10 Airplanes to Fly Before You Die

Understanding that life experience and age play a factor, we’re offering a list from two distinct points of view. Plane & Pilot associate editor Cayla McLeod is the youngster who, you might be surprised, isn’t all about the latest stuff. Meanwhile, Marc Cook, Plane & Pilot editor in chief, has 43 years in the left seat and had the good fortune to work a decade for AOPA and fly a bunch of interesting airplanes. Here’s their list and rationalizations: 

Curtiss JN4 Jenny: It was the airplane that taught Charles Lindbergh, Amelia Earhart, and countless World War One pilots how to fly. Although I didn’t learn how to fly in a Jenny, it was my first biplane flight at 15 years old. Mesmerized by the sounds and smells of the Hispano Suiza E-2 engine producing 200 horsepower, and the accompanying pops and puffs of smoke as she roared to life, I’ll never forget my time in the 99-year-old tube and fabric tailskidder (rather than taildragger). She flew like a big, lumbering Cub of sorts, complete with a wooden rudder bar, tall wooden stick, and instruments that seemed like they were straight out of World War One. A time capsule, indeed. 

Douglas DC-3: Today’s commercial airliners don’t excite me, but the airliner that changed the world certainly does. Although I am a bit biased (a DC-3 was my first logbook entry and it’s the only airplane I’ve ever been able to fall asleep in thanks to the lullaby of purring radials, and maybe a touch of hypoxia), that doesn’t change the fact that the DC-3 revolutionized air travel for a reason. Its 1,500-mile range, 170 mph speeds, and increased passenger capacity made commercial aviation profitable. Although today’s airline pilots might scoff at the DC-3, true aviators could never. These old birds might be on the heavy side and have a touch of grey, but they are fun, forgiving fliers that require a unique combination of skill and appreciation for the past. 

Boeing PT17 Stearman: There’s no mistaking this classic blue and yellow biplane. The startup, characterized by a classic radial wind up, puffs of smoke, and the smell of oil and 100LL, make this flight an experience you’re not soon to forget. Originally used as a trainer in World War II, the Stearman features a tandem, open cockpit with forgiving, yet challenging flight characteristics. Flying blind takes on a literal meaning in the Stearman, as you’re unable to see anything directly in front of you until you’re airborne. After rotation, you’ll soon discover the importance of wearing a snug fitting soft shell helmet and ensuring all your hair is securely tied back (ask me how I know). Luckily, passengers experience a more pleasant ride up front thanks to wind and sun protection from the top wing and engine. If you’re used to flying Cubs, you’ll notice the Stearman has slightly slower to respond power inputs, heavier controls, and a much taller (yet more indestructible) landing gear. Once you’re used to those key differences, flying and landing a Stearman (without much crosswind, wink wink) is just as enjoyable, if not more, than a Cub. 

North American T-6 Texan: Another airplane on the “I can’t see anything” list is the mighty T-6 Texan. Known in today’s times as an airshow performer, the T-6 was the advanced trainer of World War Two. Although I have yet to sit in the pilot’s seat of the T-6, I have had my fair share of time in the back seat of several. Once you’re strapped in and donning your parachute, you’ll pull the canopy shut and wait for the puff, puff, pop and the T-6 roars to life. It is perhaps my favorite startup of any of the aircraft on the list. The deep, throaty sounds accompanied by flames shooting from the exhaust (especially spectacular at dusk) are met with rattles, shakes, and dramatic flair. At takeoff, the T-6 feels and sounds like an untamed beast that has been longing to take to the sky. The controls, although slightly heavy, are still quite maneuverable, making it perfect for chasing those aerobatic thrills. 

North American P-51 Mustang: If a Mustang isn’t on your “Top 10 Aircraft to Fly Before You Die” list, we can’t be friends (sorry, Marc). There’s a reason it was one of the greatest fighters of World War Two. Although P-51’s are thankfully no longer used as long range bomber escorts, they are still incredibly fun, powerful, smooth, and torquey fighters. The takeoff in a Mustang is almost indescribable. Imagine rolling down the runway, feeling like you’re in a rocket ship, only to feel a metaphorical afterburner kick in that catapults you towards the sky. A slingshot of sorts, it makes even the burliest, straightest laced man giggle with laughter and joy. After takeoff, the nerves take a back seat and the Mustang transforms into a graceful flying machine capable of stunning aerobatic routines, flashy flybys, and overall joy-filled flying. 

