| Author | Message | ||
     Sleez |
WHAT'S YOUR CALL SIGN? Below is an article written by Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated. He details his experiences when given the opportunity to fly in an F-14 Tomcat. If you aren't laughing out loud by the time you get to "Milk Duds," your sense of humor is broken. "Now this message is for America's most famous athletes: Someday you may be invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have... John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity...Move to Guam. Change your name. Fake your own death! Whatever you do. Do Not Go!!! I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast! I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach. Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast. Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting ..." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff." Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning. "Bananas," he said. "For the potassium?" I asked. "No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down." The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot. but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, this was it. A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious. Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14. Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, snap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us. We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie. And I egressed the bananas. And I egressed the pizza from the night before. And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that never thought would be egressed. I went through not one airsick bag, but two. Biff said I passed out. Twice. I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down. I used to know 'cool'. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know 'cool'. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand. A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit. What is it? I asked. "Two Bags." | ||
| Nutsosane |
on the floor! Excellent.NUTS | ||
| Charlieboy6649 |
Awesome!! | ||
| U4euh |
My sense of humor is NOT broken, too funny! | ||
| Essthreetee |
TWO BAGS!!!!!!!   | ||
| Bomber |
great story -- there's one like this every so often in motorhead mags (2 and 4 wheel alike) -- while never flying in a fighter aircraft, I CAN attest to the banana theory -- it works! | ||
| Road_thing |
Remind me to tell you about my F-4 ride at Pensacola back in '71 sometime... "Two Bags" got it right. rt | ||
| Cataract2 |
I hope when I get into the military I can get a chance to ride in one. Hope.... | ||
| Wardog3187 |
Holy crap Batman, Milk Duds from the 6th grade!!  | ||
| Oldog |
Thanks for sharing that Sleez.. 2 bags.... yes I would go right now( then again I am a pilot ) but I wanna fly it.. (Message edited by oldog on March 01, 2006) | ||
| Bluzm2 |
That is one of the funniest things I've read in a VERY long time! Thanks ton's for posting it. I'm sending it to everyone I know.. Brad | ||
| Bluzm2 |
On a related note: http://www.military.com/features/0,15240,88041,00.html?ESRC=navy-a.nl ABOARD USS THEODORE ROOSEVELT - A chapter in naval aviation history drew to a close Feb. 8 aboard USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN 71) with the last recovery of an F-14 Tomcat from a combat mission. . . . . The rest of the article is at the link above. I didn't want to detract too much from Sleez's post... I'm still smiling from it! Brad | ||
| Skeeter_xb |
Got an F-16 ride in Oct 04 and yeas i threw the •••• up! | ||
| Doitindark |
If you can handle a F-16 ride try a C-17 cargo plane. It may not sound like much but in a nearly window less cargo bay doing low levels, it tests the best of us. | ||
| Vaneo1 |
Try being on a ship in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. I was doing my rounds one night and threw up 7 times in the bow of the ship. Its like being in a room with no gravitational pull, and then suddenly being pushed downward. Great story that was too funny..."Biff"..haha | ||
| Nedwreck |
I got a ride in a C-130 flown by the 172nd AW based here in Jackson. The thrill of a lifetime. I'm one of those weirdos that like the so-called (not by me) "trash haulers" better than fighters. Bob | ||
| Jackbequick |
Great story Sleez! I'm with Ned - I caught a hop from Oceana, Va to NAS North Island (San Diego, CA) in a VRC squadron C-130 a couple of years ago. I was the only pax on the plane and they gave me the navigator's position for a seat since it was not being used. Whoo haw! Best day I ever spent in an airplane, I almost got a sun burn! I was so happy I bought the crew lunch at the fuel stop in Texas. Jack (Message edited by jackbequick on March 08, 2006) |
