Seattle’s Museum of Flight

Happy IPO Day to SpaceX, which its investors presumably hope will be the future of space travel. Via this post, we can also look at the past of space travel.

Most air and space museums, including the Smithsonian, are primarily about showing artifacts and make little attempt to educate visitors. Seattle’s Museum of Flight is a notable exception and, thus, could easily occupy a nerdy family for a day. Here are some snapshots from an early June 2026 visit.

The SR-71, the world’s fastest airplane and one that reached the edge of space (85,000′), with the world’s slowest, Gossamer Albatross II, ironically placed just above it (in real life, the Albatross II flew mostly at 5-15′ in order to take advantage of ground effect).

How did the SR-71’s engines, designed for slower aircraft, function? A sign explains:

Maintenance might not be simple…

Notice that there is an aircraft on top of the SR-71. This is thoroughly explained (also sadly, since Roy Torick was killed in testing for the D-21B drone):

How about the camera? The museum displays the 30-inch Itek lens:

The Museum avoids American chauvinism, pointing out that modern rocketry was developed independently in three countries and that, before Goddard, there was Konstantin Tsiolkovsky in Russia.

(There is a big section on the Apollo program and the role of Boeing, and companies later acquired by Boeing, building equipment for it, but the photos aren’t too exciting.)

The World War II exhibit gives reasonable space to allied and enemy aircraft, e.g., a Yakovlev and a Nakajima:

Equal space is accorded to female pilots who ferried aircraft over friendly skies and male pilots who flew in combat. Nancy Nordhoff Dunnam served in the U.S. between February 1944 and December 1944, most of which was spent in training. She lived until 2017. Richard Bong spent about two years in combat in the Pacific, shooting down 28 heavily armed Japanese planes, and died in 1945 while helping to bring the U.S. military into the jet age.

Were there any male pilots in WWII who did the same jobs as these heroic females, i.e., ferrying airplanes? ChatGPT:

In the U.S., aircraft ferrying was run mainly through the Army Air Forces Ferrying Command, later part of the Air Transport Command (ATC). Its Ferrying Division delivered newly built aircraft from factories to training bases and ports of embarkation. That system used AAF military pilots, civilian pilots, airline pilots, and women pilots including WAFS/WASP. The Air Force history page for the Twenty-Second Air Force says the Domestic Wing/Ferrying Division moved newly produced aircraft using “AAF pilots, civilian pilots, and women pilots” from the WAFS/WASP. The male civilian pilots came from several pools: airline pilots, commercial/private pilots, bush pilots, air-taxi pilots, crop dusters, business pilots, and pleasure pilots. … 27 male pilots per female pilot.

So… the gender that did 27/28ths of the work gets no credit in the museum. Congress and President Obama awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in 2009 to the civilian female pilots. Did the civilian male pilots who performed similar jobs get a similar honor? ChatGPT says “no”.

The Museum’s outdoor-but-covered exhibits include most of Boeing’s greatest hits, including the 747, an Air Force One 707, a 787, a B-17, and a B-29.

The 727 on display is accompanied by a D.B. Cooper sign:

There is a sobering Vietnam memorial, displaying a beautiful B-52 and also reminding us of the cost of war, nothing that we lost 10,000 aircraft in the war.

A notable omission from the plaques of names of men who were held as POWs: Robert L. Stirm. AP:

Stirm, a decorated pilot, was serving with the 333rd Tactical Fighter Squadron based in Thailand in 1967. During a bombing mission over North Vietnam that Oct. 27, his F-105 Thunderchief was hit and he was shot three times while parachuting. He was captured immediately upon landing.

He was held captive for 1,966 days in five different POW camps in Hanoi and North Vietnam, including the notorious “Hanoi Hilton,” known for torturing and starving its captives, primarily American pilots shot down during bombing raids. Its most famous prisoner was the late U.S. Sen. John McCain, who also was shot down in 1967.

Stirm became famous for this photo of his family welcoming him home:

As Wikipedia notes, however, the principal welcome that he received was being sued for divorce, under the nation’s then-new no-fault divorce laws, by the wife who’d been having sex with various new friends while the pilot was held prisoner. She obtained the house and car that he’d purchased, a child support revenue stream, and 43 percent of his military pension for her service on the home front (maybe her name should be on the wall as the person who made the greater sacrifice during the Vietnam War? A judge decided that fairness required that she receive the majority of the money that Robert L. Stirm was paid during his USAF career (only 43 percent of the pension, but she got 100 percent of his pay while he was a POW)).

