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SR71 Blackbird

trukhead

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Very Cool Airplane and very interesting and cool stories form those that flew and spent time around these birds. Please keep the stories coming![thumbzup]
 

steelypip

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Thanks to decodeme2 for that reminiscence. Habus are not talkative people about their work with the aircraft - they are all aware that talking about the wrong part of what they did could hurt their country, land them in Leavenworth, or both. Even though most of the airframe technology is now public information, there is still a lot of stuff that is classified information about these aircraft, particularly parts that didn't go to the museums with the airframes and methods still in use. So when a habu does open up and share something, it's a treasure. Brian Shul has gotten more than his 15 minutes of fame partially because he is one of the few habus willing to go through the process of writing down his memoirs and getting them vetted and published. Most aviators are not prosaic people, and those who are tend not to have the personality type usually found in an SR-71 crewman.

My dad interacted with them on numerous occasions during his USAF career, both from his time working on various projects involving 'black' B-52s and C-135s, work involving the SR-71 itself, and being stationed on Okinawa during their time there and being familiar with and cleared for most of their technology.

The SR-71s were owned by SAC during most of their operational life. They shopped very carefully for crews for the aircraft. SAC was well aware that it was an exotic and dangerous aircraft with a very tight performance envelope and very little tolerance of exploring the boundaries of that envelope. It didn't reward seat-of-the-pants piloting except during brief periods when the ability was completely necessary. Yes, that's a contradiction. Operating the blackbird had more than its share of them.

The slang term I've heard most often from crewmembers was 'the sled,' which tells you something about the aircraft's behavior. The supersonic dynamics of the aircraft were so extremely different from what they were when it was subsonic that pilots were sequentially flying two different airplanes multiple times in every mission. Ability to maintain a tight focus on hitting the numbers in the cockpit even when things were exciting was a key requirement for both positions in the aircraft.

I've mentioned before that the blackbirds were essentially 'taken away' from the CIA in the late 1960s. Part of that was because the intelligence being developed by the SR-71 was more useful than what the A-12 could manage - the A-12 was exclusively a camera platform, and the coming of photo recon satellites meant that the eye could be a lot further up in the sky and a lot less vulnerable to SAM launches.

But part of it also was that SAC treated operation of the blackbird the same way they treated operation of any other national strategic asset. Training, inspection, and assessment were all rigorous. When something bad happened, a thorough investigation occurred and if a modification in procedure or equipment was required to prevent a recurrence, it was done, regardless of annoyance or expense. Blackbirds received a lot of modification to procedures and quite a bit of hardware modification over the decades specifically to mitigate or prevent some of the deadliest behaviors of a very high-strung machine with a lot of quirks (like the CG problem mentioned in decodeme2's post). CIA simply didn't have the institutional resources or the institutional focus on always doing this sort of hard, often boring technical work the 'right' way every time. The blackbirds at Beale had an enviable safety record. The same could not be said of those operated out of Groom Lake.
 

Another Ahab

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Awesome feature of this site is that any topic brings on the straight skinny from insiders in the know, about anything from brake linings and fuel injectors, to armor and even SR-71's (like in this case from decodeme2, steelypip, and others).

It doesn't get any better than this. It's the Best.
 
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wreckerman893

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Back in the late 70's I was an over the road trucker. I ran from Mississippi to California just about every week delivering processed poultry to LA and then going up in the valleys and loading produce to return back east. Sometimes I would end up coming over Tehachapi and through Mojave and heading back east on I-40.

The interstate parallels one of the runways at Edwards Air Force Base and I remember the first (and last) time I ever saw an SR-71 in flight. Myself and another driver were leaving Barstow and we had gotten a "Bear Report" that there were no cops between Barstow and Needles so we decided to drag race a little.

I was driving a conventional Western Star with a hot 400 Cummins and 15 speed overdrive that would run 106 MPH wide open. Traffic was very light and we put the pedal to the metal and let the trucks run.

It was just breaking day as we blew down the highway at over triple digits and I happened to glance over to my right just in time to see an SR-71 lift off from the runway with the afterburners on. Even over the roar of my unmuffled engine I could hear the scream of the jet engines. It was like a Roadrunner cartoon.....one minute the plane was there and the next it was gone.

The guy in the other truck yelled "what the ell was that" over the CB.

"That", I said, "is the fastest airplane in the world."
 
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That's not 'a' YF-12, that's the YF-12, I believe. There were only three: One was destroyed, one was damaged in a fire and rebuilt as SR-71C 61-7981.