Lockheed T-33 Shooting Star: Have you ever felt the blood rush down from your toes up to your head? If you haven’t, I highly recommend pulling some Gs in a T-Bird. Known for their role as a tandem jet trainer from 1948 to 1959, the T-33 is the airplane I thought I might have to reach for my first sick-sack in, only to laugh my way through it for an exhilarating, one-time 11-minute ride. Burning on average 300 gallons per hour, it is one of the more expensive airplanes to keep up with on this list, however the smiles and stories outweigh the credit card damage every single time. 

Grumman HU-16 Albatross: Imagine loading up all your friends, a few coolers, some pool floats, and climbing aboard an Albatross. The destination you ask? The lake. That’s the unique kind of fun that an amphibious flying boat has to offer. Although not originally intended to serve as a party boat, the Albatross had much more serious tasks to perform including search and rescue, reconnaissance, and even air travel. Although this is the one airplane on my list that I have not taken control of, (merely ridden in on the way to Oshkosh a few years ago), I can definitely say it is on my list. I will never forget the feeling of touching down on a lake in Minnesota while peering out of the Albatross’ convex nose window.

Beechcraft Baron: If a family hauler, grocery getter, are all things that sound enticing to you, you’ll have to get your hands on a Baron. They’re fast, averaging over 200 miles per hour in cruise, stable, and smooth. If you’re not used to flying heavier airplanes, you may notice that the Baron is heavier on the controls, but that’s nothing a little trim and time at the gym can’t help fix. 

Team Rocket F1: It’s not a P-51 Mustang, but it’s definitely a budget friendly alternative. The Rocket is sleek, sexy, and flies just as fast as it looks. Cruising around 200 knots, the Rocket is a fantastic cross-country machine or around-the-patch sunset flier. Compared to a Van’s RV-8, I found the Rocket to be less touchy on the controls, and heavier, but in a positive, stable kind of way. With plenty of room for even taller passengers, the joy of a Rocket is something you’ll be dying to share. 

CubCrafters EX-2 Carbon Cub: Although potentially controversial, I have saved the best for last—my best anyways. After having flown an EX-2 Carbon Cub for a couple hundred hours, a Carbon Cub is hands-down my favorite airplane to fly. Although the startup isn’t sexy, and at the end of the day it’s just a modernized Super Cub, that’s part of the appeal. Carbon Cubs are easy; probably the easiest airplane I’ve ever had the joy of flying. The tail comes off the ground before you even realize the airplane is ready, climbs like a bat out of you know where, handles like it’s on rails, and can land almost anywhere in a matter of a couple hundred feet. Top that off with modern avionics, a roomy, comfortable cockpit, and its overall charm, Carbon Cubs are built for comfort and adventure. What’s not to love? 

Beech Bonanza: I confess to being biased here. I owned a P-35 Bonanza for a few years and loved almost everything about it. But my recommendation is to find a very early Bonanza for your first V-tail experience. Thirty years ago, I got to fly Serial No. 8 Bonanza, a truly early “straight 35” and came away understanding what made the airplane so good for so long. The lighter 35 handled beautifully and had amazingly good performance on the horsepower—the originals had just 185 hp under the cowling. Good looks, great control harmony, speed and room for four. You can see why everyone admires the Bonanza.

Beech 18: Another for the Beechcraft fanboy, you might say. I don’t have a ton of time in the Beech 18 but what I remember most vividly is the airplane’s sense of balance and poise. It was terrific fun to fly, very honest and predictable—though I admit the weather was good—with a kind of control feedback I absolutely didn’t expect from such a large airplane. No doubt, the Douglas DC-3 is a much more important airplane and a few of the Beech’s peers are arguably sexier, but the 18 was just such a pleasure to be around.

Beech Starship: My last Beech, I swear. Truth is, I’ve never flown one. But the idea of this ahead-of-its-time turboprop is compelling. Word is the performance wasn’t what it needed to be to compete in a marketplace rapidly moving toward lighter, less expensive pure jets nor could it outrun the workhouse reputation of the Beech King Air. Of the 52 built, supposedly only five or six are still flying. So if you cadge a ride in one, it’ll be a rare treat. Worth ditching school or missing a meeting if the opportunity arises.

