If I wasn't used to it, this might seem crazy. The airfield on the Marine base is closed over the weekend. We are behind schedule in our training, so the squadron wants to fly on the weekend... Well, we can't fly out of the closed airfield so instead we took a few aircraft and parked them last night (Friday night) at the local civilian airport so we can still get to them during the weekend. Now we can fly during the weekend!
Yesterday taking the aircraft to their weekend-out home, I had my first "instrument" flight in the Osprey. I think it is a bit hilarious to call THIS my first flight on instruments because honestly, I have been doing that this whole time! Even with my massively vast experience of about 7 hours flying this thing, I am not quite able to feel exactly what the aircraft is doing by the usual way of sensing it just with my ears, eyes, and ass... so I spend a lot of time looking at the little TV screen with all the flight information on it to figure out what is going on. In a normal helicopter I can easily tell a 500 foot per minute decent just by the change in sound and slight change in pressure on my butt. In this 50,000lb beast, that seems to always be surprising me with new sounds and sensations, I can easily miss a 1500 foot per minute decent if I am not paying very good attention. So, like I said, I end up spending a lot of time looking at the instruments to figure out what in the hell this aircraft is doing with itself at any given time. The Hawk and I have been joking that there will be pretty much no difference between our previous flights and now flying on "instruments."
Regardless, this was the first time I have taken it up into the clouds. It is absolutely amazing how much easier it is to fly an aircraft that will trim. The H-1 and Mi-17 were fine to fly, but if you let your eyes wander off from the instruments in the weather, they would sneekily flip them selves over in about 15 seconds. Unlike those squirly in the weather machines, this V-22 thing does exactly what you tell it to and doesn't start doing what ever it wants just because you aren't watching it closely! You trim it exactly as you want it to fly... and it just stays doing that until you get back to it! AND THEN!!! you can even turn on the autopilot! Holy shit, you want a mind blowing experience... fly holding with an autopilot!
In helicopters, I have always considered holding to be an exercise in frying your brain like the anti-drug commercial. First of all, it is a helicopter so without using the big window it takes most of your concentration just to keep the thing upright, on altitude and speed. Then you have to figure out just from watching all the little shaking wiggling needles where you are, where you are going, which way to turn, all while adjusting for wind and timing your maneuvers with a little "push hard" clock that is probably on the wrong side of the cockpit from you. Eventually you do get good enough at it... but it is not really "fun."
(Aside) We all know that technically according to the FAA that you only have to keep the aircraft on the "maneuvering side" and how ever you do that is your business... but it also seems in every squadron there is an Evaluator Pilot that wants you to explain the "AIM -B" procedure (*note) for holding entry while you are trying to shack a fix to fix by closing one eye and looking at your pencil. I hate that guy!
Well, no more of all that silliness for me! I just put it in trim and push the button. (That last sentence should probably be taken out of context.) But seriously, it is one of the most unnatural feelings I have ever experienced in my life to take my hands off the controls of an aircraft... turn a knob... and have the aircraft execute a perfect level standard rate turn all by itself. The controls even move on their own! ...it doesn't even seem real. It would be like driving your car, but taking your hands off the wheel and peddles and having the car all on it's own take the freeway exit and come to a stop at the next intersection. WILD!
Well, after the flight, the civilian field where we landed had free beer for crews that brought their aircraft there. (Quite reasonably there were two Harriers, three US ARMY Hueys, and our two Ospreys) This is a good way to keep military aircrews coming back! Though the best place for this I have ever seen is a field in Houston that not only has beer, but also will order any food you want and employs models and former miss Texases to refuel the aircraft and work behind the desk. Anyways we had a few beers while waiting for the bus back to the base. We got back to the base to pick up our vehicles to go home, but it was a horrible thunderstorm. I looked at my motorcycle there in the rain, felt the buzz in my head and made the wise decision that instead of riding home on a motorcycle in a thunderstorm with a buzz, we should go to the O'club instead!
Wonderful idea!
