Human Factors: A competitive environment

Aircraft accidents are, in some ways, like people. Some are relatively unknown, while others are in the spotlight from the get-go.

The Wayne STOL Drag accident is one of the latter, generating press and buzz from day one, and even having the dubious honor of being featured in an Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association Air Safety Institute “Early Analysis” video.

The basic facts are known by many, but as a quick review, a STOL Drag competitor was killed in the crash of his Cessna 140 at the Mayday STOL Drag Races, an event name that I’m sure the organizers regretted choosing in hindsight, in Wayne, Nebraska, in late May 2022.

The crash, contrary to what many people have come to believe, didn’t happen during an actual STOL Drag race. Instead, it was during an impromptu add-on activity. Gusty wind conditions had postponed the day’s planned schedule, which included qualification heats for the actual race, so the restless pilots petitioned for an alternate activity — a “simple” STOL face-off.

The Accident

Twenty of the pilots signed on for the unofficial face-off, which was quickly organized into four flights of five airplanes each. Each flight would make three landings.

Flights 1 and 2 completed their heats without incident. The accident happened on the third landing set of Group 3.

The accident plane was tail-end Charlie of the flight, and was number two on final approach to landing when the pilot ended up being both lower and faster than the airplane in front of it, a Zenith.

“Faster” being relative, of course. While closing in on the Zenith, the Cessna was hardly in danger of breaking the sound barrier — this was a short landing competition after all, and winning requires touching down at as slow an airspeed as possible.

In fact, the Cessna was flying so slow that people on the ground took notice.

The STOL Drag rep that was coordinating the pattern operations radioed the pilot, calling him by his first name and saying, “lower your nose, you look slow.” About 30 seconds later, he radioed the pilot a second time, calling him by his first name again, and saying, “get that nose down!”

The pilot did not respond.

The NTSB narrative chronicles what happened next: “The accident airplane’s pitch attitude increased, it rolled to the right, completed a ¾-turn right spin, and impacted terrain in a near vertical attitude.”

The 140 hit with sufficient energy to “bounce” cleanly back into the air, then come back down again a second time, coming to rest in a tail-high attitude. The engine crushed rearward into the cockpit, killing the pilot.

It probably wouldn’t have mattered, but his aircraft was not equipped with shoulder belts.

The Pilot

The deceased pilot was a 44-year-old male who held a private pilot certificate, rated for both single-engine land and sea, with an instrument rating. He had a valid second class medical, and he also held an A&P certificate.

Initially described in post-accident reports as a regular member of the circuit with a lot of experience, the facts reveal a more nuanced reality. In fact, although trained and signed-off for competition, he had only competed in one previous STOL Drag event, although he did serve as a member of the ground crew at STOL Drag organization events at Reno and the Copper State Fly-In.

A review of his logbook showed that he had estimated total time of 780 hours, with 310 in tailwheels, most of those in the accident airplane itself. He’d flown 50 hours in the last 90 days, and of note, 300 of his hours were wracked up in just a bit over two years, showing that, for a GA pilot, he was flying a lot.

He had spent most of his life in the biz, working for 21 years for Cessna in Citation Service centers, ultimately in a management role. At the time of his death he was the sales director for jetAVIVA, a leading resaler of turbine aircraft.

Described by family members as hard-headed and smart, he was survived by five sons — one of whom, a teen, witnessed the crash — one daughter, and a wife of 24 years.

The accident happened during a non-sanctioned activity, at a sanctioned aviation event, taking place under an FAA Certificate of Waiver, at a NOTAM-closed airport. Pity the poor NTSB investigator navigating the sea of finger-pointing and ass-covering while he tried to get at the truth.

The Root Cause of the Crash

The crash itself resulted from a low-level stall/spin. There’s no doubt about that and, in fact, there’s plenty of video of it on the internet.

But the $64 million question is: What caused the pilot to stall?

Several competing theories cropped up between the crash and the final report.

In ASI’s Early Analysis video the late Richard McSpadden — in viewing footage of the accident — theorized that the pilot was starting to engage in an S-turn for spacing and lost control. The obvious first thought of many pilots was that, as the accident pilot was already close to minimum controllable airspeed, the subtraction of the vertical component of lift during the turn caused the stall.

But there was another interesting possibility.

McSpadden’s sharp eye for detail picked up on the direction of the wind, as indicated by flags on the ground in the foreground of the crash video, and he realized that the Cessna — being behind and below the Zenith, and turning downwind — would likely have turned straight into the preceding airplane’s wake.

He figured that the NTSB would look into this, but the board’s investigators made no mention of it.

