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Blackbird

Ms Tree

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Fly Fly blackbird

Always loved this plane. I wonder when we will find out what replaced it. I had heard/read rumors about a project called Aurora but never any thing confirmed.
 
Good Video Tree !

Hard to believe this aircraft has been around 50 years !

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lockheed_SR-71_Blackbird
 
The technology that had to be invented to develop the aircraft was quite amazing. There is a book out that I believe is written by one of the pilots of the Blackbird. He talks about a fly over of Iran or Iraq and they had a missile lock on them. They just put the throttle to the fire wall and powered away.

That must have been a rush to fly that plane. I have gone to several air shows but was never fortunate to have the privileged to see one do a fly by. Best I saw was a P51, F15 and a F22 do a fly by. Past, present and future. It was pretty neat.
 
The aircrew said they were flying so high and so fast that when they went from day to night it was like soemone hit a light switch.
 
That thing had a RCS of a sparrow I think. If I remember they used fuel as a coolant for the pilots suits.

Baddest pic I think of the Habu:

sr71_08.jpg


Make Raynor Sarnac proud.

They were tweaking this hog in the mid fifties.
 
I believe you are correct about the coolant. They used a heat exchanger in the A/C system that would dump the heat into the fuel before combustion. I believe they also used it to cool the hydraulic fluid as well.

I also heard that the US set up a shell company to by the titanium from Russia since they had the best supply. That right there is irony.
 
I found these stories about the Blackbird. Every time I hear the speed check I just have to grin.

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 "HoustonCenterVoice." 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 HoustonCenterControllers, 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.

"Ah, Twin Beach: 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 reply 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 HoustonCentervoice, 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.


In another famous SR-71 story, Los Angeles Center reported receiving a request for clearance to FL 60 (60,000ft).

The incredulous controller, with some disdain in his voice, asked, "How do you plan to get up to 60,000 feet?"

"The pilot (obviously a sled driver), responded, "We don't plan to go up to it, we plan to go down to it."

He was cleared...

I guess it is a little hard not to be cocky when you are driving the most advanced aircraft of it's time at near mach 3 doing crap that dam near every guy on the planet only dream of. I know every time I see a video or picture it I close my eye and imagine my self in the front seat. B)
 
Makes one wonder what they got behind the curtain now?

ufo3.jpg


Project Aurora. Rumored at Mach 6+. I read an article a while back that quoted some geologists. They said they detected seismic activity that was not land based. hey said it had the signature of a sonic boom. Who knows what they have up their sleeve. 😛h34r:
 
I found these stories about the Blackbird. Every time I hear the speed check I just have to grin.



I guess it is a little hard not to be cocky when you are driving the most advanced aircraft of it's time at near mach 3 doing crap that dam near every guy on the planet only dream of. I know every time I see a video or picture it I close my eye and imagine my self in the front seat. B)

Excellent post, thank you for this thread! What is the name of this book?

(it is for these kind of posts that I returned to the board...)
 
I do not recall the name. I know it was a coffee table book (lage book with pictures). I also know it was written by a blackbird pilot. If you do a search or check a big book store you should be able to find it.

It was an interesting read if you are into the airplane.
 
Too many problems with secrecy over US soil. Best place is over water....no eyes so to speak.
Read reports of sonic booms and such off the coast of Ireland in something a few years ago....Think about it.....over water testing probably the ticket.
 
Too many problems with secrecy over US soil. Best place is over water....no eyes so to speak.
Read reports of sonic booms and such off the coast of Ireland in something a few years ago....Think about it.....over water testing probably the ticket.


May be they were doing an endurance run? IIRC he Blackbird did cost to coast in 60 min flat out on it's last run. So it can probably do the Atlantic in what, two hours? Pacific in three and change? You run out of water pretty quick at mach 6 or better. I know they have been developing SCRAM jets and if I remember right they tested one recently. So who knows how fast they are going and how long they have been doing it for. Then there is the fact that the sonic booms might not have been ours. The Russians are pretty good at the speed thing and I just saw in the paper that the Chinese now have a fighter that on paper can fly rings around the F35 and is potentially more advanced than the F22. They might have developed an advanced spy aircraft as well.
 
I also heard that the US set up a shell company to by the titanium from Russia since they had the best supply. That right there is irony.

One of those things that makes you proud to be an American. Getting an adversary to unknowingly help you build the aircraft you are going to use to spy on him. USA, USA, USA!!! 😀
 
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