It seems there had been some sort of formalish event going on in the club somewhere and now the formal type crowd had trickled into the bar. We ended up talking to the Base commander. Turns out he is an old Cobra pilot. Anyways, They had a karaoke thing going in the corner... and the base commander was encouraging people to go sing. After reading the selections available, I saw a song I liked and decided to sing it.
"The Ballad of Chasy Lane" by the Bloodhound Gang.
The pilot I had been flying with that day decided to come up there with me. Turns out I didn't remember the song as well as I thought. It wasn't that I didn't remember all the words or that we couldn't sing the song correctly... but I had forgotten quite what the words actually said.
So there was... up on stage with A+9 as my wingman. And bigger than a two story building, up on the screen comes the refrain:
My eyes glance over it... a cold chill goes through me as I realize what I am about to belt out into the microphone... Then I look out at the crowd of well dressed wives and senior officers.
You've had a lot of dick,
you've had a lot of dick,
I've had a lot of time,
I've had a lot of time,
You've had a lot of dick Chasy,
but you ain't had mine!
I had also forgot how much that song references eating out a pornstar's ass... Oops!
After that, one could say the ice was broken.
FOR REFERENCE PURPOSES ONLY
* The AIM -B otherwise known as the "Airman's Information Manuel procedure "B" method for holding entry" is the airborne equivalent of trying to do your taxes in your head while giving a impromptu speech in front of a crowd of accountants. If you just think about it, it makes sense, but when you start to do the math for it, it usually gets gummed up.
** You are on the tail of the number 2 needle!
***
"The Ballad Of Chasey Lain"
Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to explain
I'm your biggest fan
I just wanted to ask
Could I eat your ass?
Write back as soon as you can
You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain't had mine
Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to complain
Ya never wrote me back
How could I ever eat
Your ass when ya treat
Your biggest fan like that?
You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain't had mine
Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to constrain
This letter is my last
As your biggest fan
I must demand
You let me eat your ass
You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain't had mine
P.S.
Mom and Dad this is Chasey
Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show 'em them titties
Now show 'em them titties
P.S.
Mom and Dad this is Chasey
Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show 'em them titties
Now show 'em them tittïes
Would ya fuck me for blow?
Yesterday taking the aircraft to their weekend-out home, I had my first "instrument" flight in the Osprey. I think it is a bit hilarious to call THIS my first flight on instruments because honestly, I have been doing that this whole time! Even with my massively vast experience of about 7 hours flying this thing, I am not quite able to feel exactly what the aircraft is doing by the usual way of sensing it just with my ears, eyes, and ass... so I spend a lot of time looking at the little TV screen with all the flight information on it to figure out what is going on. In a normal helicopter I can easily tell a 500 foot per minute decent just by the change in sound and slight change in pressure on my butt. In this 50,000lb beast, that seems to always be surprising me with new sounds and sensations, I can easily miss a 1500 foot per minute decent if I am not paying very good attention. So, like I said, I end up spending a lot of time looking at the instruments to figure out what in the hell this aircraft is doing with itself at any given time. The Hawk and I have been joking that there will be pretty much no difference between our previous flights and now flying on "instruments."
Regardless, this was the first time I have taken it up into the clouds. It is absolutely amazing how much easier it is to fly an aircraft that will trim. The H-1 and Mi-17 were fine to fly, but if you let your eyes wander off from the instruments in the weather, they would sneekily flip them selves over in about 15 seconds. Unlike those squirly in the weather machines, this V-22 thing does exactly what you tell it to and doesn't start doing what ever it wants just because you aren't watching it closely! You trim it exactly as you want it to fly... and it just stays doing that until you get back to it! AND THEN!!! you can even turn on the autopilot! Holy shit, you want a mind blowing experience... fly holding with an autopilot!
In helicopters, I have always considered holding to be an exercise in frying your brain like the anti-drug commercial. First of all, it is a helicopter so without using the big window it takes most of your concentration just to keep the thing upright, on altitude and speed. Then you have to figure out just from watching all the little shaking wiggling needles where you are, where you are going, which way to turn, all while adjusting for wind and timing your maneuvers with a little "push hard" clock that is probably on the wrong side of the cockpit from you. Eventually you do get good enough at it... but it is not really "fun."
