Angelo Campanella wrote in
:

One day, high above Arizona, we were monitoring the radio traffic of all
the mortal airplanes below us. First, a Cessna pilot asked the air
traffic controllers to check his ground speed. "Ninety knots," ATC
replied. A twin Bonanza soon made the same request. "One-twenty on the
ground," was the reply. To our surprise, a navy F-18 came over the radio
with a ground speed check. I knew exactly what he was doing. Of course,
he had a ground speed indicator in his cockpit, but he wanted to let all
the bug-smashers in the valley know what real speed was "Dusty 52, we
show you at 620 on the ground," ATC responded.


The situation was too ripe. I heard the click of Walter's mike button in
the rear seat. In his most innocent voice, Walter startled the
controller by asking for a ground speed check from 81,000 feet, clearly
above controlled airspace. In a cool, professional voice, the controller
replied, "Aspen 20, I show you at 1,982 knots on the ground." We did not
hear another transmission that frequency all the way to the coast.

Angelo -

Thanks for posting this. It is most fascinating.

The above passage, which is all I reproduced here, is very similar to
what Brian Shul wrote in "Sled Driver" by Brian Shul. There are probably
more legends about this aircraft than any other.

In my copy, the third edition, on page 65 in the section titled
"Training Flights", it says (hopefully I didn't make too many typo's):

I'll always remember a certain radio exchange that occurred one day as
Walt and I were screaming across southern California 13 miles high. We
were monitoring various radio transmissions from other aircraft as we
entered Los Angeles Center's airspace. Though they didn't really control
us, they did monitor our movement across their scope. I heard a Cessna ask
for a readout of its groundspeed. "90 knots," Center replied. Moments
later a Twin Beech required the same. "120 knots," Center answered. We
weren't the only one proud of our speed that day as almost instantly an F-
18 smugly trnasmitted, "Ah, Center, Dusty 52 request groundspeed readout."
There was a slight pause. "525 knots on the ground, Dusty." Another
silent pause. As I was thinking to myself how ripe a situation this was, I
heard the familiar click of a radio transmission coming from by back-
seater. It was at that precise moment I realized Walt and I had become a
real crew, for we were both thinking in unison. "Center, Aspen 20, you got
a ground speed readout for us?" There was a longer than normal pause.
"Aspen, I show one thousand seven hundred and forty-two knots." No further
inquiries were heard on that frequency.

--
Marty Shapiro
Silicon Rallye Inc.

(remove SPAMNOT to email me)