"Mike Marron" wrote in message
...
"George Z. Bush" wrote:

PS - No more SST supersonic traffic.....it's the end of an era, and sad
because
of it. She was truly a unique bird.

Oh I dunno George, it ain't all that big of a deal in my humble
opinion. Perhaps now would be a good time to repost something
I forwarded to the NG a while back. Some of you have probably
seen it already, but for those whom haven't...enjoy!

I hadn't seen that, but I certainly did enjoy it. It was kind of a flier's
version of "be careful what you pray for, you just might get it!" Thanks.

George Z.

***

One fine hot Summer afternoon saw an ultralight flying patterns
at a quiet country airfield. The instructor was getting quite
bothered with the student's inability to hold pattern height
in the thermals and was getting impatient at sometimes having
to take over the controls. Just then he saw a twin engine Cessna
5,000 ft above him and thought "Another 1,000 hrs of this and
I qualify for that twin charter job! Aaahh.. to be a real
pilot..going somewhere!"

The Cessna 402 was already late and the boss told him this
charter was for one of the Companyspremier clients. He'd
already set MCT and the cylinders didn't like it in the heat
of this Summer's day. He was at 6,000 ft and the winds were
now a 20kt headwind. Today was the 6th day straight and he
was pretty damn tired. Maybe if he got 10,000ft out of them
the wind might die off... geez those cylinder temps! He looked
out momentarily and saw a B737 leaving a contrail at 33,000 ft
in the serene blue sky. "Oh man" he thought, "My interview
is next month. I hope I just don't blow it! Outa G/A, nice
jet job, above the weather... no snotty passengers to wait
for...aahhh."

The Boeing 737 bucked and weaved in the heavy CAT at FL330
and ATC advised that lower levels were not available due
traffic. The Captain, who was only recently advised that his
destination was below RVR minimums had slowed to LRC to try
and hold off a possible inflight diversion, and arrange an
ETA that would helpfully ensure the fog had lifted to CATII
minima. The Company negotiations broke down yesterday and
looked as if everyone was going to take a damn pay cut. The
F/O's will be particularly hard hit as their pay wasn't
anything to speak of anyway. Finally deciding on a speed
compromise between LRC and turbulence penetration, the Captain
looked up and saw Concorde at Mach 2+. Tapping his F/O's
shoulder as the 737 took another bashing, he said "Now THAT'S
what we should be on...huge pay packet...super fast...not
too many routes...not too many sectors...above the CAT...yep!
What a life...!"

FL590 was not what he wanted anyway and considered FL570.
Already the TAT was creeping up again and either they would
have to descend or slow down. That damn rear fuel transfer
pump was becoming unreliable and the F/E had said moments ago
that the radiation meter was not reading numbers that he'd
like to see. Concorde descended to FL570 but the radiation
was still quite high even though the Notam indicated hunky
dory below FL610. Fuel flow was up and the transfer pump was
intermittent. Evening turned into night as they passed over
the Atlantic. Looking up, the F/O could see a tiny white dot
moving against the backdrop of a myriad of stars. "Hey Captain"
he called as he pointed. "Must be the Shuttle. "The Captain
looked for a moment and agreed. Quietly he thought how a
Shuttle mission, whilst complicated, must be the be all and
end all in aviation. Above the crap, no radiation problems,
no damn fuel transfer problems...aaah. Must be a great way
to earn a quid."

Discovery was into its 27th orbit and perigee was 200 ft out
from nominated rendezvous altitude with the commsat. The robot
arm was virtually U/S and a walk may become necessary. The
200 ft predicted error would necessitate a corrective burn
and Discovery needed that fuel if a walk was to be required.
Houston continually asked what the Commander wanted to do but
the advice they proffered wasn't much help. The Commander had
already been 12 hours on station sorting out the problem and
just wanted 10 bloody minutes to himself to take a leak. Just
then a mission specialist, who had tilted the telescope down
to the surface for a minute or two, called the Commander to the
scope. "Have a look at this Sir, isn't this the kinda flying
you said you wanted to do after you finish up with NASA?" The
Commander peered through the telescope and cried "Ooooohhhhh
yeah! Now THAT'S flying! Man, that's what its all about! Geez
I'd give my left nut just to be doing THAT down there!" What
the Discovery Commander was looking at was an ultralight flying
patterns at a quiet country airfield on a nice bright sunny
afternoon......

[author unknown]