Stjohn's RV-7

9 hours.

Nine. Hours. I had a list, a big one. Much things to do. Because I’m utterly beat, I’m not going to boil it down to bare essentials. Most of the morning I spent chasing the elusive sub-$100 engine hoist. This was not to be found anywhere west of Covina, so I settled on secondary prey: A replacement for my ailing cordless drill. The 14v DeWalt served well for 15 years, but now it drains batteries, the motor’s getting weak, and the replacement batteries only lasted about a year. So today, I picked up the ultimate badass cordless drill, a Makita BDF451. 18v, 3 speeds, and the torque of a 71 Chevelle SS. This hunt took most of the morning. I didn’t get on the stick until about 11am, which sucked, because like I said, I had a list.

David was due to arrive at about 1pm, but before, I got the tank brackets drilled, and a few other things. Honestly, I was doing so much stuff, I forgot exactly what I did and in what order, but these are the things that got done:

Vent lines made
Fuel lines trimmed, ends fitted
Canopy pushrod remade (because of the spacers I had to put on the c-611 blocks)
Rudder cable links made (should be using AN turnbuckles, those links are stupid)
Tank bracket platenuts installed
Triangles marked on wings for belly skin lineup

This process was not without its setbacks. Braided steel hose sucks to work with, and we’ve got the poked fingers to prove it.

I got pictures and video, I’ll post them tomorrow when I’m not too tired to think straight.

2 hours.

Drilled the left wing. Everything was lined up, everything went perfectly, everything was easy as pie. Then I went over to the right wing. I measured and checked level again, then locked in my drill guide. I almost got through when the 12″ drill bit broke off in the guide block. Then the remaining nub snapped again when I tried to extract the guide block and drill bit from the spar. Oops.

There’s that feeling you get, I know everyone’s felt it at one time or another, and if you haven’t, you haven’t lived. It’s that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, when the world does a traveling zoom, where the only thought running through your head is ‘I am so utterly, completely, well and truly f**ked.’ Before the urge to throw breakable things takes over, it’s good to breathe, look at what’s going on, and come up with a plan. The facts: I have a drill bit broken off, pinning 3 layers of aluminum together. I have enough edge distance to completely drill around the broken bit to facilitate extraction.

First step was to drill alongside the broken bit. A relief well, if you will, to see if that would allow me to wiggle the broken bit out the way it came. I tried drilling out a #40 hole to see if that would loosen things up. No joy. Next was to see if I could just go up a couple of drill sizes (#3) and pulverize the stuck bit while drilling through along the same path. I got just past the first layer (aft part of bracket) when the #3 bit started to spin and wouldn’t cut into the broken bit at all. Back away. Back away before you make it worse.

So I pondered, and then had a hunch. What if I can move the wing spar relative to the bracket? I unclamped everything, making sure to double check that my sweep and incidence positions were marked and gave the wing a jiggle. YES! The spar end slid inside the bracket, which meant that the broken bit wasn’t pinning all three layers, just the first two. So what to do now?

Take the damn wing off. With the wing off, I can get at everything and backdrill to the broken bit from the forward side, then pound it out with a drift punch and a hammer. The broken bit will be right below the #40 hole, so with a good guess, I can put another #40 hole below that one and hit the tip of the broken bit, all without compromising my edge distance to the sides of the bracket or the spar. I have to tread very, very carefully now. This has the potential to be a nasty incident pit.

And if I fail completely, I can have the bracket and spar welded up and redrill it. I think. Might have to contact tech support on that one. Best policy is not to mess it up.

This is truly a “come back victorious, or on your shield” moment.

4 hours.

Before we go on, a little lesson in aerodynamics, because it’s important that you understand just how important this step is. When you’re talking about wings and aircraft, you need to be concerned with three angles: Dihedral, sweep, and incidence. On this aircraft, The wings make a very shallow “V” shape about 3.5 degrees up from horizontal. That’s the dihedral. If they had a downward angle, like a Harrier or a Colonial Viper (either mark, pre- or post-war), that would be the Anhedral. Dihedral gives an aircraft horizontal stability, like the hull of a boat, and has various effects on roll rate, maneuverability, etc. At the factory, the wing spars and the center section are drilled together in a jig, so the angle’s dead nuts, and you’d have to try very hard to screw it up. Sweep is the horizontal angle of the wing relative to the aircraft’s intended direction of flight, the long axis of the fuselage. This is important. The RV series has a big Hershey bar for a wing shape, so the sweep should be zero, or as close to it as you can get. If it’s not zero, both wings better be the same. Most light aircraft don’t have swept wings. At the speeds we go, they’re not necessary, wave drag isn’t a big issue for us. Even the A-10 and the Incom T-65 X-Wing have zero sweep. The last angle is incidence. This is the vertical angle of the wing relative to the direction of flight, and this one is probably the most important one of these to get right. It’s especially important to have the wings at the same angle of attack as the horizontal stabilizer.

