Since his retirement from the Air Force in the late 70s, General Yeager lived just “up the hill” in Nevada County, in part of our historic gold rush region.
He certainly was an American Icon. Not only for what he did, being the first person to break the sound barrier, but the way he did it.
Which started the evening before in the desert at Pancho Barnes’ Happy Bottom Riding Club. By the way, do you know how this legendary place, long since gone, got its name? I didn’t know for years, and as is my nature kept looking until I found the answer.
Pancho rented horses, horses allegedly so gentle, that the rider was guaranteed a “happy bottom” in riding them!
I’ve had an Internet friend for years, who is a retired Air Force test pilot, who remembered for years seeing the ruins of Pancho’s on the edge of Edwards (called Muroc in its early days).
Anyway, the icon part of the story started the evening before that historic October morning, when Yeager fell off one of those gentle horses and broke some ribs.
And since he didn’t want the mission to be cancelled the next morning and in all probability lose his ride, kept this news from the powers-that-be.
Sidebar: If someone else had taken his place next morning, would he have survived? Yeager encountered extreme buffeting in that Bell, and nearly lost control. One of the reasons they learned later on was because of the conventional elevators on the horizontal stabilizer. The fuselage was shaped like a .50 caliber bullet, but the empennage was like all empennages at the time. With a conventional horizontal stabilizer.
What they learned from this flight, with help from our cousins the British (OK, full disclosure – I think from their own experiments into supersonic flight, they contributed this design for us!) A stabilator made the transition to supersonic flight almost seamless. Unlike the illustration above a stabilator uses the entire horizontal stabilizer as an elevator, and pivots on the fuselage.
Since this site is dedicated to Hizzoner, here is the stabilator from an F/A-18 Hornet:
So anyway, back to the making of an icon. Despite the pain of broken ribs (alas, no happy bottom the previous evening!), Yeager shows up at the appointed time and because of the pain, asks his friend to help him by giving him a lever to close the lock on the hatch, which was a broom handle.
On that cold crisp desert morning, those on the ground heard a shock wave, and assumed the worst. And Yeager flew into aviation history.
I remember some passages from his autobiography I read years ago. How many airline pilots of the 50s, in talking on the passenger intercom, wanted to imitate that West Virginia drawl. How in training at Tonopah in an Aircobra, witnessed terrible attrition from new pilots.
How over in Germany, and seeing an overwhelming number of 109s and Focke-Wulfs, would just dive into the melee.
How in one of those melees, he became an ace – shooting down 5 planes- in a matter of minutes.
Part of his secret, he would admit, was his vision which was 20-10.
For a fighter pilot, particularly one before all the electronic days, being able to see enemy planes first could mean the difference between life and death.
Chuck was the epitome of cool.
I would like to think that there is some party at Pancho’s now.
Oh, and about my own small moment? It was so small I think I can say with certainty that Chuck wouldn’t even remember it.
It was probably during the time during the 80s he was associated with AC-Delco.
I was going south down Hwy 99, a rather boring and desolate highway running down the middle of the Central Valley, in my Toyota. And as was my nature at the time, trying to eck out a few MPH over the limit, while hoping not to attract the attention of the Highway Patrol.
Anyway, somewhere below Galt, I saw a metallic blue Corvette just ambling along in the right lane.
Which caught my attention because, well, most Corvette drivers wouldn’t putt along at 55 on the highway.
As I got closer I saw the license plate – “Bell X1A“. I was wondering at that moment if the driver was who I thought it might be.
As I passed, sure enough it was General Yeager, driving with nothing to prove.