Best moments in the jet

[ClearedHot]

We are getting past a rough spot of flaming and since the board is getting back on track, I thought we might keep it moving in the right direction by sharing a few stories about your most memorable moments in your particular aircraft.

In 1990 I took a T-38 to Eglin AFB for the weekend. My girlfriend lived in nearby Shalimar and I thought it would be a great place for a weekend stop. I called before I left Houston and she assured me she would be there waiting for my arrival. I got lucky on the way and found a 200 knot tail wind up at FL 390. As I started the let-down into Fort Walton Beach, I noticed I was very fat on gas. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was easy to find the base out at twelve o’clock. At first I was focused on the fact that my girlfriend was waiting down on the ramp below, but as I looked around the airfield I noticed the ramp and buildings for the 33rd Fighter Wing. In an instant I was transported back to 1972 when I stood on that very same ramp and watched my dad bring his F-4 back from his third tour in Vietnam. There wasn’t anyone else in the pattern and without really noticing it I kept pushing the throttles up until I hit the MIL stop. You only live once I thought as I lifted the throttles and selected full grunt on short initial and watched the airspeed indicator push past 500. I was going so fast I think my break turn took me out over the Gulf of Mexico. I rolled off the perch and all I could think of was watching my Dad’s F-4 belching black smoke all the way through the final turn. I had enough gas for two full AB closed patterns and a full stop. As I put the canopy up and taxied in, I thought about my Dad and all the other good dudes who went to war and came home to very little fan-fair…just the support of their family. It was a great moment and one I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

[Gravedigger]

Wow great story indeed. I'm gonna post this story that I was told by a great guy who flew the F-117. Sorry it's long.

"I had just shown up to the air base for the assignment that I had to swear to take before knowing any details of the job. I walked into a hangar and saw a Col sitting at an empty desk with a phone and some papers. He told me that what I was about to see was a complete secret and very few people in the Air Force even knew about it's existence. A Capt walked me into a hangar that contained an aircraft that looked like it would not possibly fly. He then proclaimed that I would be one of the first pilots to fly this thing. Due to the fact that there was no sort of aircraft to train for the F-117 exactly, I was sent to fly an F-15, which I was told lands similarly to the F-117, with no flaps in. I was then told to go out and do as many touch and go's as I could. Being a Hawg pilot, I wasn't about to circle the field without seeing some of the 15's performance. So I take off and put the throttle full forward. As I fly farther and farther from the airport yanking and banking, I realize that the afterburners are eating my fuel rapidly. So I start back and realize I am already low on fuel. I arrive in the pattern and realize that I have just enough fuel for one full stop. The touch and gos were forgotten, but that F-15 flight was an experience of a lifetime. That plane was a dream to fly."

[ 15. March 2005, 20:47: Message edited by: c17wannabe ]

[Guest Dirt Beater]

Uhhhh is that real, 17wannabe?

[Guest Dirt Beater]

Got a question stemming from CH's post.

For you fighter/T-38 dudes: how much "buffoonery" like tapping the blowers in the pattern and stuff like that are you allowed to get away with...how often do you see it?

BTW, awesome thread...keep it going! Hacker I know you have some cool stories from OIF...

[ 15. March 2005, 21:08: Message edited by: Dirt Beater ]

[Vetter]

I think my best experience in the jet so far was my night solo in T-38s. The status was "unrestricted" with the bases at about 1000' and CBs in the area (it was the last opportunity to night fly before graduation). I was the last solo jet to take off in a string of 6 and I broke out of the weather at 7000'. I leveled off at 8000' and intercepted the radial outbound to the 70 DME arc. Well, off to my right about 10 miles away was a large thunderstorm. Off to my left about 10 miles was another thunderstorm. In from of me way off in the distance was a huge t-storm. Well, needless to say, the sight was amazing. I was totally surrounded by t-storms, I could see the flashing lightning off in the distance everywhere I looked...yet I could see the outlines of the giant thunderheads by moonlight. I was very much over my head, but it was still awesome. About 8 miles ahead of me, I could see my classmate going in and out of burner to burn down gas. Anyway, the ride lasted about 15 minutes on the radial and arc before the CBM SOF recalled all of us back to land because of approaching rain showers. Well, I was the last one to return and got to shoot a night ILS. I broke out at 400 and the viz was right around 1.5 miles. Needless to say, it was a confidence builder and from that night on, even though I didn't get the plane I wanted...I knew I had picked the right profession.