Circling back to the interior, the museum shows a seemingly crazy rescue apparatus for pulling downed pilots out of the jungle (now “rainforest”) by helicopter:

What about compliance with the Washington State religion? Employees at the front desk are fully masked:

The museum costs $29 to enter or $3 if you’ve been wise enough to get an EBT card for SNAP or have any other evidence of being on “any form of government or public assistance”:

Anyone on what used to be called “welfare” can also get a family membership for $29 that includes an unlimited number of children and grandchildren for one year (normally $140).

As one turns away from the masked ticket agents (6+ years after coronapanic they haven’t been able to find a job that won’t expose them to tens of thousands of potentially infected humans every year?), the gift shop reminds visitors to “Celebrate Pride”:

The front desk near the outdoor section displays the sacred Rainbow Flag along with a U.S. Navy flag.

Although Seattle is an oasis of tolerance amidst a country full of haters, the Museum has had to set up a segregated “All Gender Restroom” separated from the main restrooms.

The gift shop also reminds us that aircraft are primarily designed, built, and flown by people who identify as “women”:

Let’s close by reminding ourselves just how much of the aviation industry was once controlled by Bill Boeing. The United Aircraft and Transport Corporation owned Boeing, Pratt, and United Airlines, among other companies, until it was broken up the U.S. government in 1934. It would be interesting to imagine an alternative history in which the vertically integrated company had stayed together. For one thing, founder Bill Boeing might have stayed in aviation instead of devoting his time to horses and racially restricted real estate development (Mr. Boeing agreed with future Harvard research that diversity makes a community worse, not better).

Finally, the 140 mph (supposedly!) Taylor Aerocar and the SR-71:

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Could autonomous electric aircraft make life in Southeast Alaska more attractive?

Americans have collectively decided, through our elected representatives, to boost U.S. population to Chinese/Indian levels, mostly via low-skill immigration:

Democrats now agree with Republicans, apparently, that cheap oil/gas is desirable and that Climate Change (TM) need no longer be fought by cutting CO2 emissions.

If the heat in the Lower 48 becomes unbearable and the seas inundate Boston, New York City, DC, Miami, and other major coastal cities, Alaska seems like a natural evacuation destination. There is plenty of high ground in mountainous Alaska and the weather is pleasantly cool all year along the coast. The all-time record high for Juneau is 90 degrees, set in July 1975, and the average daily high temp for Juneau in July is 63.

One critical problem with life in the low-density parts of SE Alaska is transportation. Today’s airplanes typically can’t fly in the 0/0 foggy conditions that often plague this part of the country. There isn’t a high enough population density to support frequent nonstop flights among the various towns, nearly all of which are cut off from any road network, e.g., due to being on islands. The fabled Alaska Marine Highway (see Chapter XII of Travels with Samantha) is expensive and infrequent, perhaps partly due to the Jones Act that requires them to use U.S.-built vessels and that prevents an Asian-run company from offering competitive service. Below, the Alaskan-built MV Hubbard (cost $60 million in pre-Biden dollars; a “dayboat” that holds 53 cars; launched 2019):

What about a machine that can fly itself the 40-80 nm. legs that are required to get around this part of the world and that can navigate safely around terrain via reference to GPS and a database? That’s the autonomous electric aircraft (vertical takeoff and landing isn’t necessary, actually, since nearly all of these places have high-quality airports/runways, but eVTOL would work). Could that encourage more Americans (and “New Americans”) to settle in this part of the U.S.? Want to see a friend or shop? That will be a 20-minute flight. Need to see a medical specialist? The regional hospital in Juneau can be reached easily and you’ll be home in time for dinner. Need to be evacuated to Seattle or Anchorage for specialized hospital care? That’s done with a 20-minute electric air ambulance ride followed by a jet flight.

We’ve already seen this trend to some extent with islands for the rich. Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket weren’t beyond peasant means until private jet ownership became common. A house near ACK had no value to a rich Texas family until the rich Texans got their Gulfstream and could fly directly to ACK rather than flying commercial to Boston and taking a piston-powered airplane or the road+ferry.

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Death of Spirit: a low-cost airline without the low costs (government should break up airport monopolies?)

