I suppose in less aeronautically oriented
segments of society, the name "Apache" conjures
up visions of bronze skinned warriors, their
inner strength and nobility fairly oozing from
every pore. In the airplane game, however, the
name Apache has something less than strength and
nobility attached to it . . . a whole lot less.
Mention "Apache" around pilots and most of them
immediately think of a 3,500 pound sweet potato
that has a couple of little Lycomings snuggled
up next to it with a side-walk-sized wing tying
the mass of bulges together. The Apache is not
the multi-engined darling of the aviation set.
What the Piper PA-23 Apache is, in reality, is
the lowest common denominator in the
many-motored airplane zoo. It's the cheapest,
the easiest, the most obtainable, the ugliest,
the most docile and, according to some, possibly
the least useful. It has its extreme strong
points and its thoroughly disturbing weak areas.
I cannot be counted amongst the lovers of the
Apache. As a matter of fact, I'm not
particularly crazy about multi-engine airplanes
in general, mostly because I don't do a lot of
the kind of flying that I feel demands two
engines; night and real hard core IFR or a
combination of the two. But, even I have to
admit that there have been times I wished I had
that other fan out there to keep me cool.
I will also admit that there have been periods
of short-term insanity during which I fantasized
buying a light twin as a family chugabout.
Periodically, I, too, fall prey to a form of
cross-country mental aberration that has me
daydreaming about launching off for Nantucket,
Martha's Vineyard, Bimini or Cincinnati. It has
been during these apparent mental relapses that
I've done my share of Apache tribal research. I
haven't even considered buying other twins
because I am emotionally incapable of writing a
check on which the first number is higher than
one. Since there aren't a half dozen stock
Apaches in the world that are worth over
$20,000, my search for a twin has always been
Apache oriented.
Quite frankly, I haven't flown an Apache much
since I first got my rating in one (doesn't
everybody?). Further, I have never flown a dead
stock, right-out-of-the-oven PA-23. So during my
last case of twin-twitch I went out to beautiful
Sussex International Aerodrome in New Jersey and
rented one of the privately owned Apaches that
are on the field. This particular one belongs to
a local real estate man, Russ Bierhle, and he
rents it out for $35 an hour dry, a price I
found to be about average for the East Coast. I
wouldn't doubt that the same airplane can be
rented for less money in other areas.
80 Papa is an Apache, period. With the exception
of the third window modification (necessary to
keep the passenger in the tiny fifth seat from
blacking out from claustrophobia) and the homey
looking curtains, very little of consequence has
been changed. It has gone through the obligatory
two or three paint jobs and interiors and now
looks and smells almost brand new, but it is
still a 100% stock Apache, complete with the
original rounded wingtips and 160 hp Lycomings
that were added to the breed in 1957.
It has gotten to the point that a stock Apache
like 80P is almost a rarity because the cost of
the airframes has gotten so low (under $10,000
for a 150 hp dog) that folks are really doing
the modification number on them. And let's face
it: on an Apache, any modification looks good.
The most common mechanical mods are the 170/180
hp Lycoming engines, which only increases cruise
by around 5 mph, but they jack the climb up a
solid 3-400 fpm. It still won’t leap out from
under you, but it does get it on fairly well.
Since Vmc is 80 or 85 mph, depending on the
exact model, it's safest to keep it on the deck
and rotate only when you get the magic number.
Then, get it cleaned up and levelled out until
95 mph shows up. 95 mph is the best single
engine climb speed, so once you've got that, you
should be able to climb away with one engine
caged . . . (theoretically, that is).
When flying Russ's airplane we made a number of
simulated single engine go-arounds and
take-offs, and right then and there I decided I
wanted nothing less than 180hp on each side of
me in an Apache. With three people on board and
full fuel, we could just barely, and I mean
barely, climb away from the field. At 95 mph and
a rate of climb in the area of 50 fpm (the book
says 90 fpm) we were at the mercy of every bit
of low-level turbulence that came along. In the
end we wound up seeking out ridges and
slope-soaring for altitude because even the
slightest downer cost us altitude. If it had
been a hot day or if we had a heavier load and
the emergency had been for real, I would have
been looking for a cornfield to set down in.
By now
most Apaches either have modern radios or a
stack of antiques. There doesn't seem to be an
in between. The wide panel, however, will accept
just about anything.
Again, theoretically, the Apache will climb with
the gear down, but I couldn't prove it that day.
It would barely hold its own. So, if you lose
the left one, which has the only hydraulic pump,
you're pumping away like crazy with the long
lever that pulls out from under the quadrant to
get the gear up while trying to fly a very
marginal airplane. The rudder trim is a ceiling
mounted crank ala early Piper and it can
complicate things because you never know for
sure which direction to trim. Even by looking up
at it, I made several mistakes and wound up
trimming first one way and then the other before
I got it right.