Boeing 707: Yeah, this is fantasy time. I know it. I never wished for an airline career but was friends with several who came up through the ranks as we entered the true jet age. Asked which was their favorite early jet, the answers I got were unanimous: The B-707. Why? Well, like a lot of the early jets, it’s fast. Fuel cost wasn’t an issue in those days, so with the Pratts at full song, jet-A surging through the pipes like nobody’s business, the 707 would haul. And I’m told it went where you put it. Plus, it’s the very archetype of a jetliner, the mind’s-eye image that would (should) appear if someone said, “Think of a jetliner.” Somehow the mental picture of an Airbus A320 just ain’t the same.

Cessna 195: The best phrase to describe the radial-engine Cessna is “regal.” It’s not terribly fast—though it’s definitely not slow—and its handling is best described as “gentle.” But it has an air about it, a sense of being on the cusp of change. Introduced just after WW-II and produced until 1954, the C-190/195 series was Cessna’s way of showing off in aluminum before it got deadly serious about making the most successful line of trainers and personal aircraft ever devised—with, admittedly, a bit less of the 195’s flair. The cantilever wing was lovely, the small windows had a very automotive feel, and its attitude was, well, jaunty. Few other airplanes express the postwar sense of optimism as well.

Mooney 252: Wait, what’s this oddball doing here? It’s a personal thing. I spent a lot of time in a Mooney 231, the 252’s predecessor. It was terrifically efficient and enjoyable to fly if you thought of it as a transportation device, not a sports car. The 231’s Continental six-cylinder engine and rudimentary turbo system demanded pilot attention and understanding, so it didn’t have a great reputation—though with care, the 231 would abide. The 252, however, fixed those issues with an updated engine, revised systems and a proper turbo system. Few airplanes can do what a 252 does, at altitude and on not very much fuel. Yeah, the later big-engine Mooneys were faster but the 252’s efficiency was hard to beat.

CubCrafters NXCub: Yeah, yeah, yeah: Nosewheels are for wimps, not for Cubs. If you think that, you haven’t flown an NXCub. First of all, it’s deliciously overpowered. A big four-cylinder Lycoming swings a fat-blade Hartzell composite prop, making all sorts of thrust at near-zero airspeed—think of a mild, civilian version of a carrier launch. Plus, the NX can actually do a few things the conventional-gear XCub can’t, mainly because it can attain a high angle of attack before the tailskid drags. It has the wing and the trust to get away with such antics, yet it’s also ridiculously benign. Yeah, you can high-sink-rate yourself to trouble, but it’ll take a lot of it to overtax the massive gear. For no-stress backcountry fun, the NXCub is hard to beat.

Rutan Long-EZ: To understand how influential Burt Rutan was on the homebuilt market, you have to appreciate the genius of his designs. What you can see is a radical departure from GA orthodoxy, with the tail in the front and the engine in the back. Nothing about the Long-EZ, arguably the most successful of the early designs, was normal and that’s why builders loved it. The Long-EZ was also very quick on the horsepower. The canard arrangement meant that it ran out of pitch authority before the main wing could stall, which is not to say it wouldn’t mush into terrain, but it was theoretically unstallable. It was also revolutionary in its use of mold-less fiberglass construction, which means it could be built without jigs or fixtures in your own garage.

Van’s RV-4: Cayla’s right that any pilot who doesn’t include a P-51 on the list might be missing a few AN bolts. But this is my answer: In many ways, the Van’s RV-4 is the downsized, affordable, approachable, insurable answer to what makes the P-51 amazing. This is the sporty aircraft experience distilled. Richard VanGrunsven’s hugely popular early kit borrowed a lot from the single-place RV-3—his first all-original kit—but made room for a second person behind the pilot. VanGrunsven’s motivations were always about balanced handling and light weight. And while the RV-4 had some compromises for that extra human, it was still impressive. Even with “just” 150 hp aboard, the 1,500-pound RV-4 was a strong performer. But it’s more than that. The controls are so low-effort and intuitive that you soon forget that you’re stirring the stick—that brain/airplane meld takes place and it’s as though you’re merely willing the airplane to change direction. A simply equipped, lightweight RV-4 is just about the purest expression of light aircraft flying you’ll find. Less impressive than a P-51, but I can afford the gas for an RV-4.

Van’s RV-10: The other end of the spectrum. Truth is, a well-built RV-10 might be one of the very best airplanes out there. It has more than respectable performance, a roomy cabin, maintains a simplistic approach to systems, and flies beautifully. Control forces are appropriate for a traveling airplane, but the balance and level of feedback is way above the average. Transitioning into one is a delight if you come from similarly sized airplanes—if you’re good with the speed and heft of an RV-10-sized airplane, the actual 10’s butter-smooth handling will amaze and delight you.