The Smithsonian gets the flashiest airplanes, but NMUSAF in Dayton gets most of the coolest ones. The only surviving YF-12, B-36, and XB-70 are all there. So is Bockscar, which is the only original and intact aircraft ever to drop a nuclear weapon in wartime.
NMUSAF in Dayton is a place to behold. My memories of that museum go back to 1965. It has grown immensely over the years.
I would recommend it to anyone that enjoys aviation. For those not fortunate enough to visit in person, the museum has an excellent virtual tour on their website. There is a virtual tour of not only the museum collection but cockpits as well.
Back in the mid 90's I was lucky enough to participate in a few tours with access to many of the aircraft in the museum. To sit in the pilot's seat of Bockscar is a fond memory.
 

rtk

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The AF Museum in Dayton is something too see , took the tour at the MVPA convention a few years back , LOTS of cool military stuff , my only "complaint" is I needed more time to check everything out ! The restoration hanger was something to see , they were getting ready to put the wings back on the "BELLE", what a restoration hanger .
 

swbradley1

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Since I'm off for the next few days I might just head over there. All 12.6 miles away.
 
Hey guys... been reading through this and love it! On what Dave said about the drone(couple of months ago... late, i know), it peaked my interest and turns out I have been wanting to go to the museum that has the drone that crashed in China for a couple of years now. Next weekend I will be going and will take pictures!
from wikipedia: "The fourth, and last, flight of the D-21B was on 20 March 1971. It was lost over China on the final segment of the route. Wreckage of this lost D-21B was found by local authority in Yunnan province, China. In 2010, after being dumped in the junkyard of China Aviation Museum for years, the wreckage was finally officially moved to the exhibition area."
That is the museum I will be going to. I will find it and take pictures!!! It wasn't launched from the SR-71, but hey, it's related! (if it was, someone correct me)

Im also looking forward to seeing the PT-19 Fairchild they are supposed to have! My grandfather said it was his favorite plane he flew while an airman in WWII.
 

M813rc

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There were Mig encounters during 'Nam, but those were mostly aerial missile exchanges from afar weren't they? I confess I need to do more homework there.
For your homework assignment, check out the names Randy Cunningham, Steve Ritchie, and Robin Olds in regard to dogfighting the F-4, and Dick "Belly" Bellinger in the F-8.
A good introductory book is "...And Kill Migs" by Lou Drendel. [thumbzup]

Back to the SR-71 - I was lucky enough to see one perform at an airshow in San Antonio (around 1978 maybe?). Knowing something of its performance at speed, I was very impressed with its agility at low altitude and low (relatively) speed. I'm told the performance is very similar to the T-38 in the same regime. I recall it being a very noisy aircraft, and was particularly pleased with the diamonds of flame in the exhaust plume!

Cheers
 

Neophyte

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When I was in school, I did a technical report on the MD-500N (N for NOTAR: No Tail Rotor) and interviewed the chief engineer of the program (this was in 1989). We spent 15 minutes on the NOTAR program, and 1 hour on our favorite aircraft. Top of the list was two of the aircraft Kelly Johnson designed: P-38 and SR-71....LOCKHEED products!

What always amazed me was the SR-71 was designed, built and tested before the computer age.....out of titanium!! For anyone who has ever machined ANYTHING out of titanium.....they did this without CNC....compound curves.

Amazing!
 

cbear

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I love a good story, but the timelines don't track.

"My first encounter with the SR-71 came when I was 10 years old in the form of molded black plastic in a Revell kit."

"Twenty-nine years later, I stood awe-struck in a Beale Air Force Base hangar, staring at the very real SR-71 before me. I had applied to fly the world's fastest jet and was receiving my first walk-around of our nation's most prestigious aircraft."

"In April 1986, ... My duty was to fly over Libya and take photos"

"In 1962, the first Blackbird successfully flew, and in 1966, the same year I graduated from high school, the Air Force began flying operational SR-71 missions."

Was he building a Revell model of a Top Secret plane in 1957-58?
 

phil2968

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This is from the same book as the first post. I
know it's long but worth reading....



I don't know of any ludicrous speeding tickets so I can't participate in today's QOTD, but it did remind me of my favorite SR-71 story.

This is an expanded excerpt from*Brian Schul's book*Sled Driver : Flying the World's Fastest Jet.*(which happens to be out of print and ludicrously expensive now, I wish I had bought a copy when I could have afforded it).


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 " Houston Center voice." 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 Houston controllers, 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. "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 replay 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 Houston Center voice, 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.
 
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