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Thread: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

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    Default SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    for those who geek out on fighter jets from the halcyon days of when a fighter jet was not an xbox i give you this little gem found on tinternet

    NMUSAF - SR-71A Front Cockpit

    pilots eye position in the front seat of the sled

    go to the homepage and you can tour the museum

    http://nmusafvirtualtour.com/full/tour-std.html

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Oh my........that is just plain sexy and yes I would love to fly or take a ride in that bird
    my oh my oh my
    Friends don't let friends ride clinchers

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Heard the Blackbird was the last military airplane designed with slide rules.
    Joel Greenblatt

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Lifted from elsewhere;

    This is an extract of a real event from Brian Shul's memoirs "Sled Rider", recounting his time flying the SR-71. Thought you might like.

    There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

    It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

    I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury. Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.

    We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed.

    Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground."

    Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the "HoustonCenterVoice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the HoustonCenterControllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that... and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.

    Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed.

    "Ah, Twin Beach: I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed."

    Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren.

    Then out of the blue, a Navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios.

    "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check."

    Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it -- ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet.

    And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion:

    "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground."

    And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done -- in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now.

    I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn. Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet.

    Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke:

    "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?"

    There was no hesitation, and the reply came as if was an everyday request:

    "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."

    I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice:

    "Ah, Center, much thanks. We're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money."

    For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the HoustonCentervoice, when L.A. came back with,

    "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one."

    It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work.

    We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast. For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.
    Neil

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Great story and so well written as well. The Blackbird will always be known as The King of dpeed no matter how many faster planes come after it.
    __________________________________________

    "Even my farts smell like steel!" - Diel

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Nice story!
    luis prado alonso

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Quote Originally Posted by Clockwork View Post
    Heard the Blackbird was the last military airplane designed with slide rules.
    This is along the same lines as what I thought when I saw the cockpit picture.

    One reason it looks cool is that it's ancient analog technology, with tons of individual displays. These days it would be several multifunction displays that aren't nearly as impressive, unless they're turned on. If the plane were still operational I assume they would have upgraded things a bit.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Quote Originally Posted by Clockwork View Post
    Heard the Blackbird was the last military airplane designed with slide rules.
    Legend has it that many years later they went in with a cray and tried to find where improvements could have been made. Turns out there weren't any. Maybe a completely different ground up design would perform better, but the legend (and I've tried to source it beyond the grey hairs who told me and haven't been able to) is that the design is as good as it can get given the basic parameters.

    That's a super cool site--thanks Mike. The fisheye on the camera makes the cockpit seem way, way more open than it actually is. It's a very claustrophobic feeling sitting down in the thing (I may or may not have had a quick sit in an A-12 when it was getting stripped of its radar absorbing paint before being put out as a static). An absolute marvel.

    If there are jet plane and engineering story nerds here, Rich's book "Skunk Works" is a fantastic memoir.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    America. Fuck yeah.
    "As an homage to the EPOdays of yore- I'd find the world's last remaining pair of 40cm ergonomic drop bars.....i think everyone who ever liked those handlebars in that shape and in that width is either dead of a drug overdose, works in the Schaerbeek mattress factory now and weighs 300 pounds or is Dr. Davey Bruylandts...who for all I know is doing both of those things." - Jerk

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Really great story. As a kid the SR-71 was hands-down my favorite aircraft - just effortlessly cool.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    My favorite thing about that plane is that the titanium to build it was sourced from USSR during the cold war. Lockheed worked with the CIA to set up fake companies to procure it and bring it into the US as our capacity for refining the material wasn't sufficient.

    I love the speed check story as well.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    And it achieved this remarkable performance using 1950s technology:

    J 58.jpg

    [Detail of Pratt & Whitney J58 at Evergreen Air Museum]

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    bat plane

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    You had to have a set of brass ones to fly something like that.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Quote Originally Posted by djm323 View Post
    And it achieved this remarkable performance using 1950s technology:

    J 58.jpg

    [Detail of Pratt & Whitney J58 at Evergreen Air Museum]
    I've been through that museum a few times, never noticed the old school ancillary stuff on the engine though. Did they ever use that turbine in anything else?

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Quote Originally Posted by Mr B View Post
    Lifted from elsewhere;

    This is an extract of a real event from Brian Shul's memoirs "Sled Rider", recounting his time flying the SR-71. Thought you might like...
    I re-read this story every time the thread pops up on my new posts list. My pulse quickens, my chest flutters and I'm unable to stifle my smile, each and every time I read it. Thanks for sharing this.
    Bill Showers

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    skunk works book is a great read. best story on this plane is france refusing to give air access for a mission from england to egypt i believe. on the return they had an engine light go on and shut down the second engine. They decided to cut accross france anyway so the french scrambled some jets to intercept and as i recall, demanded that they put the plane down. they did not land that plane in france.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    The best part of Skunk Works for me was the discussion of the roots of the stealth program - that some genius at Lockheed in the 70's backed the underlying concept out of a Russian research paper, that Carter wanted to and did put all possible R&D behind the stealth program and took a big pr hit for defunding the B-1, but took the hit rather than leak any details about stealth. Good stuff.

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Space Shuttle Discovery (OV-103) Interactive Virtual Tour - 360VR Images by Jook Leung

    Heres a pano inside the space shuttle

    50s-70s planes were super cool.

    tumblr_mm9wymtxNt1rq7x1to3_500.jpg

    XB70 rear end...

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    Default Re: SR71 sled geeks your trousers may move on their own

    Quote Originally Posted by spopepro View Post
    If there are jet plane and engineering story nerds here, Rich's book "Skunk Works" is a fantastic memoir.
    Just got this book from the library, looking forward to the read. Thanks for the suggestion!

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