Friday, December 3, 2010

Dog with a Good Attitude

I witnessed a moment that summed up the concept “good attitude” today.

I wish I could have got it on film. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a camera ready, and even if I did it just wouldn’t have translated to film. Better that I paint the picture with words.

Close your eyes and imagine this:

Oops! You’re reading this. Closing your eyes won’t work will it?
Of course most of you figured that out, so we’ll just wait a minute for my sister Liz and her daughter Cassie to figure that out and open their eyes... it’ll just be a minute now… okay welcome back Liz, and it looks like Cassie fell asleep.

Okay, so anyway here’s the image:

It’s raining like crazy – and I mean POURING! 


This is not that silly little sprinkle we usualy call “pouring” here in LA. I’m talking real back-east big-drops-exploding-on-the-windshield-faster-than-the-wipers-can-handle-it POURING rain.

Now usually when it rains here in So Cal, all the natives pile in their cars, get on the freeway, and then stop in the middle of the road ‘cuz they know they can’t drive in the rain. But today it was coming down so hard, the natives all stopped before they got out of their driveways, leaving the rest of us cruising at 70mph on the freeways trying to pick out the white lane markers through the blur between wiper-swipes.

As my wiper swipes by, I notice something odd about the white Mercedes in front of me. In the midst of this hellacious downpour, the passenger window of this beautiful new Mercedes is wide open - full down - so that this big brown mutt can hang his head out the window.

I pulled along side for a better look, and sure enough there’s this big ole pup in all his glory: Triangle ears waving like championship pendants in the wind, tongue flapping out the side of his mouth in the breeze, that dog-going-for-a-ride smile on his face, and water, water, everywhere.

Despite the drenching rain in his face, he was having a ball!

That’s it. That’s all. That's the image.

This dog is my new hero.

This guy wasn’t about to let a little lousy weather ruin his ride in the car, and he wasn’t about to curl up on the back seat like some freakin’ plastic bobble-head Chihuahua!

Never mind that this was the kind of rain that stings when it hits you (at speeds much less than 70 by the way) - he didn’t care. Real dogs ride with their heads out the window and, dammit, he was going to hang it out in the breeze rain or no rain.

I doubt that golf ball sized hail would have stopped him. A ride in the car doesn't come along every day and nothing was going to spoil this one!
This pup had the right attitude.

And my hat’s off to this driver, too.
You know his nice new Mercedes was getting a tad.... ahhhh...  "humid" inside with that window down. But that's not the worst of it. What do you suppose happened when that dog pulled his drenched head and shoulders back into the car? I wouldn’t have wanted to be within 30 feet of that dog when he shook himself off, never mind trapped next to him in a car seat.

Anyway…that’s the image – dog's head out the window lovin’ the rain.

A simple moment's study in how to take and enjoy life as it comes.

For those who feel cheated that they didn’t get a real photo, here’s a shot from later in the day: A llama farm in the rain (yes I said llama) right smack on the San Andres fault above Palmdale. I can’t say the llamas were showing the same spirit as the pup, but the light was nice:




Tuesday, November 30, 2010

US Naval Aviation - 100 years old



2011 will mark the 100th year that the US Navy has been commanding the skies as well as the seas.

In clebration of the event, the Navy is painting a few jets in special retro paint schemes. Above are two T-45's in their standard training paint and a T-45C painted in a 1930's era scheme.



In the late 30's you might have caught aircraft with these colors operating from the USS Enterprise (CV-6).  Now, 70 years after the colors were abandoned, they fly once again on this lone Training Air Wing 1 bird.



Several squadrons have been authorized to paint one aircraft each in special historical schemes. Look forward to seeing a few more of these historical schemes in the future.

A real releif from the typical scrub-grey we're used to.



 

Friday, November 26, 2010

THE OLD GIRL RETIRES

(Originally published 11/2004)

Questions abounded at the post flight media briefing.

The press wanted to know how fast the X-43 had gone, how high it flew, how long it would be until we could all fly on a scramjet-powered airliner. These people had no idea what they had just witnessed.

While the mainstream media chattered about the X-43's latest flight, a few aviation photographers and journalists sat quietly in the corner of the room reflecting on the day. The X-43A had the media spotlight, but we knew the true story was with the supporting cast.


For the launch platform, NASA 0008, the B-52B testbed that has been a fixture at Edwards since the 1950s, it would be her last mission.


"Balls Eight" (named for the three zeros preceding the “8” in her serial number) first flew in 1955 and served all her days in the flight test community.

She had been the mothership to the US space program, carrying and launching everyting from the X-15 that explored high speed flight at the edge of space, to the lifting bodies that led to the space shuttle.

If X-vehicles were the classrooms that allowed us modern high speed atmospheric and space flight, then "Balls Eight" was the school bus.





Her starboard side is plastered with mission markings for HiMat, Pegasus, X-38, X-this, X-that... She may well be the single most historically significant airframe since the "Spirit of St. Louis" and the "Enola Gay".




She served nearly two decades in flight test with the Air Force before being transferred to NASA in 1976, where she served faithfully until this day. Though she still had the lowest airframe hours of any B-52 in service, parts for the old “B” model were hard to come by. NASA maintenance found many systems in 008 to be unique, and it was not unheard of to have to fabricate new parts from scratch. With a good number of B-52H models being retired from active duty, the wealth of “H” model airframes and spare parts in the bone yards led NASA to make a change. A younger “H” model B-52 was delivered to NASA Dryden, to take over missions.


