Forget the nostalgia for a moment, will you? We think the J-3 can be a decent airplane for newbs building tailwheel skills. Work those landings on the turf and the pavement and kick around the local area sightseeing without burning a lot of gas.
Now remember the nostalgia. It’s cliche to call an authentic Cub the most recognizable aircraft in U.S. history, but it is. Everyone loves these icons because they’re just fun. But shop carefully—you’re buying an airplane that might be 85-plus years old. Simple systems, sure, but a full-up expert restoration will cost big.
As we enter the winter of 2024, prices for nicely loved J-3s are still strong, and even scruffy ones that need some work can fetch $45,000 or more. Our advice? Unless you’re looking for a project airplane, don’t bottom feed.
Way back when
The prelude to the J-3 was the Taylor Aircraft (led by Gilbert Taylor and William T. Piper) E-2 Cub, powered by a two-cylinder Brownback Tiger Kitten engine. And after designer Walter Jamouneau worked the E-2 over, it became the J-2 Cub in 1936. The general design of the J-2 airframe was pretty much unchanged, save for a refined (rounder) engine cowling. But the Cub really moved forward when William Piper bought Taylor’s share of the company and formed Piper Aircraft Corporation in 1937. That same year, the model J-3 Cub was born.
Gone were the plywood seats in favor of upholstered ones, plus some refinements in the cabin just made piloting the J-3 a more civilized experience. The very early J-3 was powered by a puny 40-HP Continental A-40 engine. Around 1938, Piper offered a 50-HP Continental as an option and a year later a steerable tailwheel and a 12-gallon fuel tank (increased from 9 gallons) became standard. The tail’s vertical fin was integrated into a steel fuselage and the rear window was reshaped in curved half-oval.
At that point, the 50-HP Franklin engine became an option, in addition to an engine of similar horsepower made by Lycoming, whose plant was eventually just down the road in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. More than 1300 J-3s were sold in 1939, as the Civilian Pilot Training Act spurred demand and the Depression eased.
1940 saw the evolution of the J-3 into the classic form in which most models survive today, with a 65-Continental up front or, in fewer cases, the Lycoming or Franklin variants. Most had wood props, although over time, many have been converted to metal props.
When the war ended in 1945 airplane makers transitioned quickly into building airplanes for thousands of returning vets. As a result, the following year an astounding 6320 Cubs were built, with production reaching 50 planes a day at one point—that’s one Cub every 10 minutes. But that racket didn’t last.
The market collapsed in 1947 and production plummeted to 720 Cubs—still respectable by modern standards, but a shock after the previous year’s boom. By the end of its production run, 14,125 J-3s had been built. We figure that less than half remain flying in the U.S.—not bad for an airplane that old.
Engines and systems
Far from hot rods, owners are drawn to J-3s for miserly fuel burn and the laid-back experience of going nowhere fast. Saying that, many Cubs have been refurbished with progressively more powerful engines. There’s little difference between the 65- and 75-HP models, but the progressively bigger engines provide extra climb rate, especially for high-altitude or float operations, where the Cub is a marginal performer. But, having done a fair amount of splashing in a bigger-engine Cub, we think it works reasonably well for lightweight people. The Super Cub, on the other hand, is a world of difference on the water.
But the 65-HP engine on the J-3 is perfectly adequate for most Cub flying and is preferred for ultra-original restorations in which any variation from original configuration is considered a drawback. The Lycoming and Franklin 65s are somewhat rare these days and carry a price penalty of a few thousand dollars. The Lycoming actually puts out something like 50 to 55 HP (with less fuel consumption), while the Franklin suffers from a parts scarcity, we’re told.
How slow is a J-3 Cub? The old saw is that it barely goes fast enough to kill you. Typical cruise speed is about 70 MPH with the 65-HP and 75-HP engines, while those sporting the 85-horse mills can move along at 80 MPH. Again, what’s your hurry?
Cubs aren’t cross-country airplanes. With only 12 gallons aboard, the practical range is about 150 miles, after which you’ll want to get out for a stretch, anyway.
