholic monastery stood quietly, undisturbed. near the pastures. SO we had a nice chat with the head priest, explaining our schedule of events. We began by telling him that I was to perform various aerobatic stunts trailing a cloud of oil smoke to brighten up his peaceful little valley. He kind of liked the idea. just as long as no one got hurt and we kept things well clear of the church.

We felt we could adhere to his requests and were off to prepare. The weather was marginal during the scheduled shooting date, so I elected not to fly until the next day. And, you guessed it, that day was Sunday! Can you imagine sitting quietly in that church, listening to the many voices singing religious hymns and having their aaaahhhooomms answered by a strange vaaarrroom? You've got to be pretty ignorant to think our particular angel had laryngitis. Never- the - less, at 8:30 am Sunday morning, the film crew was on their way to the valley, and I was readying myself for the proposed departure time of 9:30. This would give the crew plenty of time to set up for the shots we had planned the day before the scene.

While making a last minute cockpit check and making sure my belts and harnesses were secure, a thought crossed my mind that never had before. I looked around the interior, which was the same as always, but felt a strong closeness to old "N8PB I " and it finally came to me: during aerobatic contests, the 1 ,500 foot minimum limit can really come in handy if there were any problems. And there I was with an opportunity to fly for a major TV special without that 1,500 foot security blanket. Sure, I had practiced at this altitude and was to do only the maneuvers I felt comfortable with, but doing these maneuvers at low altitudes is a lot different from having experienced them many times before. At 23 years of age and 1 year into the sport I have only begun to log experience.

We all know how attractive aerobatics can become, but do we all know how to handle that insatiable drive within ourselves7 I had at that moment come to this recognition point. The Pitts and I were going to have to be as near perfection in our respective abilities as possible. This closeness I was feeling was both an emotion directed toward the' Pitts and a physical fact that I would be literally close to hard ground! I then unstrapped myself, climbed out of the cockpit~ and gave the 5-2 another very detailed preflight.



After settling myself into the cockpit once again, belts secured, I fired her up and took off toward the valley. My hand firmly on the stick, the throttle knob squeezed tight in my palm, the first few drops of sweat dripped out onto my forehead from underneath my loose fitting flying hat. In minutes, I had the valley in sight. As planned, I throttled back and descended to 100 feet above ground. We used the same method of communication as in contest aerobatics; the film crew had a large green panel to signal "ready" while I was to waggle my wings and hit three short bursts of smoke to prepare them for the action. When they had a sufficient amount of material, they were to replace the green panel with a white signal. As I passed over, a dip of my left wing revealed the green panel.

I pushed the throttle full forward and climbed to an entry altitude of 1,500 feet AGL, which was a true altitude of 10,000 feet above sea level. After the three short bursts of smoke and a quick wing waggle, I started the first of a series of low inverted passes -- level, at approximately 50 feet above the fields. I was indicating 150 mph, and was heading straight for the camera crew. The Pitts came alive! Her hot exhaust pipes converted the liquid oil into a billowing trail of white cloud, and the oil's bitter stench followed closely thereafter. As I removed my gloved finger from the smoke system toggle switch, small amounts of debris showered my face as I rolled into the inverted position. The Pitts and I were one.

Our mechanics mated, reacting instantly off each other's movements, feeling each other's heartbeats. Inverted at that altitude, the horizon is just a maze of colors rushing by that you somehow put into perfect mathematical perspective. After passing over the cameras, I half-rolled to the upright position and climbed once again to 1,500 feet AGL. Looking back, I could see the thin trail of smoke settling onto the valley floor.

The film crew shot a variety of these passes from all different directions, taking full advantage of the early morning light that illuminated the red and gold sunburst of the tiny biplane. There was no way to safely put together an aerobatic sequence respecting the reduced performance of the Pitts at these high altitudes, so I did each maneuver separately about five times to assure enough material for the "movie magic" of editing to create a flowing sequence. No matter how good a snap or any other high performance maneuver would look, they were completely negated from my mind due to my in- experience, along with the dangerously combined low altitudes above ground and the thin air. I kept all aerobatics strictly within my abilities, never once deviating from this flight plan. The Pitts was continuously feeding me information at a very rapid rate. If I were to neglect her mechanical verbiage for just one split second, she would sure~ react in a most violent manner.

After thirty minutes of some of the most intense flying I have ever experienced, it was a relief to see the white panel through the thin layer of smoke ejected from my nearly exhausted smoke system. I the pulled up from what was to be the last maneuver and waved my hand joyfully back to the film crew. The filming was over, but the experience would last within me forever.

I felt very fortunate to have learned such a great deal about myself during a time of such aerobatic excitement. What an opportunity to try a snap or even a few turn spins. Just think how good it would look on national TV. These were thoughts easily pushed from my mind. Showing off was not a wise investment into my future. Aerobatics deserve a well-defined respect which in turn demands the utmost in self control.


Watch for THE HIGHER WE FLY, a John Denver / Chirs Woods TV spectacular on ABC, Phoenix channel 3, Sunday, June 8 at 8:00pm.

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