Category Archives: Flying

Transients

By lex, on January 17th, 2012

Well, the video uploading was summat of a bust. Which is a pity, for I put some real time into it, not merely in the recording of the stuff, but in editing and adding motivational music, like. Which was my downfall, in the event. To hear YouTube tell it. Divers and sundry techniques were attempted to get around the prohibition of playing someone else’s music for no personal gain, to no effect. Thus far. We have not yet given up the fight!

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Video

By lex, on January 16th, 2012

Which that was more time consuming to edit, than it was to take.

Untitled from Nep Lex on Vimeo.

A lot more.

Update: Copyright issues, as many have surmised. Which there’s several ways to skin that cat, but all of them are time consuming and I’m on my way to Fallon via, Camarillo, amn’t I?

I am.

But I’ll figure something out. In time.

Update 2: Up, I think. Which that’ll be a long walk to a small house.

Update 3: Which the last two minutes or so didn’t make, something of a pity.

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Relaxed Stability

By lex, on January 13th, 2012

Two flights yesterday, one day and one night. In the day hop, we joined with two Marine FA-18s to serve as their wingmen for the adversary presentation. Merely maintaining formation and maneuvering mildly with the much more modern fighters vividly displayed what twenty years of fighter evolution can produce. A pair of medium bypass, afterburning fan engines, a model wing with automated high lift devices and digital flight controls can do things without trying that a J-79 engine mounted on a pure delta wing cannot, or at least, cannot do easily. I was in and out of afterburner just staying in position. Once the machine gets slow – anything less than 300 knots is officially “slow” – there’s just so much wing in the breeze, so much induced drag.

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Day Hop

By lex, on January 11th, 2012

I left my helmet and gloves in the bike’s panniers overnight, which I regretted a little when I put them on this morning – they were pretty cold, and I was freshly scrubbed; the combination was uncongenial. It was only ten minutes gate to gate from Port Why-me-me to Point Mugu, with a brief stop at the on-base Subway for something hot with eggs in it.

I’m only two days into this detachment, and already the Subway gag reflex is kicking in. An I were king, we’d have some proper food on base that retirees/contractors could indulge in, for to keep out wind and water.

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Fallon Squiblets

By lex, on November 30th, 2011

Got in on Sunday afternoon. Flew once on Monday, twice Tuesday. Comfortable in the basic cranking of the machine, getting her flying, bringing her back again. More or less comfortable in the tactical phase; tallies at the merge, merge geometry, shot opportunities, kill calls and acknowledgements. Not so eager as once I was to hurl myself into a brawl. Not merely because we are restricted, as contractors, to “limited maneuvering”. But also because the fire is damped, the embers drowning.

I don’t mind shooting a man, should he turn his tail in front of me. Just don’t want to work all that hard for it, in a machine that is destined to lose, should he see me. And the Kfir, she is no Hornet. The Hornet, I could make her sing. With 50 hours of flight time, the best I can wring out of the Kfir is a groan.

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Ejection seats I have known

By lex, on July 25th, 2004

I’ve never had to eject from an airplane (If fingers could stutter, mine just did. I hesitated mightily on that sentence – the superstitious impulse to knock wood right now is hard to overcome – even though I’m probably out of the ejection seat aircraft business forever).

But I’ve spent a fair amount of time sitting on top of a real e-ticket ride, forty pounds of pull away. The ejection seat is sometimes called “the final flight control” – when everything else fails, you’ve still got that.

EjectionSeatsIHaveKnown1

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Close Out

By lex, on November 12th, 2011

Something of a hectic day, yesterday. I’d filed my flight plan from Scott AFB to Newport News by 0630, and noted with a jaundiced eye that while the low clouds and rain had subsided, the frontal passage had left my destination whipped by strong winds, from 310 at 18 knots gusting to 28. The “long” runway at KPHF is 8000 feet long, which is the shortest runway I’ve landed the Kfir on so far. Throw in a crosswind component at precisely the operating limit with external stores, and it promised to be sporty.

It was, in the event.

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