In the zone: Aeroshell Aerobatic Team members share tricks of the trade

If you’ve ever stood among spectators at an airshow as aerobatic airplanes perform seemingly impossible maneuvers overhead, you’ve probably heard someone say: How in the world do they do that?

Maybe you’ve said it yourself. In any case, the question really translates into: "How do they fly so close to each other without crashing?"

A couple of members of the AeroShell Aerobatic Team, the headliners at Air Fiesta this weekend, shed some light on what’s involved.

Solo aerobatic performances can be dazzling to behold. But even more astonishing is team aerobatics: two or more airplanes in complex, coordinated precision routines. The AeroShell team’s Steve Gustafson, Mark Henley, Gene McNeely and Bryan Regan fly four World War II-era AT-6 "Texan" advanced trainers in airshows all over the continental United States, with AeroShell and Honda Generators serving as their main sponsors.

Regan, who flies the "team lead" position explains that each plane is numbered, and pilots in the higher number planes usually are responsible for maintaining the proper distance from their lower numbered neighbors. In the business it’s called "separation and deconfliction."

Naturally, the physical and mental skills required to fly aerobatics are acquired over years of flying. Regan notes that a pilot can achieve a high level of technical proficiency, but that a "maturity" in ability settles in after roughly three years of regular performing — a phenomenon comparable to NASCAR drivers, he says.

One of the skills pilots hone is the ability to make the smallest, most efficient control and throttle inputs possible to maintain the proper position relative to the other team members.

"You make the smallest corrections possible to still keep the formation intact and looking good, and that’s how you make it look easy," Regan says.

Another trick is keeping the same routine over the years, he says, to the point that it becomes second nature. The AeroShell has performed the same routine at airshows for years, Regan says.

He adds that in some ways, team aerobatics is like driving: A seasoned motorist (ideally) is alert to hazards on some level but at the same time relaxed.

"You’re looking straight ahead knowing you’re in between the lines," Regan says. "You don’t really think about it consciously. Your brain is processing it without you really looking at it or focusing on it."

Rather than trying to keep track of everything that’s happening every second during a performance, he says, the pilot learns to reflexively be on alert to things that aren’t normal — a reflex that becomes more ingrained over time.

"You’re looking at it like a still painting and you’re waiting for something to move, and if something moves in that picture your focus is drawn to it in an instant and identifies it and translates it: Is it a threat or a non-threat? Does it need to be dealt with? In general terms it’s called situation awareness."

That heightened level of alertness tends to stay with you — even on the ground. Aerobatics has made Regan very sensitive to the slightest sound or movement, he says, adding, "It’s really bad for the golf game."

Steve Gustafson, who flies the "left wing" position, notes they’re the only aerobatic team using AT-6s in close-formation aerobatics. That’s because it’s a fairly difficult airplane to fly.

"It’s challenging to fly, but it was designed to be that way," he says. "They designed it to be challenging to fly because it makes a good trainer. If you could fly this plane well and particularly fly it very well, then you could go forward into the bigger fighters and not have any problem."

It’s fair to say Gustafson and his team members fly the AT-6 well and particularly very well.

"I guess it’s a crowd pleaser," he says. "It must be because people keep inviting us back."