(Aside) We all know that technically according to the FAA that you only have to keep the aircraft on the "maneuvering side" and how ever you do that is your business... but it also seems in every squadron there is an Evaluator Pilot that wants you to explain the "AIM -B" procedure (*note) for holding entry while you are trying to shack a fix to fix by closing one eye and looking at your pencil. I hate that guy!
Well, no more of all that silliness for me! I just put it in trim and push the button. (That last sentence should probably be taken out of context.) But seriously, it is one of the most unnatural feelings I have ever experienced in my life to take my hands off the controls of an aircraft... turn a knob... and have the aircraft execute a perfect level standard rate turn all by itself. The controls even move on their own! ...it doesn't even seem real. It would be like driving your car, but taking your hands off the wheel and peddles and having the car all on it's own take the freeway exit and come to a stop at the next intersection. WILD!
Well, after the flight, the civilian field where we landed had free beer for crews that brought their aircraft there. (Quite reasonably there were two Harriers, three US ARMY Hueys, and our two Ospreys) This is a good way to keep military aircrews coming back! Though the best place for this I have ever seen is a field in Houston that not only has beer, but also will order any food you want and employs models and former miss Texases to refuel the aircraft and work behind the desk. Anyways we had a few beers while waiting for the bus back to the base. We got back to the base to pick up our vehicles to go home, but it was a horrible thunderstorm. I looked at my motorcycle there in the rain, felt the buzz in my head and made the wise decision that instead of riding home on a motorcycle in a thunderstorm with a buzz, we should go to the O'club instead!
Wonderful idea!
It seems there had been some sort of formalish event going on in the club somewhere and now the formal type crowd had trickled into the bar. We ended up talking to the Base commander. Turns out he is an old Cobra pilot. Anyways, They had a karaoke thing going in the corner... and the base commander was encouraging people to go sing. After reading the selections available, I saw a song I liked and decided to sing it.
"The Ballad of Chasy Lane" by the Bloodhound Gang.
The pilot I had been flying with that day decided to come up there with me. Turns out I didn't remember the song as well as I thought. It wasn't that I didn't remember all the words or that we couldn't sing the song correctly... but I had forgotten quite what the words actually said.
So there was... up on stage with A+9 as my wingman. And bigger than a two story building, up on the screen comes the refrain:
My eyes glance over it... a cold chill goes through me as I realize what I am about to belt out into the microphone... Then I look out at the crowd of well dressed wives and senior officers.
You've had a lot of dick,
you've had a lot of dick,
I've had a lot of time,
I've had a lot of time,
You've had a lot of dick Chasy,
but you ain't had mine!
I had also forgot how much that song references eating out a pornstar's ass... Oops!
After that, one could say the ice was broken.
FOR REFERENCE PURPOSES ONLY
* The AIM -B otherwise known as the "Airman's Information Manuel procedure "B" method for holding entry" is the airborne equivalent of trying to do your taxes in your head while giving a impromptu speech in front of a crowd of accountants. If you just think about it, it makes sense, but when you start to do the math for it, it usually gets gummed up.
** You are on the tail of the number 2 needle!
***
"The Ballad Of Chasey Lain"
Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to explain
I'm your biggest fan
I just wanted to ask
Could I eat your ass?
Write back as soon as you can
You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain't had mine
Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to complain
Ya never wrote me back
How could I ever eat
Your ass when ya treat
Your biggest fan like that?
You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain't had mine
Dear Chasey Lain
I wrote to constrain
This letter is my last
As your biggest fan
I must demand
You let me eat your ass
You've had a lotta dick
Had a lotta dick
I've had a lotta time
Had a lotta time
You've had a lotta dick Chasey
But you ain't had mine
P.S.
Mom and Dad this is Chasey
Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show 'em them titties
Now show 'em them titties
P.S.
Mom and Dad this is Chasey
Chasey this is my mom and dad
Now show 'em them titties
Now show 'em them tittïes
Would ya fuck me for blow?