Green grass and high clouds forever
The Cub comes into its own not in long-distance cruising but in operations off airports with grass runways. At light weights, on cool days, the Cub is an excellent short-field machine, particularly with the 85- and 90-HP engines. The fat wing delivers stall speeds somewhere around 40 MPH. Heavy or hot, it will still lift off in a short distance, but climbs over nearby obstacles can be unpleasantly sporty, given the airplane’s high drag and lack of surplus thrust.
“I had a 65-HP engine in my 1942 L-4 (military variant) for several years and switched to the Continental 90-HP engine. The higher horsepower has much better power to get in the air, especially if living out west with high density altitudes or high temperatures,” reader Jon Engle told us. No matter which engine, bring your A-game, and think stick and rudder.
Like any other taildragger, it will groundloop if given the chance, although it’s considered one of the better-handling taildraggers. For pilots used to toe brakes, the Cub’s heel brakes might seem weak and awkward. It has very sluggish ailerons that generate a lot of adverse yaw, which requires a good deal of rudder. Even a mild turn will require a healthy push of the rudder, something most pilots trained on nosegear airplanes have to learn.
The stall, if the controls are coordinated, is relatively docile; however, the horizontal stabilizer has no camber, which helps generate a very rapid roll-off and pitch down into an incipient spin at the stall if the ball is not absolutely centered. Look at some of the low-fly wrecks and you’ll find some fatals because the airplane lost a few hundred feet when there wasn’t that much to spare. The wing has no dihedral, so don’t expect much in the way of roll stability, either.
Speaking of spins, on the other hand the Cub can be a good spin trainer as it will stall and spin easily compared to later training aircraft such as the Cherokee 140. There’s no magic—conventional anti-spin control inputs will recover it easily.
In our estimation, the Cub can be humbling to land, requiring deft footwork to maintain directional control, especially in all but the lightest crosswinds. The Cub’s light wing loading makes it a kite in gusty conditions. With the low landing speed, a 15-knot crosswind can present a major challenge. But unless you get really jiggy with it, the soft bungee cord suspension absorbs bounces well and the big rudder gives excellent directional control.
As for the dwelling, we don’t have to say that a Cub is no frills—refreshingly so in an age of glass displays and button-pushing automation. It’s loud, the seats are utilitarian at best and getting in and out is awkward, especially for those who aren’t flexible. Be careful you don’t put a shoe through the fabric. Once in the back (which is where you solo), legroom is acceptable, with the legs extended forward to the rudder pedals and brakes. The front-seater is balled up in a painfully cramped seating position that’s not comfortable for any length of time, in our experience. Leave your bags at home—there’s no room for them.
The instrument panel has the bare necessities. There’s a tach, an airspeed indicator, oil pressure gauge and altimeter. The fuel gauge consists of a cork float supporting a vertical a wire that is visible through the windshield. For Cubs without electrical systems, bring your portable radio. “I have a wind-driven generator between the landing gear legs with a transceiver, a transponder, altitude encoder and ADS-B In and Out, so I can fly almost anywhere and enjoy experiencing aviation at a pelican’s speed and altitude,” one owner told us.
Shop carefully
Cubs were originally covered with Grade A cotton; it should be avoided unless you are a fanatic for authenticity and willing to pay the price of regular recovering. It might last eight years if the airplane is hangared. Most Cubs are now covered with Dacron fabrics such as Ceconite. Properly applied and protected from ultraviolet radiation, these fabrics will last as long as you’re likely to own the airplane. On a side note, we strongly suggest budgeting for a hangar. These are not the machines to keep out in the weather, thought we know some that are parked in real winter climates where they live on skis.
Check the lower rear longerons and the tail post for rust. Wing struts and strut forks are made of the same rust-prone steel as the fuselage tubes, and these critical parts have a long history of corrosion problems. A series of ADs applies to this critical area requiring inspection every 100 hours until replacement; make sure that all have been complied with.
Look for dry rot and cracks in pre-1946 models with wooden wing spars. Landing gear attachment fittings can be a weak point, and even more so if the Cub has been on floats. Plan on replacing the landing gear bungees every few years when flown regularly.
