GRUBYGUST.COM - Gust Jenson's home on the Web


Home Introduction Adventures Bikes Fun stuff Links Photo albums Weird stuff

During the dull, drab, depths of last Wisconsin's winter, as the fire burned low in the winters dark and the wind hooted about the eaves, I thought of friend, Jerry and the many discussions of "ADVENTURE" we had had on various rides and trails. Dreaming the dreams of winter fantasies while surfing the net I found it would be possible for a bald, somewhat overweight retired child psychologist, on the down side of 65, to become a fighter pilot. To actually fly a fighter aircraft and engage in (simulated) combat despite the fact that my only previous experience with (semi) controlled flight had been jumping off garage roofs as a child, many, many years ago. At least I was successful in that endeavor as nothing ever broke and I always found the ground. That gave me confidence. Thus I called, Air Combat USA and was connected to Toni, a very nice lady in southern California who pleasantly informed me that my age and weight were no bar to gaining aircraft combat experience so I registered - and the wait began. The Air Combat Squadron tours the country every year, offering people like me the opportunity to be a fighter pilot for a day and my day was to be July 22. As the day approached excitement and anticipation increased and I decided to immerse myself, as much as possible in this new learning experience. I was flying on Sunday and other flights were scheduled for Saturday so I decided to go up to the field on Saturday and "hang around", learn what I could learn and leisurely take pictures. Having made a number of motorbicycle, with a sidecar, trips around and about I plotted a route on "Streets and Trips" that looked fairly simple. Some friends (Kevin and Wayne) had been suggesting that what I really need tis a GPS, bit I figured a map and compass was good enough for Daniel Boone. Well needless to say I got lost (several times), finally gave up on the map and just steered WNW until I suspicioned I was close to the Flying Cloud Airport in Eden Prairie Minnesota given clues such as that in the picture below. Having successfully arrived I began to wander about, taking J.R. Tolkien's words to heart that, "Not all those that wander are lost." The Flight Line
For Jerry: Fly Navy For Wayne: Semper Fidelity
Kinda reminds me of a Ural "Gear Up"

Lest we forget, please keep your static port clean Wonder why one needs a Rescue Canopy Release.

There must be some reason why the engine needs work, hope "Smudge" does it right.

Also sharing the runway, something I also hope to ride in some day.

At last we know the secret of what keeps these things up. Marvel Mystery Oil, by the gallon.

After wandering around outside I joined a preflight briefing in progress inside. Here "Smudge" of the greasy hands is demonstrating to the pilots and their families how to get the the other fellow in your sights. Basic facts in combat are: 1) If you lose sight (of your opponent) you lost the fight (are shot down). This results in some weird cockpit contortions, perhaps unfamiliar to many people, but quite familiar to surviving motorbicyclers. That is, "You gotta look where you wanna go." Sooo, if the bogie tis 6 o'clock high you lay on your back in the cockpit, looking up and back, NOT where the plane is going at the moment. If a at 6 o'clock low you do a 180 turn while banking at a 90 degree angle, wing tip pointed at the ground, looking back over shoulder while diving to intercept: 2) Be GENTLE. One simply does not manhandle or "horse" the aircraft around the sky - be aggressive but "smooth" and "gentle". Again, like a good motorbiker. The next day I was to learn the difficulty in doing this. Under regular flying conditions and even precision flying I used 2 or 3 fingers on the stick. In combat I got excited, gripped the stick in a fist and was not able to consistently keep the target in the crosshairs. Rather I could only "slash" at it as it drifted through my sight, not because of his evasive maneuvers, rather because I consistently over corrected and swung beyond the target. The last portions' of the briefing involved the use of parachutes - only to be used in case of major fire or a wing falls off, as craft glides well if engine fails, and the use of the "White Mike" (Sic-Sac, Barf bag, etc) Apparently the record was a customer who went to a buffet lunch before his flight and filled 7 bags. Warned not to throw used bag overboard as inhabitants below tend to get upset if thusly "bombed". Other "Safety Rules" are no "head on" approaches. Rather try to get behind, either high or low and intercept anywhere in the 9 to 6 to 3 o'clock area. Also (Thank Goodness!!!) a new definition of "ground" was established. "Soft Ground" occurs at an altitude or 4000 feet above sea level, which in this area is about 3000 feet above the dirt. The pilot warns you if you drop to 4000 feet by saying '"Soft Ground" and repeats this as needed until you climb back above 4000 feet or drop to 3500. At 3500, he counts down, 3500, 3400, 3300, 3200, 3100 and at 3000 combat ends as you have reached "Hard Ground" and crashed among the cornstalks because you didn't pull up in time.

Briefing ends, bladders emptied and pilots man their planes.

The planes have been gassed up, but even seeing the above sight each pilot visually checked (opened the gas cap) the 2 wing and 2 wing tip tanks before entering the plane			Parachute fitted.