[ 15. March 2005, 21:31: Message edited by: Vetter ]

[Scooter14]

CH, that's a killer story. Nice tribute to all who came before us.

My final area solo in Tweets was mine. It was a Friday, third period, sunny, with a very scattered cumulus deck up to about 8000 feet, about 75 degrees out (the Enid summer was starting to wind down, thank God) winds 350/10, runway 35 in use. I walked out to the jet, got all situated, saw a couple of classmates taxi by, waved, got flipped off by the IP's (jokingly, of course), and went out on my way. The fear of imminent death, "work south IMMEDIATELY" and surface to air tacos was not present, but I was confident in the abilities and procedures I had been going over for the past few months.

Nothing really special happened in the air, but I knew that it was the last time this future heavy driver was going to get the keys to the jet and go out on his own for a very, very long time. The air was smooth, the visibility was awesome, and I had a blast. I came back to the pattern a little early just to fly the overhead a few more times, and landed, walked in right about at release time, went to the club and had some beers with the guys in my class.

I don't think I stopped smiling until Sunday afternoon.

[ 15. March 2005, 21:46: Message edited by: PAB ]

[Champ Kind]

Do any 130 drivers have any best moments they'd like to share? (Linda, HD, Baseops, and any others that I left off...?)

[Gravedigger]

Originally posted by Dirt Beater:

Uhhhh is that real, 17wannabe?

Thats what he told me. I have never heard him lie or exaggerate anything, so I imagine it's real.

[Bergman]

CH - Sweet thread! Spending the last 10 minutes just trying to decide which story to post has been a welcome diversion. You're right...the natives have been restless lately, perhaps the winter is wearing on everyone. Anywho...on to my attempt at a cool flying story or two...

So there I was (every great aviation story MUST start with that saying!)...on my first T-37 area solo. WX at Laughlin was CAVU with light southerly winds. It's third period on a Friday in December and I had just gotten "signed off" for the area during first period (thanks to Capt Jeff Stift!) so with little apprehension and not a care in the world I headed out to the low area.

I report in to the MOA at about 200kts, 10,000', inverted. After doing about a half dozen aileron rolls, I set up a slow invtered decent, paralleling Hwy 90 to the east. Right above the National Weather Service's white "golf ball" radar antenna. I remember just laughing my ass off at the people on the highway, thinking "Mere MORTALS! HA HA HA If they only knew the freedom I have up here!". I roll upright at 8000' or so, 250ish knots and pull into the vertical for a four point roll and finish with a half-assed immelman. Not exactly Sean D. Tucker, but then again...I was only performing an airhow for one person: me!

[Guest pcampbell]

So far mine has been my initial Tweet formation solo, this past Monday. I was assigned 0092, white tails. As all initial form solos do, I led the formation out to the MOA. The status was solos to the pattern/formation. Clouds were everywhere. The stud in the other jet was a fellow Arkansan, and his IP was German. There was a BKN layer at about 12000' MSL over the top of area 13, so I lost about 1500' of the low area. I led the formation through the standard WEPWET (the extended trail as lead consisted of two lazy 8's at a max AOB of ~120, a barrel roll, and two leaves of a cloverleaf) profile before I handed the lead over to my buddy.