If you screw up these angles, the plane flies badly, and in extreme cases the aircraft is unsafe to fly. Messed up incidence will result in pitch or roll artifacts, sweep errors will make it yaw funny. Put it this way: unless everything is flat and symmetrical, the plane turns without you asking it, and your autopilot will detach itself from its mount, skitter up the back of your chair and strangle you with its own wiring.

This step is one of the biggest stressors about the whole project, especially on a quickbuild kit, because you have to make sweep and incidence just as dead-on as the factory-built dihedral. So you wind up using a lot of levels, plumb bobs, string, lasers (if you have them), and unless you’re very lucky, you might be mounting and unmounting the wings multiple times to test fit.

What you do is get 4 plumb bobs and hang them off the leading edge of the wings. You then wiggle and jitter the wings until all 4 of them line up on a string, chalk or laser line betwen the two outboard ones. This tells you your wings are straight relative to each other. Then, you use a piece of safety wire, tied to a bolt through the tailwheel mount bolt hole and measure a reference point on the wing. The last rivet on the outboard end of the rear spar, for instance. Mark that on the wire with tape. Then, find out where the tape winds up on the other wing. If it lines up, hooray for you, you have a fuselage that’s perpendicular to your wings. Mark the spot on the rear spar, and drill, baby, drill. Or, you could be like me and not have anything work at all.

See that angled bit being covered up by the square bit? That’s the aft spar, and even after cutting it down per plans, it still didn’t go in far enough to give me zero sweep. I had about half a degree of forward sweep. Not like the X-29 or the Su-37, but enough to irk me. So I had to unmount the wing and file the spar back. Even with my rough rasp, it’s a time consuming process. I was careful not to take off too much metal, because if you do that, it’s gone, daddy, gone. You can’t glue it back on. After two or 3 iterations per side (ask me sometime how much fun this is) I got them to zero sweep, which I then marked on the spar and the bracket (the square bit).

This shot is pulled back a bit, and it doesn’t show much except how little room there is to do anything in there.

Then it was time to do incidence. To do this, it’s necessary to level the fuselage so you can level the wing relative to that. The plans have you using the main longerons as a datum to set level. One small problem. My main longerons aren’t on the same angle, because there’s an ever-so-slight twist in my fuselage. The PDF from Van’s says to average the values. So I leveled the fuse as best I could and got the incidence set on both wings. But I still haven’t drilled anything yet. Tomorrow maybe, after another round of measuring, checking, and realigning.

10 hours.

This Sunday was a huge day. I got up the nerve to put the wings on for alignment and some other ops that necessitate having the wings mounted. The way this works is that the wings are some thin aluminum skins wrapped around a thin aluminum skeleton that’s attached to a thick, beefy wing spar. The end of this wing spar sticks out at the root and slots into the thick, beefy center section of the fuselage. This is held in place by a fistful of close-tolerance bolts. For this fitting, I’m not using the close-tolerance bolts, I’m using drift pins made from 7/16″ hardware store bolts, like so:

You can see here I made 8. I only need four, so if anyone needs some 7/16″ drift pins, holla. With these, the threads get cut off the end, then the end gets rounded. Then the wing spar finds its way into the center section and these go into the attach holes.

Not sure how much you remember about the configuration of my workspace, but one thing of particular interest is that the patio door is too narrow to accept the fuselage of an RV-7. I found this out way back when I took delivery of the QB kit, and just as then, I had to take the patio door off. Sliding glass doors suck. And they’re heavy. And they only get worse with each consecutive removal and reinstallation, so I’m looking at options, but that’s a digression.

I didn’t have the fancy lift-dolly the driver had when he dropped off the kit, so I had to fall back to that ubiquitous artifact of modern suburbia, the furniture dolly. I got the last two from Home Depot yesterday, and extended them with some scraps of furniture-grade plywood we had left over from a project. Fortunately I can still lift the canoe on my own, which I did while Shelley wrangled the dolly under the sawhorse up front. The back end was much easier, since it doesn’t weigh much at all.

sliding door off, fuse on wheels. Don’t get too comfortable, Simba. You’re on the taxiway.

We did it! Shelley’s happy to see this thing out of her craft room, even if only temporarily. But now we have a problem. Those wooden planter boxes to Shelley’s right are in the way of getting the left wing to where it needs to be for fitting.

That just ain’t gonna happen. So the planter boxes need to go. Shelley wanted to take them out anyway, to give us more yard. Well, dirt at the moment, but yard eventually.

So Shelley and I demolished the planter boxes. Chicks with air tools are teh hawt!

Here’s one with the left wing on. Hey. Psst. Did you forget anything? Oh yeah! Drawing 38, cut down the rear wing spar tabs as shown, so there’s enough clearance to set sweep and incidence. Left wing came off shortly after this photo and the appropriate adjustments were made.

Yeah! Now the fun begins. Measure, level, measure again, level again, measure some more, drill.

Take note, chickens. This machine here is the only way either of us will take to the skies, and the only way you’ll be using this one is if you’re in the middle of a sandwich or deep-fried in a bucket.