Instead, their analysis showed the Cessna pitched up before the “maneuver,” and they viewed the “turn” as the start of a stall-initiated roll. To my eye, it looked a bit more like a deliberate turn than the entry into a stall, but either could be true.

The NTSB’s final report listed the defining event as a low-altitude stall/spin, noting that “the strong, gusting wind conditions increased the likelihood of a sudden increase in angle of attack as the pilot approached the runway at a slow speed, already operating near the airplane’s critical angle of attack.”

So they seem to think mechanical turbulence triggered the stall.

As to why the Cessna — which stayed in proper placement relative to the Zenith on the two previous laps — got too close on the final lap, the NTSB final report stated that the “evidence further showed” that the accident pilot turned final too early on the last circuit.

Also of interest is high-res photos that showed that on the third and final approach, the accident pilot hadn’t deployed his flaps, which he did on his previous two landings, so his stall speed would have been higher.

Lastly, the NTSB raised another issue: What they called the “competitive environment.”

Competition’s Dark Side

Even though the face-off wasn’t part of the official competition, the NTSB acknowledged that the pilot was still under pressure as he “was flying an approach in which his touchdown and landing distance would be measured and judged by spectators and fellow pilots.”

The NTSB also pointed out that while under normal operations, the proper response to gusting winds is to increase approach speed, you don’t win a STOL contest that way.

In the words of the final report: “Doing so would conflict with the desire to perform a competitive STOL landing.”

Analysis and Discussion

In the aftermath of the crash, some pilots online questioned the suitability of the Cessna 140 for this type of competition. I disagree with that. There’s more to STOL and STOL Drag than the machine, there is actually a lot of strategy. Not to mention flight skill, or quoting the latest Top Gun movie, “it comes down to the man or woman in the box.”

And that aside, I strongly believe that all airplanes — and pilots — should be allowed the opportunity to compete in aviation sports. Will you, as a novice with the “wrong” airplane, win against specialized machines flown by more experienced pilots? Probably not. But you will learn and grow as an aviator in the attempt — and probably have a lot of fun, too. And isn’t that the point?

But speaking of equipment, I was surprised that the accident airplane wasn’t equipped with shoulder harnesses, especially given that the pilot was an A&P and could have easily added them himself.

Shoulder harnesses are simply a good idea for any flying, much less competition flying. Not that it would likely have mattered in this crash, but if you are going to compete in a sport, you should equip yourself with the appropriate safety equipment.

And in fact, the head of the STOL Drag organization told NTSB investigators that shoulder harnesses would be required going forward.

Meanwhile, other online commenters questioned the sport itself, including one person who wrote, “When winning is defined by taking your aircraft closer and closer to its limits, what you get is a competition similar to seeing who can stand on the tracks in front of an oncoming train the longest before jumping clear.”

I don’t agree with that, particularly in terms of STOL Drag itself, which seems to get more heat than short landing competitions.

Personally, I think Drag is safer than STOL landing competitions. Drag takes place in ground effect, with the accompanying low altitude and comparably less potential energy at play. Yeah, there’s probably a greater risk of a collision, but even with that, I’d rather be in a STOL collision than a collision during a conventional balls-to-the-wall air race.

That said, I do think this case is a great example of a negative transfer of knowledge. Nothing in STOL Drag training prepares a pilot for a STOL landing competition. In fact, the NTSB pointed that out in its final report of the accident, saying that the impromptu STOL operation was “characteristically different” from the STOL Drag competition all the pilots had prepared for.

The Takeaway

There was a lot of competitive pressure at this event and none of it good. The NTSB pointed out how the pilot could have been influenced by thoughts of how his peers would judge his performance and the fact that there was an audience to please. These kinds of pressures are a real thing, are dangerous, and are exacerbated by events of this nature.

But they are strictly solo pressures. Internal pressures. Pressures between your mind and your environment. Something to be aware of, sure, but something for which your antidote is putting safe flying before all else once you are in the cockpit.

I was more troubled by another type of competitive pressure exhibited at the event and that’s negative peer pressure.

When the NTSB questioned the event organizer about adding in the unplanned round of short takeoffs and landings at the end of the day, the race organizer told the lead NTSB investigator that it was his impression that “if he did not help coordinate the heats of aircraft, all of the pilots would have attempted to fly at the same time,” once the airport reopened.

So basically, the racers staged a revolt. They came to play, and by God they were going to play. The weather was bad enough that their “league” had called it a day, but they decided, instead — as a group — to do something they had not even practiced for.

And it wasn’t just one or two “bad apples.” It was 20 of them.

This isn’t a case of a hazardous attitude in one maladapted aviator; this is bad behavior on a large scale.

That’s a troubling takeaway in need of a solution.

The Numbers

Want to read more? Download the NTSB’s final report here or view the items on docket here.