Why This Curtiss Wright?
N12311
There were literally thousands of airplane designs built during the “Golden Age” of aviation between the wars by companies large and small and many entrepreneurial tinkerers too. Built of wood, fabric, and steel, most of these have disintegrated into the mist of history remembered only in the digital catacombs of the FAA or in blurry photos. But some companies, and their creations, did survive at least for a time. Those relics of the past can tell us stories of adventure, risk, hard work, and even fun if we let them. The Curtiss Wright B-14-R certainly can.
As the 1920s ended so did the roaring post-war economy. With the stock market crash of October 1929, many hopes and dreams of aviators of all kinds perished. While the Travel Air Company did not it was only because of fortuitous timing. Started by aviation icons Walter Beech, Clyde Cessna, and Lloyd Stearman because they had a falling out with their financial backer at Swallow Aircraft Travel Air became, for a time, the leading maker of airplanes in the country. As the decade closed each founder had a different vision for his future and they sold their company to Curtiss Wright Corporation.
Curtiss Wright was then pursuing a vision similar to Pierre Du Pont’s by buying other companies up for consolidation, growth, and leverage. They bought Travel Air and continued, for a time, building airplanes under that brand. One of the first was the replacement for the 4000 series designed by Walter Beech. Curtiss Wright hired designer Fred Landgraff to design a new open cockpit biplane which, when completed, was marketed variously as a Travel Air, Sportsman, Speedwing, or Osprey. This new airplane may have shared a nameplate with Travel Airs of the past but was really the fruit of another tree.
Landgraff was a journeyman who had worked previously for Rearwin and Alexander Eagle Rock and his new airplane more closely resembled the latter than a Travel Air. They were both biplanes and had room for two up front, but there the similarities ended. These planes, given the designation of CW-14 served as corporate aircraft, sales demonstrators, and mostly military aircraft in South America. But one custom model featuring a much larger and more powerful engine, sleek cowling, massive propeller, and covered front cockpit was made for a wealthy young pilot as a race plane. Casey Lambert took possession of NR12311 (now NC 12311) just two years after the stock market crash in October of 1931. While there were two similar B-14-Bs built with less powerful engines and intended for wealthy sport fliers, the tiny market left for the depression besides the military and some corporate aircraft, NR 12311 was the only B-14-R constructed.
With a hangar full of open-cockpit biplanes why would I select this one to add to the Collection? The reasons are several but they begin with the origin story of the airplane.
During the period before and after the Great War, transportation technology boomed at a pace never seen before. Automobiles were finding roles in expanding the country and its economy across deeply rutted muddy roads and the skies were becoming filled with daredevils and businesspeople trying to figure out how to make a fortune with these new contraptions. The public too was fascinated by this and that fascination was fueled by racing. In the 1920s there were air races of all kinds and large prizes for “firsts” in all kinds of things. It was not uncommon for 100,000 people to attend an air race or demonstration and race fliers and their planes became famous overnight. It took guts, a spirit of adventure, and lots of money to play these games. Casey Lambert, from a wealthy family in St. Louis, had all three. His race plane will help tell that story, and when it climbs, nearly vertically, trailing a stream of smoke, it captures today’s imaginations in the same way it did nearly 100 years ago.
As a collector of antique airplanes, opportunities for ownership, restoration, and flying are nearly endless despite so many planes that have perished over time. One cannot have them all, though one or two have tried. One must choose and the choice often becomes availability, specialization, or both. In my case, I find the Curtiss Wright not just beautiful but it helps tell a story about what my sons would call the “mosh bucket” of aviation in the late twenties and early thirties when designers, pilots, and businessmen changed directions and partners like a cowboy at a swing dance. NC 12311 comes from a tree tangled with the DNA of a half dozen other makes and seeds sown by at least a dozen designers and builders. It is not a Travel Air but it is. It is not an Alexander Eagle Rock but it shares its DNA. It is a Curtiss Wright but much different than the other products that the company was building. Its story is intertwined with those of many famous aviators like Lindberg, Lambert, Beech, and even Glen Curtiss who helped start it all.
It is also a personal touchstone and talisman because key to its restoration was a man of the past who still has a monthly article in “Vintage Aviation” years after his passing. Robert Lock didn’t restore this airplane but he did help put its bones back together and gave encouragement and advice to others as they added their expertise to what is an incredibly well-done, museum-quality restoration. I never knew Bob Lock, though I have read much of his writing, but I do know his son Rob who, like his father, is not just an expert restorer but a teacher and mentor to many who are passionate about old airplanes. Rob will be responsible for caring for this relic his father helped to recreate.
Lastly, this airplane is simply beautiful to look at and inspirational to fly. Its sleek lines and stunning paint designed in 1931 create joy in the beholding. Its performance rivaled military aircraft of its time and with a 450 horsepower Pratt & Whitney fire belching radial, it can drive a collection of wood, wire, and wings nearly two hundred miles an hour.
How many more reasons does one need?