Spirit is dead. I flew Spirit a few times and especially enjoyed their “Big Front Seat”. One flight out of FLL, I think, was delayed for hours due to a delay of the incoming plane on a perfect-weather day. Why can’t we have competition among airlines as they do in Europe and a wide range of low-cost carriers? First, Spirit was low cost to consumers, but it didn’t have low costs. Labor is the largest cost for an airline and Spirit’s union labor costs were similar to what the biggest airlines pay (ChatGPT):

ChatGPT on total cost for low-cost Ryanair vs. originally-low-cost JetBlue:

ChatGPT claims, incredibly, that Europe has more secondary airports:

I don’t think that this is correct, since the U.S. has tons of general aviation airports with long runways. Maybe the answer is that U.S. airports are monopolized, e.g., Massport owns both Logan Airport and Hanscom Field, the most obvious competitor for airline service to Boston. Massport isn’t going to undercut its own fees. A single port authority in NY/NJ owns LGA, JFK, EWR (Newark), TEB (the Teterboro airport for the Gulfstream crowd), and SWF (Stewart, too far from NYC unless a high-speed rail were built). There is more competition in Greater Los Angeles and the air carrier airports are owned by different agencies (LAX, LGB, BUR, SNA, and ONT are owned by their respective cities/counties).

Grok:

[in Europe] Many airports are privatized or compete aggressively for traffic, offering incentives to new carriers. US major airports have higher fees, complex slot controls (often grandfathered to legacies), and fewer viable low-cost alternatives near population centers. This raises barriers for new entrants or ultra-low-cost models

All publicly owned U.S. airports are paid for with federal tax dollars, e.g., from taxes on airline tickets, taxes on charters, and taxes on general aviation fuel (the one time that billionaires pay tax, according to Elizabeth Warren?). The Feds can’t seem to break up the airline oligopoly using antitrust laws and, in fact, may have contributed to our high-fare immiseration by blocking a JetBlue-Spirit merger (NYT: “JetBlue Airways and Spirit Airlines announced on Monday that they would not seek to overturn a court ruling that blocked their planned $3.8 billion merger. The decision is a big win for the Biden administration, which has sough to limit corporate consolidation.”; for the record, my first thought regarding the merger was that it shouldn’t be allowed because U.S. airlines were already far too concentrated). Maybe a good starting point would be to break up airport ownership. The five above-mentioned NY/NJ airports would have to be owned by separate competing government entities. Massport couldn’t own both Logan and Hanscom. Palm Beach County couldn’t own PBI/DJT and North County (F45; approved for a runway extension in 2024, but because the U.S. is incapable of working at Chinese speeds, construction isn’t even dreamed of before 2027). Miami-Dade County couldn’t own five airports (“Why do I own five airports? Because I couldn’t afford six.”).

Maybe robot 50-seater airliners would disrupt the market and enable some new carriers to thrive between city pairs in which a secondary airport isn’t owned by the same public agency that owns the main airport. But until “Big Airport” monopolies are broken up, it seems as though incumbent carriers could block most competition merely via a cozy relationship with each of the big airport authorities.

Meanwhile, let’s see how idiotic my investing advice has been. Back in 2010 I wrote “Unions and Airlines”, in which the take-away for investors is not to buy airline stocks because the unions will harvest any additional profits rather than the benefits flowing to investors.

Grok:

Airline stocks have significantly underperformed the S&P 500 since 2010 (roughly early 2010 through early May 2026, or ~16+ years). The S&P 500 (tracked via SPY total return, including dividends) delivered approximately +536% cumulative return, or roughly 12.0% annualized CAGR. In contrast, a broad airline index like the NYSE Arca Global Airline Index (^XAL) rose only about 70% on a price basis (from ~35.7 to ~60.5), equating to roughly 3.3% annualized price-only CAGR—and even adding typical dividends, the sector lagged dramatically behind the S&P 500’s total return (which compounded to roughly 7.8x your money). … Over a more recent ~10-year window (roughly 2015–2025), most major airline stocks delivered minimal gains or outright losses, while the broader market soared.