What I guess I'm saying is that unless you're a
real ace with the airplane and/or are very
lightly loaded, losing an engine during the
first critical stages of takeoff means you'd
just better give up the fight and bring the
other throttle back so at least when you hit the
ground you're under control. If you try fighting
the engine and it gets the best of you, you're
going to hit in a steep turn. Once you're
cleaned up and climbing, things aren't quite so
critical and you'll probably be able to nurse it
around for a landing if (a) you're at fairly low
altitudes (below 5,000 ft., the single engine
ceiling), (b) aren't loaded to the gunwales, and
(c) it isn't 100 degrees in the shade. That's a
lot of "IFs."
The 180 hp Apache is a whole different animal.
Although it needs a few mph more for Vmc, it
will climb away from a go-around or losing an
engine on takeoff with little or no sweat. A 150
hp Apache, although I've never flown one, must
be a real toad in that respect (I can expect
letters for that comment).
Not the sleekest
airplane in the air, the Apache still has a
place for those who fly it within its obvious
limitations.
A speed merchant the Apache is not. At a TAS of
155-160 mph you can expect to have homebuilts
doing barrel rolls around you. Even so, it is
darned economical. It's burning about 81/2
gallons per engine, and 17 gallons an hour ain't
bad for a twin. Careful leaning could probably
get it even lower, and it's burning cheap 80
octane, besides.
As long as both engines are running, the Apache
is the absolute image of docility. As a matter
of fact, it can be almost too docile and
forgiving. This is particularly apparent in the
way it floats on landing and in its glide angle.
When that big fat wing gets filled up with lift,
it takes nothing short of a drag chute to bring
it back down. It glides and glides. The first
approach I made was a simulated single engine
job and I was playing it cozy, saving my
altitude till the last. Well, I saved it right
past the airport because I wasn't even close to
getting it down. Oh well, I needed to practice a
single engine go-around anyway. Full flaps, gear
down, and a hard slip only produced about 1500
fpm at 90 mph.
Since all I'd ever flown was the Hoerhner
equipped Apaches, the T-Craft float of 80P
really caught me by surprise. Not only does it
not want to come down, but it doesn't want to
land when it finally does get close to the
runway. If you're carrying even 5 mph too much,
you've just lost a bunch of landing area.
In terms of pure stick and rudder flying, the
Apache could be a 180 Cherokee. There's little
or no difference except the Cherokee sinks
faster. Put a Cherokee driver in an Apache, tell
him to fly it like a Cherokee and he'll come out
looking like an old time pro.
There are a lot of things to beware of when
buying Apaches but it's a hard and fast rule
that the later the Apache, the less things there
are to look for. They changed the props and
landing gear around 1957 and the 160 hp models
have a 3,800 pound gross against 3,500 for the
150s. For either engine it's extremely important
that you get one with the 1/2 inch valves as
that runs the TBO up to 2,000 hours. Check the
rear fuselage bulkhead for corrosion and cracks.
Most Apaches have been used as trainers so the
rudder has spent a lot of time banging against
the stops which can raise hell with the rear
bulkhead and eventually crack rudder hinges.
The only really significant changes came with
the 1960 model when the gear speed was raised
from 125 mph to 150 mph and the flap speed was
brought up to 125 mph. This may not sound like
much, but when you figure that the single engine
rate of climb speed is 95 mph and the older flap
speed is 100 mph, you can really find yourself
busy during single engine operation trying to
keep from exceeding flap speed.
Another problem area, one that 80P certainly
doesn't have, is in avionics. Since Apaches were
the real "in" thing to fly in the late '50s,
every one who owned one loaded it up with the
best radio gear available. The result is that
subsequent owners have tried to keep the old
gear running and replaced it piecemeal rather
than all at one time. Now most Apache's are
hodge-podge avionics museums of the highest
order. Since it's easy to tie up half the price
of a good Apache in radios. it's best to shop
around and spend a couple thousand for one that
already has decent radios.
Although I'm certain there are a lot of Apache
owners who will tell me I'm full of mouldy
enchiladas, I view the 150/160 Apache as an
airplane that has as many dangerous aspects as
good ones. I wouldn't touch a 150 hp with
somebody else's ten-foot pole and the 160s look
to me as if they are useful only within a very
narrow range; lightly loaded, lower density
altitudes and fair proficiency. If you load one
up on a hot day, what you have is an airplane
that has twice as much chance of losing an
engine as a single does. And worse yet, one that
will try to kill you if you do anything other
than treat it like a single-engine airplane and
plant it in a cornfield. However, I'd have to
say that the docility of the basic bird combined
with the power of the 180 hp mod is a nearly
ideal situation.
In a typical recent issue of Trade-A-Plane
(April, 1976) there were 37 Apaches listed with
an average asking price of $13,800, most of them
with medium time 160 hp engines and fair radios.
$13,800 is a pretty low price for that much
airplane. The only thing the prospective buyer
has to do is define his needs and decide whether
or not his needs are such that the basic 160
Apache will let him fill the bill safely. If the
160 hp won't do it with a fair margin of safety,
my advice is to either go for bigger engines or
look at a different airplane. Not everybody has
a taste for 3500 lb. sweet potatoes.
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