I’ve got a jet to ferry from Point Mugu to Fallon and a cuppla flights on Friday. The last time I drove up there the logistics were daunting: Left the car on base, flew back to LAX from Reno, rented a one-way up to Ventura County, drove the car back down to Sandy Eggo. I don’t much care for the notion of going the wrong way when I’m going home. So today I’ll try the Coaster from here to Oceanside and jump a ride from there to Camarillo on AMTRAK. That way when it’s time to come home, my lovely bride may even pick me up at the airport, so long as I’m properly courteous and respectful.
In the interim, Max Damage sends along this video of Jack “Fingers” Ensch and “Mugs” McKeown having a frustrating day over North Vietnam, something old. The Phantom bubbas were wholly outclassed in a turning fight with the lighter and more nimbler MiG series, so they most of them learned some class of “magic move” as a last ditch when the BBs started flying over their canopies. Some of that “magic move” stuff was still being preached when I first started flying fighters, but I’d like to think we do things a little more scientifically these days. That’s no class of criticism – it was either that or go for a walk with a MiG camped out in your six – but you could never tell just which way you’d end up pointing once you’d flung the jet into a departure all regardless.
And Hogday sings a song to a warrior prince, something new. There’s an heir and a spare, and it looks like the spare is making a good account of himself.
With that as an into, the keys are in it.