Into cockpit. Two glass disks are the sights, the pilot does the landing and take offs as well as taking over to set up combat, practice and other flight situations. He, of course, handles all radio communications, the throttle (combat is at full throttle for the duration), TV cameras and gas tank switching, as well as instruction: "nose down. pull up - harder - harder, bank left, more more more, etc. I handle the stick, try to keep my opponent in sight (Remember, "If you lose sight you lose the fight"), hope the tummy stays put and huff, grunt and scream in hi g situations to keep blood in head to avoid "graying out". I learned that my "g tolerance" is between 4 1/2 and 5 g's as somewhere in that range vision constricted (tunnel vision) more and more until there was nothing but a light gray (I didn't scream/huff soon enough). Could hear, move hands and arms and speak but at that many gravities could not lift head and when vision returned ( a couple of seconds) could only attempt to find the bogie by rolling head and eyes, until g's decreased to point I could lift head. As the saying goes' "Lose sight (of opponent, lose fight". I was shot down as couldn't find him quick enough to take evasive action.




Taxiing to take off point.

After the Air Combat craft had passed on the way to the runway I began to move out to get a better picture. Luckily, I always remember my maternal grandfather who worked for the railroad. Walking home for lunch one day, along the tracks, he saw a train coming and without looking behind him stepped over to the other track. There was a train there also. Sooo, glancing behind, I espied another aero plane, not previously seen and determined that it was not an good time to move further out. So took pictures from a more distant location.



An interesting tidbit. Apparently basic training for precision flying in the services is 36 hours and it tis illegal for it to be taught in civilian flight schools. We had 10 minutes of "on the job" training and on the way to and from the combat zone took turns being the leader and wingman. When the pilots flew we were within 5 feet or so of each other. I don't know how close my wing man got to me but when he was lead and I was the wing man, 30 feet was as close as I was comfortable with. Interesting experience as under such conditions, he was the only thing that existed for me, or any other "wingman" for that matter. Eyes on him ALL the time, NEVER looking where you are going, but ALWAYS trying to keep relative position to the other plane. Have to trust him completely not to fly you into a mountain, as apparently has happened on more than one occasion. So pilots took off in precision formation, separated a bit (from the 5 feet) and turned the plane over to us for the precision lead and wing experience.

After returning from the "mission" a debriefing occurred where a coordinated play of the recordings from each plane occurred so all could see what they did and saw, simultaneously what their opponent did/saw. The pilots switched between 4 cameras: the "Hero" camera (wide view on me, of course), gun sight camera, over the shoulder camera and left outside view as we always began combat approaching left to left. As soon as we passed each other the sky was wide open. I didn't know if the bogie was going to dive, climb, bank or roll, I just knew he was going to do his darnedest to get on my tail. He didn't know what I was going to do other than I was going to try to get behind him, so we kinda danced around the sky, right side up, sideways and upside down. Not upside down for more than 8 seconds though because with carbureted engines they would quit as a result of fuel starvation and one would lose speed/altitude and probably get shot down. My engine quit once when in a tight bank as the high wing tip tank had run dry.



Leaving the field, on the way to the motel, I passed a "For Sale" Lot



Back at the motel with my 42" flat screen TV (Do you know why it was/is a 42" flat screen and not some other dimensions? I learned?) and the soon to be infamous coffee pot, I opened my Fleet Farm baggie and ate my standard "trail supper" The following was sent to the SKUNK list the next day, after I had arrived home. Ate lightly last night, no toddy, but a motel movie and early to bed, after noting that there was a coffee pot in the motel room, so with provisions brought from home, a light breakfast was taken care of. Please see home page picture. Up this morning, fumbled for glasses and got ready to make coffee. Looking at coffee maker found no carafe and did not relish a trip to the desk to get one. Looked further and found there was no “tray” in which to put a coffee packet into after removing it from the foil. HMMMMM!!!! Strange, sloppy housekeeping --- or ----- or ------ or ------ this IS a small coffee maker of a type I have not seen before. Looks like the adjacent cup would fit where a carafe usually is, and experiment proves this deduction to be correct. Looking inside the water reservoir reveals a small volume, about one cup worth. HMMMM, OK a single cup coffee maker. This suggests a single cup coffee packet rather than the larger ones used for the carafe type. Open foil coffee packet and discover as single serving packet of coffee complete with tray. Eureka, problem solved!!!! Insert coffee packet/tray combination, pour cup of water in reservoir, turn maker on and retire to the room with the white wallpaper whilst the coffee brews. Return for a good cuppa only to find I had neglected to put cup where carafe has traditionally been with the result that my coffee had spread over the counter and was running over the edge to the floor. Golly Gee Whiz and DRAT!!!! Luckily a second packet of full octane coffee was included with the room so successfully brewed a second cup. Half way through my second, first cup of coffee (reminds one of the SKUNK Rally), the inspiration hits, that by adding the two used coffee packets to one packet tray I could brew a third, second cup without sacrificing too much strength and proceed to implement this brilliant, early morning, grown out of desperation, idea. One cup of water, cup under drain, 2 coffee packets in one tray. Shortly discovered that 2 coffee packets clogged the tray drain hole resulting in coffee overflowing, missing the cup and spreading over the counter and running over the edge to the floor. Golly Gee Whiz and DRAT!!!! Again, with an occasional “DARN” thrown in. Getting more towels, the thought keeps intruding on my consciousness that," If I can’t operate a coffee pot, why am I ever thinking of engaging in an activity where I have to take two feet off the ground simultaneously?” However, recognizing the Minnesota Air Force’s need for assistance in repelling the Iowan invaders I rose to the challenge and didn’t even have to use my parachute once. Pictures and lies to follow, 0001 of “The Squadron”

