By James Slade, EAA 1435575; EAA Chapter 63, Winnipeg, Manitoba

Building an aircraft is a monumental task. This explains, for the most part, why the majority of us have never done it. There was a time in the last century when kits were nonexistent. You either built from plans, or you could purchase a bundle of wood and plywood and have at it. I was a teenager in the ‘70s, and I would pour over every magazine that talked about homebuilt aircraft and studied information packets that you could get from vendors for free.

Living in Edmonton, I was fortunate to have met Chris Falconar one time, and he was pretty much the go-to guy for plans. At that time, he sold plans for the Piel family and their very successful line of aircraft, as well as the Mignet Flying Flea and his own versions of various Jodels. The information packets always listed a build time. As new plans came to market there was a very noticeable trend as new aircraft listed shorter and shorter build times: 3,000 hours for a Super Emeraude, but 2,500 hours for something else, then 2,200, until we eventually saw something like the ASSO 4 Whisky in the ‘90s that the vendor projected that you, Sawhorse Sam, could build in 1,500 hours…with three-axis control, flaps, and retractable landing gear. It is a beauty of an airplane and we have a licenced set of plans in our EAA Chapter 63 plans repository if anyone cares to have a go, but if you think that you can finish it in anything close to 1,500 hours, it must be because you have already built one or two of these, have all the jigs including the ones for welding up the engine mount and landing gear, have a very clear sequence of construction already in your head, and even then I would say that 1,500 hours goes by very fast.

Composite designs promised faster build time, but unlike wood, you cannot stop for interruptions. Once the layups begin, you are committed to however long it takes you to finish the part. Burt Rutan said a wood wing with truss ribs and a tapered plan-form takes several weeks, but that he could hot-wire a foam core, smooth it, and complete the fiberglass wing in a weekend…forget “hold my calls,” that’s a “clear my schedule” kind of weekend. So we know the kind of commitment it takes, but I would suggest that our attitude to that commitment is the difference between starting and finishing any project.

Progress, like justice, must not only be done, it must be seen to be done. When my wife visits the hangar to see how the Emeraude project is going, I can tell she sees the same thing she saw last time, a week, a month, two months ago. It looks the same to the casual observer. If you are thinking of building your own, you need to be prepared for this kind of underwhelming response to weeks of work. Don’t expect anyone to see everything you did because they won’t. That’s just life. Paint a room and people notice, but break out the putty knife, plaster all the dents and holes, fix the corners, sand it, wait for it to dry, skim coat it all, wait, final sanding unless you noticed more stuff, then paint it, and you can bet money that you’ll be complimented on the colour choice…you did change the colour, didn’t you? Don’t expect anyone who didn’t see the work to notice; you will have done the work and that is what matters.

You will be asked every single day the same question, “When do you think it will be done?” Make up whatever answer you want; there is no answer. You can buy a kit and follow the steps, but there are always setbacks. I have to say that kits today are very complete, right down to the nuts and bolts needed for every part. Plans now come with directions and photos guiding you along. All the modern more-popular kits have been well sorted out, and you can bet there is someone on YouTube with a video to show you how to do pretty much everything. Even so you’ll inevitably have setbacks. You find one part missing or misplaced, you cut something wrong (measure twice, cut three times has become my mantra), and this is just the reality, because airplanes are complicated and we are humans, prone to error. How can we ever know when it will be done?

Before we answer that question, let’s look at some attitudes that may need adjusting.

1. I have to work on it every day. Man, that is so optimistic. It is great to have goals, and we can talk about setting goals in just a bit, but there is a difference between dreams and reality. Every day is a lot of commitment for me, and I am retired with adult children. If you are working full time, or even part time, you still need holidays, weekends, or some kind of break. Plan for that. How about five days out of seven, and if you can work in an extra day, that’s a bonus!
2. I can spend all my holidays and weekends on the airplane. Great idea and that will happen, but family time needs to happen too, and the wife is only going to want to leave you behind so many times. You can ask me how many wives have told me this, go ahead, I don’t mind. Plan for quality vacations where you focus on the beach and spend just a minute a day planning your first week back in the hangar. One minute only.
3. I’ll only have an hour by the time I get to the hangar, so I might as well not go. Ooohh. That’s a hard attitude. It is surprising to me how many people share this one, but I’m an odd duck. Any time is worth it. If I only have one hour, I can sweep the floor and organize the next big work session, update the whiteboard to-do list, organize a list for helpers who pop in and want to help. I’ll take that one hour and say thank you.
4. I’ll go to the hangar and see what I can get done. This comes under goal-setting. Hazy goals produce hazy results, and “see what happens” is pretty hazy. I used to teach an entire semester on how to set goals, so that will be another article, but suffice to say that you need to set a specific goal for every work session. I find the best time to do this is at the end of the last session. This does two things: at the end of one work session you have a very clear idea of the next step, so write it down. Also, having your next goal already established gives your mind the opportunity to anticipate getting to work on tomorrow’s goal. I used to use this on my kids at bedtime, it works. Recap the day and plan for tomorrow.

The great news is we can adjust our attitudes. That is a matter of choice. Building an airplane is not for everyone, but you can learn new skills, you can learn to set realistic goals, and you can choose your attitude. At the beginning of the Emeraude project, I was looking forward to every work session, and today even more so. Realistically I know how much time I can spend before I get overtired and start to make mistakes, and I am thankful for every hour I can spend in the hangar. As for the answer to the eternal question, now I just say, “Tuesday.” There’s a 1/7 chance I’m right.