Stinson Detroiter

Continuing with the record plane saga, here we have the Stinson SM-1 Detroiter “City of Chicago” that conquered the endurance record after flying 553 hours 41 minutes with in-flight refueling. The four Hunter Bros. manned both, the record and the refueling plane (Big-Ben, another Detroiter).

I guess that by the time they got down, the diameter of the pistons of the venerable Wright J-6 was reduced to that of a pin.

As in other similar record planes, maintenance of the engine was done by the dubious procedure of exiting the plane while flying and stepping on a catwalk that surrounded the plane’s nose. Brave men, those record-seeking people.

Once again, as no kit of the Stinson SM-1 is around, and David* wanted a model for his display, scratchbuilding was the solution. Fair is to say that Khee-Kha Art Products of Alaska sells a beautiful resin J-6, with prop and exhausts included, and that helped quite a bit. Wheels where white metal aftermarket parts form Aeroclub (please, re-open your online store!) and the rest concocted as per accompanying photos.

Of a slightly bigger size than the previously posted Curtiss Robin record plane, they share nevertheless a similar concept shape-wise, so more or less the same building techniques were used, the only variation being the upper and lower fuselage which had a slight curve, and therefore required particular parts. The building sequence therefore won’t need to be explained again, and the images should suffice. In case of doubt, though, you can always take on knitting.

The record-breaker Stinson Detroiter "City of Chicago", stayed aloft for 553 hours 41 minutes with in-flight refueling. The excellent resin engine, exhaust and prop came from Khee-Kha Art Products of Wasilla, Alaska. They produce excellent vac kits of several bush planes, along with accessories and decals for some of them:
http://www.mtaonline.net/~zdk/

*To re-live the thrill of that mile-high engine repair, David put on a batman cloak, climbed to the roof, built a catwalk around the chimney stack and there he prepared omelets, dictated his apocryphal memoirs in loud voice, engaged in solving complex equations using his fingers to count (therefore not using his hands to clutch to the rails) an so forth. It is said that his wife Ann was delighted with all that aeronautic romantic re-enactment and prepared him sandwiches and lemonade that she hoisted to the roof, assuming the role of the refueling crew.