We would suspect that the vast majority of Cubs have been damaged at some time or another and a fair number of those now flying were built from the wreckage of two or three or more and one data plate. Or from a data plate and parts from Univair. That’s OK, if the work was done correctly. Only a Cub expert will know, however, so we recommend contacting one of the Cub groups for a list of shops that know the airplane. This includes the Piper Cub Club, in Hartford, Wisconsin. Visit www.cubclub.org. There’s also www.j3-cub.com, which has photos, memorabilia and a wealth of Cub knowledge. Search for the very active 51,000-plus-member FaceBook group called Piper J-3 Cub. For parts and support, the two big suppliers of Cub parts are Wisconsin-based Univair (www.univair.com) and also Wag-Aero (www.wagaero.com), both of which stock a complete selection of PMA’d Cub service parts. Some operators stick their Cubs on floats, and you might consider it for learning how to fly off the water. We did and strutted away with a rating and a handful of valuable stick-and-rudder time.
Market
Prices are all over the board (starting high) and sales deals ultimately depend on the level (and quality) of refurbishment, engine time and upgrade and accessories. In the current market that’s showing signs of deflating, Cubs in average condition (regularly flown) seem to move for around $45,000. Show winners and those with new boutique engines can sell for as much as $80,000.
Do a good inspection and get an insurance quote before sealing any deal.
Piper J-3 Cub Accidents: Stall
“It flies like a Cub” is not a compliment. The J-3, a product of 1930’s knowledge of stability and control, has no wing dihedral, thus a lack of roll stability; controls that are not well harmonized; substantial adverse aileron yaw; terrible power loading and wing loading so light that a good, solid sneeze will knock if off course.
But, it’s tremendously fun to fly, especially with the clamshell door open on a summer evening. The problem is that while it is reasonably forgiving of a pilot’s mistakes and thousands of students learned to fly in them, a J-3 is not tolerant of pilots who attempt to get more performance out of one than was built in. Our review of the 100 most recent J-3 Cub accidents revealed a stunningly high rate of VMC loss of control (LOC) accidents, almost all of them stalls—25 percent.
To the stall accidents we add 5 percent that were characterized as due to downdrafts or gusty winds, but in which we are reasonably convinced that the pilot stalled the airplane; 4 percent where pilots hit obstructions on takeoff because they either lost directional control or tried to get a rate of climb that didn’t exist; and 4 percent that involved a botched go-around attempt. Accordingly, our review indicated that 38 percent of Cub accidents involved the pilot losing control of the airplane. The majority of the pure stall accidents were on takeoff, usually involving one or more of the nasty variables of short field, high density altitude, over gross and/or gusty winds.
An old friend used to comment that “a Cub just goes barely fast enough to kill you” as he discussed his impression that many pilots don’t take the demands of the cute little yellow airplane seriously.
We’ll add to the demands of a Cub 15 runway loss of control accidents (RLOC) and note that the percentage is lower than average for a tailwheel airplane. The controls are effective, the pilot just has to know how to use them.
Under the “other” category, two Cubs were simply blown upside down while taxiing because the pilots hadn’t deflected the controls appropriately for the wind direction.
One of the good things about the Cub accidents involving loss of control was that many times the aircraft hit the ground or obstructions at “relatively” low speed—below stall speed. However, in several, the occupants died of head injuries but would have survived with little or no injury had shoulder harnesses been available and worn.
With the fuel tank directly behind the engine, we expected to see post-crash fires. We only found a few, but think that in some of them the occupants could have survived if they hadn’t hit their heads and been incapacitated and unable to get out of the airplane.
Not surprisingly, low flying played a role in some of the stall accidents as well as five in which the airplane just plain hit something, including sticking a wingtip into the ground. Flying low in a Cub is delightful, but you can’t let your guard down.
A Cub pilot was asked to make low passes at an airshow when the scheduled performers didn’t appear. Pyrotechnics would be detonated after he went by—except for one that was early. It blew out the windshield, bent the ribs in the left wing and blew out all of the inspection plates. The pilot landed safely.
