Shutterspeed: Piper Comanche

People often ask me questions about how I compose air-to-air photos such as these. The Shutterspeed blog is meant to give some insights into the world of air-to-air photography. There is much more that goes into one of these flights than I could touch on here, but hopefully this will give an idea of some of the elements in creating these images.

SEE THE COMANCHE AIR-TO-AIR GALLERY HERE

Most of my time in the air has been in slow taildraggers. I learned to fly in a Citabria and I've been flying the Champ for seven years. Sure, I've spent plenty of time in Cessnas. As most pilots are, I'm familiar with the 172. I've gotten to know the 182 to a lesser extent. I've had stick time in RV's, but by and large, I'm accustomed to going slow. I've taken several multi-state cross-country flights in the Champ and they often aren't much faster than driving, though they're always an adventure. When the opportunity came to train for my commercial license in a Piper Comanche 250, I jumped on it, even though I didn't fully understand what a gem of an airplane I was about to be introduced to. I'd flown Cherokees in the past. The Comanche has the same basic shape as a Cherokee and as both aircraft are Pipers, I assumed the Comanche would handle and fly a bit like its newer brethren. I couldn't have been more wrong. The Cherokee family are generally stable, easy to fly airplanes, but I've never found them to be all that inspiring. The Comanche soars in comparison.

Confident

Charlie is my flight instructor. He taught me while I was pursuing my commercial license and he continues to teach me as I work toward my flight instructor certification. He's been flying this particular Comanche longer than I've been alive and is undeniably a master of the aircraft. Today, Mark would be flying me in the L-5 once again. Mark, Charlie, and I are all close and we've flown one other photo flight with Charlies Cessna.

Charlie has allowed me use of the Comanche from time to time and it is a true freedom machine. Each takeoff is more like a launch than a departure. I've loaded four people in the plane and taken off with near full fuel and its performance doesn't cease to inspire. I never thought I'd love a metal nose-wheel airplane like the Comanche, so when it came time to shoot it air-to-air, I wanted to do it right. I'm always looking for new aspects in my photography. I try to inject variety in each photo flight. I decided that the softer light of evening would compliment the powder-blue Comanche better than the more harsh light of morning. While the air over the foothills can often be rougher than the plains on a summer evening, we'd had a good stretch of clear, calm weather and I wanted to try their offerings of scenic backgrounds late in the day for a change. Shooting in the evenings has several advantages, not the least of which is that there is not a 3:08 wake-up. I drove to the airport after work and Charlie and Mark and I did some casual hangar flying as we waited for the sun to get lower. We pulled the planes out, but Mark and I departed first and headed east to do some quick aerials for a friend. Charlie and his wife Kathie departed in the Comanche and we met on the ground at Longmont. We knew flying in formation with dissimilar aircraft like the swift Comanche and the sedate Stinson would be a challenge, especially for Charlie. We briefed the flight as always and then started engines and taxied out for departure.

Once in the air, I dropped the windows and ran a took a few test shots. Mark guided us over toward the hogback ridges as Charlie maneuvered into position. The Comanche's three-bladed prop makes for a great speed brake when in low pitch, so it was relatively easy for Charlie to match our speed. We flew level along the hogbacks to establish our speeds and positions while still providing some interesting scenery for backdrops. I'd never seen the Comanche in the air and it is an absolute stunner. I've always found its angular lines, clean profile, and slender tapering of the fuselage to be reminiscent of a shark. Up here in the air, it seemed to glide as effortlessly as a mako through the deep. There was plenty of effort involved, however. Mark was positioning Charlie just so and we began a series of inside and outside turns and headed over a reservoir for some water backgrounds. Between the low power settings for the Comanche and the slight turbulence (a little goes a long way) Charlie was working hard. Mark was contending with a familiar area but unfamiliar lighting. The images are a picture of luxury; a couple flying their powerful airplane over the mountains, perhaps to a weekend getaway. In reality, I was hearing the gear horn squawking at times in the background when Charlie would make a radio transmission. Kathie was more concerned with the proximity to the rocks than what would be on the menu at the Chateau.

Flying along the ridges

I'd told Mark in the past not to spend much time over residential areas as they can ruin an otherwise perfect photo. I noticed through my viewfinder that we were over the town of Lyons. I mentioned the fact to him and asked if there was a better prospect for scenery nearby. "Hold on, this is gonna be worth it. Be ready for it." I didn't know what he might be referring to, but I took his word for it, not taking my glance off of my subject. In a few seconds, he began a right turn and we came around the corner of a dramatic sandstone ridge. Charlie was positioned perfectly as Mark put the ridge between the Comanche and the town of Lyons. In the brilliant evening light, the ridge was lit up like the redrock country of eastern Utah and the light blue of the airplane made for a spectacular contrast. We'd flown by the same location on previous morning flights when the entire area was in the shadow. It's amazing how one area can take on such vastly different characteristics with the light coming from the opposite direction.

The "around the corner" shot

As the sun got lower, we gained some altitude and tried several sun-blocking silhouettes, one of the more challenging tasks of a photo flight. We also did some distance shots, placing the Comanche further away from us and putting much more sky in the picture. In a steep bank a few hundred yards out, the profile of the Comanche looked even more aggressive and shark-like.

Mako Shark

When there was not enough light left to work with, we headed home. Charlie broke formation and powered up. As if propelled by a few quick thrusts of its tail, the Comanche sped past us and and vanished to the east as a full moon was rising. Now released from leading the flight, Mark performed several maneuvers that expressed his joy of flying the Stinson. Such acts are always thrilling when facing rearward.

Yes, the Comanche will always be a favorite. It is not the newest, fastest, or most complicated airplane out there. It is a beautiful and competent performer. Its understated manner may fool many into thinking it nothing more than a Cherokee, but the Comanche remains a benchmark among light aircraft. We've had some remarkable and memorable flights together and it was a joy to compose this photo flight.

Kathie and Charlie