“Balls Eight’s” final mission was a huge success. Thanks to the skill and dedication of the pilots, managers, and engineers on the X-43 project, the launch was perfect. All science goals were achieved, and the X-43 flew to mach 9.6-plus.

History had been made once again under the old girl’s wing.


After all the media questions were answered, the NASA public affairs officer was about to end the X-43 post flight press conference when he was interrupted by one of the X-43 panelists. There was just one more thing he wanted to say. He told the room that they had just witnessed a great airplane - 0008 - fly her last mission.


The room was quiet. Not because everyone shared the sweet sorrow felt by those few of us, but because they didn't understand that a huge era in aviation history had ended before their eyes.

Then the silence was broken by the slow clap of one old aviation buff’s hands, and then a few others who understood what they had just been a part of began to clap, and soon the room caught on and "Balls Eight” got a well deserved round of applause.

The media left, walking past the silhouette of an X-15 against a setting sun. It was a full-scale mockup of that magnificent rocket that, back in the late 50’s and 60’s, had taken the Wright Brothers dream to the edge of space from beneath the wing of old 0008. The X-15 had long ago been stuck on a pole and relegated to the job of "Gate Guardian".

The sun had set on 0008 as well, and the time had come for her to join her old partner on guard duty.




c 11/04 Dave Cibley

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Stunt Junkie Luigi Cani at Perris



The Porter doesn't fly that often.
At a busy dropzone like Perris, we just fill Twin Otters all day long.

Last week it did get some use as Luigi Cani worked on a stunt at his favorite DZ - our own Perris CA.
Luigi decided to do a little formation flying with an L-39 jet.



Of course the Porter isn't really fast enought to form up with a jet, so Luigi decided on another plan. He jumped out of the Porter and formed up in freefall wearing a wingsuit. So did his two cameramen.

See the little dots next to the jet? Yeah, that's them.



The stunt was sponsored by TNT (hence the TNT Enegry drink logo on the Porter) and it was all videotaped for future use. It'll turn up on one of those extreme sport shows or something, no doubt.

Here's some more info on Luigi with a lot of stuff from Perris. Check it out.

http://www.facebook.com/people/Luigi-Cani/1076586059#!/video/video.php?v=1208755293812

Sunday, November 21, 2010

The Owl

So there we are, cruising through the desert at 9:00 at night when suddenly a bird swoops in front of the truck.....THUMP....right between the headlights.
I hate it when that happens.

We decide to turn around to see if (make sure) it’s dead. We don't want to leave an injured animal lying in the road to suffer.  But when we turn around there's nothing there.

Dave F, who’s driving, thinks maybe it's stuck to the grill of the truck, so we pull over. Sure enough, there's a bird plastered to the grill.




But there's also a screech coming from under the hood. The bird is alive with his head stuck in the grill!

Dave F grabs a pair of gloves and his camera. He shoots pic's while I prepare to try to remove the stuck bird.

From what we can see, it's obviously a bird of prey. Complete with sharp talons and no doubt a powerful and nasty beak on the other end.

I put on the gloves and begin to check the bird for injury, first the wings then the legs, wondering all the while how I'm going to handle this wild thing safely (for both of us). I don't quite know if the talons will pierce the gloves, but I'm not looking forward to finding out.
As I get one leg under control, the other flails around until it finds my hand and grabs a hold. I was amazed at the power in these skinny little legs and feet as they clamp around my finger. Fortunately, the bird grabbed me more like a perch than prey, and its talons didn't dig in through the glove. The tight squeeze was very impressive. I think if the talons hadn't wrapped around my finger, it would have been ugly.

I get the bird's legs under control, and then I secure his wings. All appear to be strong and healthy. No sign of broken bones, no blood.

As I prepare to free his head. I wonder how I'm going to deal with that beak. My fingers aren’t any tougher than the mouse-flesh it rips apart for a living. If the talons - meant to simply catch and hold prey - were that strong,  then the beak, designed to tear prey apart, is going to be dangerous.

I gently tug the bird to free the head, but it won't budge.

We need to lift the hood.

As the hood goes up and we look inside, we confirm our suspicions: it's an Owl. The little guy is scared to death and his frightened screech becomes and angry warning as he sees us for the first time.

He's not cooperating with my efforts to hold his head to help maneuver it though the grill. I finally pull a finger out of the glove and put the empty glove finger in his face. He bites it with amazing force and won't let go, which allows me some control to position his head.



At least he's quiet now. The plastic slats that make up the grill flexed perfectly upon impact to trap this little head without injury, but now they won't flex easily to release him.

We break out the tools.

A pair of needle nose pliers spread the plastic just enough and the fact that his beak is clamped down on the glove like a vice allows me to maneuver his head to the right spot and angle.



In no time he's free of the grill.

Once free he doesn't even try to bite and he seems content to pose for a photo or two. No longer screeching, he allows me to check him out thoroughly for signs of damage.



Dave F and I debate taking him to a wildlife rehab, but he seems to be in perfect shape.

So we pose for one more photo together.



Then I open my hand and toss him gently in the air. And he flies off into the night.