Well the pictures and lies, up to my actual flights have been presented above. There are no pictures of the flights, only DVD recordings which need editing (which I don't know how to do) and then posting (which I don't know how to do either). I did write the following with regard to the video: Now have 1 hour 56 minutes of video, although with intermissions and interruptions by the peanut, popcorn and beer man it might be stretched to 2 ½ hours of incredibly boring footage. Things seemed to have happened so much faster in the air, kinda like 20 minutes of boredom (Ha!!!, as if one can be bored flying a fighter plane the first time) followed by 4 minutes, or so, of non-stop activity as one tumbles about the sky. No way to tell from the tape that one is weighing 4 or 5 times their typical, already overweightness, can’t lift their head, that vision is graying out around 4 ½ g’s, that the helmet is bumping the canopy at negative gravities or the physical sensations when one drops the nose to gain speed, pulls up sharply into a loop and from an inverted position does a lateral/barrel roll around the opponent to get him in your sights. The video is calm, placid and not at all exciting – that be why peanuts, popcorn and beer is also offered. Never, never, never intending to grow up 0001, who is putting together an account of his defense of Minnesota, lutefisk and lefsa with the still pictures he took and will post the link when finished. Finally, an important learning, something that took a while to internalize: "No matter what your eyes tell you, in flight, "down" is where your sitting is - as long as you have airspace My record for the 6 free for all dog fights: I was shot down once, I shot my opponent down twice and I scared the squirrels and bunnies by crashing into corn fields thrice. Didn't quite learn to walk the tight rope between hard banks with and without buffeting. Wait till next year!!! I also learned that to taxi the aircraft reasonably straight, "Try to follow the yellow line, Gust", which was much like steering a sidecar rig using tug and tub brakes and to "trim" the aircraft in flight, which is much like rig lean adjustment to achieve neutral steering effort. Many, Many Thanks to the pilots who were brave enough to more than once say, "Gust, you've got the plane,": WORM: Larry received his wings in Nov. 1962 as a Naval Aviator. After one year as a flight instructor in T2A's at NAAS Meridian, he received orders to VA-86 at Oceana, VA to fly A4E Skyhawks. During his ten-month deployment to Vietnam in 1965, he flew 125 combat missions receiving the Distinguished Flying Cross, ten Air Medals, and other awards. He transferred to VA-174 as the senior Landing Signal Officer (LSO) training pilots to land on the aircraft carrier. After eight years, he left the military for Trans World Airlines but was furloughed after just eight months. Larry then rejoined the Navy assuming responsibility for an A4 group on the USS Intrepid. As an operations officer in VA-15, an A7E squadron, Larry made his 1,000th carrier landing. He graduated with a BA and MEd from the University of North Florida and retired from the Navy with 20 years active service. After being furloughed for sixteen years, Larry was recalled by TWA, where he flew the L1011, B727, DC9, and MD80, retiring in April 2001. Larry is also an avid skydiver, with over 4100 skydives. BOOM: Robert R. “Boom” Powell attended Penn before Pensacola and Navy flight training. He flew attack missions in Vietnam and was later an instructor pilot in the A-4 Skyhawk. Boom transitioned to the RA5C Vigilante and returned to Vietnam flying reconnaissance “unarmed and unafraid”. After being the LSO for the RA5C RAG, he returned to the fleet for two deployments. He was in VF-43 at NAS Oceana for two years flying A-4s and T-38s, followed by tour as Naval Attaché to South Africa. After 20 years in the Navy, he was hired by Pan American and, after they passed into history, joined Atlas Air and became a captain flying freight world-wide in Boeing 747’s. Boom loves aviation and has flown DC-3 charters in Africa, Turbo-porters, historic Skyraiders, SNJ’s, and aerobatics in anything that can loop. He was a pilot for sport parachuting, recently discovered soaring and now owns a Libelle sailplane. http://www.aircombatusa.com/pilot_bios.php and to all the other AIR COMBAT people: http://www.aircombatusa.com/index.php


Home \| Introduction \| Adventures \| Bikes \| Fun stuff \| Photo albums \| Weird stuff