ChatGPT:

Since 2010, airline stocks have generally underperformed the S&P 500, despite some spectacular rebounds in individual years. … A cleaner “airlines as a sector” benchmark is JETS, the U.S. Global Jets ETF, but it only started in April 2015, so it cannot measure the full 2010 period. Its sponsor reports a 10-year annualized market-value return of only about 0.25% and a since-inception annualized return of about 0.38% as of March 31, 2026. That is dramatically worse than the S&P 500 over the same broad period. … If you cherry-picked Delta or United in 2010, you did pretty well, but still roughly trailed the S&P 500. If you bought airlines broadly, or bought Southwest, American, JetBlue, or JETS, you massively underperformed.

The investment story is consistent with the industry economics: airlines can have good earnings cycles, but shareholders have repeatedly been hit by fuel spikes, recessions, labor cost resets, aircraft shortages, fare wars, bankruptcies, pandemic shocks, and the need to constantly reinvest capital. As businesses, airlines can be necessary and sometimes profitable; as long-term compounders, they have mostly been inferior to owning the broad U.S. equity market.

Note “labor cost resets”!

Let’s close with a shout-out to Spirit for apparently having no serious accidents during its decades of operation, though one pilot may have died from toxic fumes, a known vulnerability with the Airbus. According to Wokipedia:

November 11, 2024 – Spirit Airlines Flight 951, an Airbus A320neo (registered as N966NK), was hit by multiple bullets on final approach into Port-au-Prince, Haiti after a flight from Fort Lauderdale, Florida. A flight attendant was grazed by a bullet and the flight diverted to Santiago de los Caballeros, Dominican Republic.

(This reminds us that (1) Haiti is a wonderful place and that only racism can explain Donald Trump’s negative attitude toward the nation, and (2) no migrant from Haiti can be sent back to Haiti due to the extreme risk of being killed.)

The last ACARS message:

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Hop a flight to Orlando or Tampa for Sun ‘n Fun this weekend!

If you don’t live in/near Florida, I recommend that you get a last-minute flight to Orlando or Tampa and then drive about one hour to Sun ‘n Fun in Lakeland.

I went on Tuesday, the first day. Here are a few photos.

P-51 Mustang and NASA’s Super Guppy:

Feel better about flying… the flight controls get disconnected and reconnected every time the plane is loaded or unloaded.

Placid Lassie is looking great despite her many trips to Europe for D-Day commemorations:

Today, it’s tough to imagine the sacrifices that Americans were willing to make to defeat Germany, which never had the same “Death to America” passion that Iran has maintained for 47 years. 2,501 U.S. soldiers died on D-Day and more than 3,000 French civilians were killed plus as many as 19,000 civilians killed in pre-invasion bombing.

Speaking of the Islamic Republic of Iran, here’s an unwelcome A-10 Warthog:

A lot of the most interesting planes are in the parking and camping areas. Here’s a 1947 Antonov biplane, for example:

And who doesn’t love a Grumman boat-hull seaplane?

Cirrus puts on a good display and has a couple of lounges and viewing areas for owners:

How they get people to move from the 200/210-hp SR20 to the 310-hp SR22:

I enjoyed talking to Dave Pascoe, the founder and operator of LiveATC.net. I learned that the service has a $5 app that makes using it much more convenient on mobile devices. Dave generously volunteers at Sun ‘n Fun Radio:

(Why doesn’t the FCC require that mobile phones have built-in FM radio reception at least, to keep communities together? Streaming radio over mobile data isn’t reliable. AM would be tough due to the antenna requirements, but maybe some RF genius could find a way?)

The secret Quiet Birdmen have a not-to-secret secret private club next to the radio station:

The high school at the airport still has a Coronapanic sign on a side door (see When will we feel safe enough to remove our coronapanic signs? (2024; the answer is “not before 2027”?)):

What if you’re irrational and choose to fly in? The NOTAM explains what to do. All of the waypoints seem to be in the Garmin 430 database (or maybe I entered them in during a previous trip?). I arrived mid-morning on the first day (Tuesday) and, therefore, the ATIS said to start at Fantasy of Flight rather than at Lake Parker. It’s somewhat unnerving to be 1 mile behind the plane in front and 1 mile in front of the plane in back, but it sort of works if everyone is precise about 100 knots and 1200′. It might have been smarter to file IFR and land on the big runway.

Not the best plane for flying the above procedure, but the under-wing graffiti is interesting. “N1972” makes sense for registration of this G650ER because that’s the year that Nike-brand shoes were introduced. I will give Nike credit for registering this to their own corporation instead of trying to hide it in a trust or LLC. In Stuart, Florida as I was preflighting the venerable Cirrus SR20-G2.