Solo on the wing is the coolest thing I think I've done so far in life. We did some wingwork, echelon turns (very shaky), and the pitchout. We rejoined, wingwork, echelon, I called joker, echelon, I broke out, rejoined, and lead told me to go extended trail. At that moment, I realized I had hit bingo, but I wanted extended trail. I didn't say anything, thinking that I might only use 150 pounds or so. Then I heard a heavily German accented voice say, "Madrid, disregard, fence out." Then I called bingo. My buddy ended up busting his ride because he busted bingo trying to get me the ET exercise. The recovery was uneventful except for the idea that I was solo with 3 feet wingtip clearance from another aircraft.

[Scooter14]

Glad to know I'm not the only person out there who was less than stellar in the ol' echelon turn.

[kkboris]

My crew and I took our MC130 on an off-station trainer to North Island for a week. One day, we flew a day low-level through SoCal up to the air refueling track in western AZ. We were a little early, so we decided to fly down Lake Havasu to kill time. Three pilots on board, so I decided to watch from the ramp. Sitting on the open ramp, feet in the breeze, watching us fly down the lake at 240 indicated at 100 feet (practicing the old threat penetration). Every boat we passed either had someone waving at us or falling into the water (depending on whether they saw us coming). If it had been spring break, it could have been even better, but it was still the best 15 minutes of flying I've experienced.

[Toro]

Originally posted by Dirt Beater:

For you fighter/T-38 dudes: how much "buffoonery" like tapping the blowers in the pattern and stuff like that are you allowed to get away with...how often do you see it?

All depends on who's watching.

I took a CT T-38 down to Macdill to visit my mom and hang out for the weekend - she told me she had a friend who wanted to meet me. We had some extra gas when we arrived, so we decided to do one closed pattern. The departure end of the runway at MacDill goes past the Burger King, which is where she said she'd be. I do a low approach, plug the burners and get about 400 knots by the departure and pull an aggressive closed. The dude in the back seat quietly says, "Dude, what's your G-meter say?" It was just an RCH over 7 Gs (but under 7.3) - we both would have had our asses handed to us for over-Ging a jet on cross country.

Anyway, we land, button down the jet and are walking into Base Ops when I see an O-6 waiting for us. Now we're crapping our pants because we think he's going to nail us for hot dogging in the pattern. Turns out that was my mom's friend - he was an Naval O-6 NOAA pilot who actually thought the closed looked pretty cool.

[HercDude]

Sitting on the open ramp, feet in the breeze, watching us fly down the lake at 240 indicated

WTF? Uh, isn't the ops limit on an open ramp 150 KIAS?

My best day has to be solo cross-country at Corpus. There were four of us who passed our instrument check the day prior, so we split up (me & another AF dude, the 2 Navy boys together ). No one had anywhere great to go but my "copilot" realized his UPT class was graduating from Vance that day. So we took off 5 minutes in trail and headed out to lovely Enid on a absolutely gorgeous June morining. The whole day was amazing. 4 guys who didn't have wings, and nothing recognized by the FAA, tooling around mid-America bullsh*tting on 123.45 about how much we rock.

We hung out with his class in some Irish place in "downtown" Enid (too bad we couldn't booze it up) for a few hours before showing off our C-12s to the TOne guys (they were rather unimpressed with the avionics but jealous as hell at us being there alone). We crusied back, took some pictures, forgot to run the decent checklist until we put the gear down, greased the landing, and parked for the night. Just so happens that my neighboors and I hosted a b*tchin kegger on the island that night.

just about as colse to a perfect flying day as I've ever had

[BFM this]

Originally posted by PhlashNU04:

Do any 130 drivers have any best moments they'd like to share?

I wasn't a 130 driver, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn express last night...

Cobra Gold '96

We were the first line of the day for a 3 ship low level--I was dash last. It was about 0830--the bumps and cumulus that would become the afternoon CBs were just starting to form. Our Combat Entry Point was on the beach about 15 miles east of Utapao AB. From the CEP the low level took us north over land with just enough terrain to get some break turns around the hills and a ridge crossing or two.

The flight turned north for the CEP, 500' over the Gulf of Thailand, visual with PtA.

Now, when flying in any formation greater than 1 Herc, you're bound to have at least one engineer who's got an ICS jack wired for music. Sure enough, with a good view of two Hercs low, 240kts, and about to hit the beach, from over interplane comes the guitar lead in to Foghat's Slow Ride.

[ClearedHot]

Originally posted by HercDude:

WTF? Uh, isn't the ops limit on an open ramp 150 KIAS?

[Guest lovelacm]

Hmm... Here's my bit:

On my last trip to the SandBox and our first mission as a complete "hard crew," we had some spontaneous fun.

We headed up to a base in northern Iraq to drop off some "folks and stuff" (standard load) to some Snake-Eatin' types. Landed and pulled into parking just off the runway, but facing it.. so we were ready to head out as soon as the load was off. Called ready for take off and were told to hold position for inbound traffic.. our buddies from our home unit... pilot was a friend of mine who commissioned me! They called final, so we asked for an immediate. We were told to hold position for an aircraft on 17NM final. "Roger, holding position for aircraft on SEVENTEEN MILE final." It took our boys 10 minutes to land... and we were ready. All of us, in some form or another, were either bare-assed or told them they were "number one"... out the forward escape hatch.. pressed ham on the glass.. etc. You should've seen their faces on roll-out as they passed us...

Even if it's combat.. if you aren't havin' fun, it's just not worth it!

Any other good "pressed ham" stories out there?

Cheers!

Linda

P.S. - For those who are counting.. 3 events, 3 GTs, an EPE, and a check... that's IT.

[LJDRVR]

O.K, here's a civilian story:

1999, Dispatch calls me up around 9PM and says,

"Hey, get in here as fast as you can, we got an ASAP up to Dallas Love, pick up four PAX, take em' to Vegas for a couple of hours of gambling, then back to DAL."

We arrive on the ramp at Love in our Lear 35 to find our lead PAX (Bob) his buddy, and two strippers. They've all been drinking.

Out to Vegas we go. Somewhere over New Mexico, Bob blurts out:

"I'll give you guys a thousand bucks to do a roll."

We decline, instead taking turns watching the "show" going on in back. One of these young ladies, (fully clothed) comes to the cockpit to chat. (You C-21 guys can picture her kneeling in the doorway.) We give her the .50 cent tour, after which she leaves. A few seconds later she returns, smiling

"Bob says to show you guys my tits."

After which she pulls her sweater up, spilling out her glands.

At this point, the autopilot is engaged, but neither of us are paying any attention to the jet.

SWEEET!!!!

So, what's even better than a naked stripper in your cockpit? The $1500 a piece tip we got from Bob.

Best trip ever.

[ 16. March 2005, 10:38: Message edited by: LJDRVR ]

[LJDRVR]

Another really great day was the first Thursday after September 11th when civilian traffic was allowed to fly again.

Our day started early, taking a liver in a cooler from Hobby to San Antonio in a Lear 31 with my friend Richard. I've got the TCAS out to the 40 NM ring with no other traffic. ATC is just us and the contoller. I got to carry on a nice, long conversation with the Houston Center guy, who was as happy to be talking to us, as we were to return to the airspace.

We drop of our organ and repositioned to Brownsville, where we picked up some stranded business travelers. Launched for Phoenix where we dropped four of them off, leaving two for a quick flight to Los Angeles.

Not all the airlines were flying and those that were had reduced schedules. All day long the frequency was filled with the most friendly, professional pilots and controllers I had ever heard. I almost get chocked up just thinking about it.

Turning final for 25R at LAX, it's one of those rare, perfectly clear days. I can see the entire basin, coastline, even Catalina. As we taxi in, there's an American 737-800 with a HUGE American Flag being held out of the Copilot's window.

On the phone at the FBO, dispatch asks if we would mind heading down to San Diego to pick up one of our pilots (Kevin) who was stranded. An hour and a half later we've got him on board, and it's Richards's leg back to Houston. Reaching 410, I climb out of my seat, and relax in the back, getting caught up on my paperwork, and reading the comics. Kevin climbs into my seat, and since Kevin and Richard are typed, I let the two copilots take me back to Houston, while I reflect on how very lucky I am to live in this country and get paid money to fly airplanes.

[ 16. March 2005, 11:14: Message edited by: LJDRVR ]

[Gravedigger]

Alright if civilian stuff is allowed.

I was 18 and freshly licensed. I was asked by the owner of my flight school if I wanted to pick up a new C-172SP they had oredered from Cessna. I say yes of course, and work out getting out to Independence, Kansas. I convince my friend (who happens to be my instructor) to ride along so that we can file. We take two planes out to Kansas, I rode in a Trinidad, and some others went in a 310. Anyways, we arrive, tour the factory, and get our free meal. We get to the line and are told that we would be the first to ever fly this plane (they only fly 1/3). It's 1000 overcast at KIDP when we take off, and the rush of being the first person to ever fly this thing was immense. We level off right at the top of the clouds, and we are getting that awesome wave effect that clouds make sometimes. As we get over the Mississippi, the sun has just set, and I can see the lighthouses shining down below. After 3.1 hours, I decided to stop in Mid-Delta(Greensville?) Miss. After some McDonalds, we jump back in the plane and head for ATL. Over Birmingham, I have an epiphone, I realized that there was no job in the world that could bring me the satisfaction that flying brings me. We land at Cobb County(McCollum) and I see a C-17 fly right over us in the pattern for Dobbins, and I knew exactly what i was gonna do for the rest of my life. 6.1 of the best hours in my life!

[zrooster99]

Disclaimer: The following is a sappy GA story…looking forward to many great stories in AF aircraft starting in about 3 months

Mine (so far) would have to be my first real XC after earning my PPL. My vision was 20/200 when I was commissioned (’99), so I was forced to go the GA route if I wanted to fly, until I could find a way around my near sightedness. As soon as I got to my first duty station I worked my balls off, and 4 months, 7 IPs and one maxed credit card later I finally had my PPL.

From that point on, of course, I’m looking for any opportunity to “show my skills” and take advantage of my new found federally granted privileges. So, up in Fort Worth on Christmas eve that year I hear my sister say she needs to get to College Station because she’s due to work a shift at her job down there (large animal vet clinic…hand up a cows butt type thing). Golden opportunity, so I volunteer to fly her there. So we head on over to Fort Worth Spinks, check out the world’s oldest C-150 (a 1973 model that looks more like it should be a 1963 model) and we’re on our way.

It’s a pretty easy trip, plenty of fuel for both legs and nice big interstates for land marks...no challenge even for my lowly 65 hours. It’s a beautiful Texas day…a little haze, but pretty good visibility, and hardly another plane in the sky. We arrive at CLL uneventfully, and I manage to grease it in pretty good (which was key since this was the first time anyone from my family had ridden with me) and am feeling pretty good about things by now. I drop my sister off at work in the courtesy car and hang around in the pilot’s lounge drinking coffee and just generally enjoying the whole deal.

So, coffee and pit stop are out of the way and I’m off again for FWS. Now this is the part that really makes it all worth while. I’m getting flight following from Huston and subsequently Fort Worth center, and there’s hardly a peep on the radio. It’s slowly getting dark, I’m all over it, got it trimmed out and the air is smooth as silk. It gets dark, and I fell like I’m the only one in the world just suspended in space. The radio is dead silent, it’s a clear dark night. It’s just me, all the lights on the ground and the smooth hum of my engine.

Slowly, however, get-there-itis combines with my lack of experience and I start to get a little antsy about finding my field and getting on the ground. Just then…wait…yep there’s the beacon right by the highway just like it’s supposed to be. I begin my desent, switch to CTAF and make my approach…yep got it all locked in, power back, white arc…2 notches of flaps…short final…wait a minute…nope…something doesn’t look right...

Um…yeah…wrong airport…that’s Hillsboro, about 35-40 miles south of where I’m headed…call missed approach (not that anyone’s listening), full power…flaps up, climb back out and Switch back to center.

At this point a knowing voice on center calls me and asks where I’m headed. I tell him sheepishly I’m headed for Spinks and he says “well, you’re almost there, just maintain heading you’re about 30 miles out” (or something like that). That was one of the best feelings…for a minute there I felt like I was all alone in the world when ATC reached out with a little reassurance and nudged me in the right direction. I probably could have found it on my own, but it was nice to know someone was out there watching and trying to help.

So, found FWS made a nice straight in to full stop taxied in and shut down. Again, the utter silence…not another soul in the world, just the ticking of the cooling exhaust and me. I just felt like I had the whole world to myself that night.

It’s been a long fight to get to UPT, but with moments like that I had no doubt that this was what I wanted to do with my life.

[ 16. March 2005, 16:53: Message edited by: zrooster99 ]

[Guest Animal]

I'll be damned if my story is gonna be about a lame ass Tweet!!

We take off out of "foreign airfield XXXX" with six GBU-12s and six Mk-82s....all live. We go straight to the range (~20 NM off the dep end) without talking to anyone. We do 10 degree whip pops to a lat X6 for the LGBs and 20 degree DBs X6 for the dumb bombs. All the while only talking to the USAF FAC at the range. Clean..and I mean no tanks either...we make a couple passes past the range tower for AF TV News (strong).

We rendezvous with the 135 that is about 20 miles away waiting for us. Still talking only to the 135 guys, we rejoin to find the 135 is full of terminally ill children that have as many noses pressed up against every piece of glass in that jet as is humanly possible. Brings a tear to your eye and makes you appreciate what we get to do every day. Those Square D folks were a real class act that day. After the top off (X 2) we depart the tanker track via an acceleration exercise (strong).

We then go about defeating the entirety of country X's fighter force using heat and gun only...they launch them two at a time, they bingo out, they launch two more, etc. After the maintainers on the ground have had enough (theirs not ours!) we realize we still have lots of gas....hhmmmm.

Better go check out what 50K' looks like! We set ourselves up for 100 mile set ups against each other at 50K'. We're right at the M1.5 speed restriction the whole time. We decide to take it to the merge each time and set up at opposite ends to expedite the next set up....giggling the whole way. I don't think GCI understood what we were doing so I showed 'em pics later.

Finally time to go home. Still supersonic in the descent we flash the BD check symbol....can you do a supersonic BD check? I'm here to tell you I've seen it happen. We slow below the mach 10 miles from the field...I suppose we ought to call tower and report tac initial, huh? I look at my watch: We were above the Mach for 45 straight minutes!!

The "break zone" was near the departure end right above our very own MX heroes. 9G Break Turn X2: that's what it took us to get below gear speed. Even at that speed I could hear the world's finest wrench benders and weapons troops screaming at the tops of their lungs!!

That was a sortie I will never forget!! I hope I can make it back.

ANIMAL

[Guest Dirt Beater]

Animal, your story gave me goosebumps. Got a few questions...

You have the word strong in parentheses a couple times...what does that mean?

Tell us more about the acceleration exercise!

[BFM this]

I'm thinkin that translates to "SOLID" for all you bruthas out there.

[Gravedigger]

Originally posted by flyinjunky:

I'm thinkin that translates to "SOLID" for all you bruthas out there.

And that means...? Does it also mean "heavy" not in the gravitational sense, but Marty McFly version? Or fully, as in "fully man, fully?"