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Shout-out to Igor Sikorsky after the F-15 pilot/WSO rescue in Iran

Let’s have a shout-out for Igor Sikorsky, the pioneer in mass-production of helicopters, in honor of the recent successful rescue of an F-15 crew (pilot + WSO/”Wizzo” (also a competent pilot)) in Iran. Sikorsky’s perspective:

If a man is in need of rescue, an airplane can come in and throw flowers on him, and that’s just about all. But a direct lift aircraft could come in and save his life.

[later] For me, the greatest source of comfort and satisfaction is the fact that our helicopters have saved up to the present time (1969) over fifty thousand lives and still continue with their rescue missions. I consider this to be the most glorious page in the history of aviation.

I guess we should also thank the Soviet revolutionaries who drove Sikorsky, already a successful aircraft designer and industrialist, out of Russia and into Connecticut in 1919.

Finally, of course, let’s celebrate the tough-to-imagine bravery of U.S. military helicopter crews. Just in time for Easter, they enabled a man to rise from being presumed dead.

Who wants to place bets on the forthcoming Netflix movie? The helicopter door gunners will be female, Black, trans, gay, or all four?

Separately, foreign haters seem to concentrating on the cost of the mission. Here’s a white flag waver (Frenchman) showing photos of aircraft costing less than one day of tax revenue from NVIDIA employees and investors and implying that the cost of the rescue was too high:

From the Islamic Republic of Great Britain: “The MC-130J aircraft used to rescue the second US airmen cost more than $100 million (£77 million) each”

No mention of the fact that a Minnesota day care could burn through $100 million of tax money without ever having even a single child come through the front door.

Our brothers, sisters, and binary-resisters across the Atlantic seem to have some difficulty understanding the productivity of the U.S. economy. Separately, since hardly any of NATO members will let us use their airspace or bases (Germany and the UK are exceptions?) what is the value of continuing to spend U.S. tax money on NATO? We don’t have a dog in the Europe-Russia tension. If when we’re actually at war our European bases become useless due to airspace closures by purported allies, e.g., France, Spain, and Italy, what value does the U.S. get out of NATO?

Related:

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The LaGuardia airplane-fire truck crash

Friends have been asking how the LaGuardia airplane-fire truck crash could have happened.

Before reviewing any audio, my first guess was “Might be a controller error. Clear plane to land and someone else clears fire truck across runway.” That shouldn’t happen in general. Even if there are multiple Tower frequencies, there is typically one controller who is solely responsible for a given runway. Based on news reports thus far, it looks like my first guess was partially correct, but it was the same person who cleared a plane to land and a fire truck to cross. Here’s the airport diagram:

The crash apparently occurred at the intersection of Runway 4 and taxiway Delta (D), marked with a red oval below. The plane was moving in the direction of the red arrow.

Note that a jet doesn’t try to land right at the beginning of the runway, but rather 1000′ down the runway (out of 7002′ total here). Because of inertia due to weight and the slow-ish spool-up time of a big jet engine, it’s tough to adjust approach angle/position near the ground in the event the wind changes. If the airplane is going to come up a little short, therefore, the 1000′ marker target enables the short landing to still happen on the runway surface. The airplane would have been rolling/braking for perhaps only 1500-2000′ before the crash.

ABC has a timeline:

Based on an air traffic control recording, the truck had requested permission and had been cleared by the air traffic controller to cross Runway 4 at taxiway Delta. Shortly after, the air traffic controller tells the vehicle to stop several times right before the collision.

“Stop, Truck 1. Stop,” the transmission says. The controller can then be heard frantically diverting an incoming aircraft from landing.

Michael McCormick is the former vice president of the FAA and was once in charge of all of the airspace in the Tri-State.

He wants to know how many people were in the control tower, because initially it sounds like one person could have been doing the work of two people.

“What we’ve heard from that control tape, is it’s the same voice that is clearing the aircraft to land and clearing the vehicles across the runway and a normal tower scenario it would be ground control working the surface traffic and tower control just working arrivals and departures,” McCormick said.

Michael McCormick sounds much more qualified than I, but I think that he is incorrect regarding what’s conventional for Tower vs. Ground responsibility. In my experience, any vehicle or aircraft that wants to cross an active runway usually deals with Tower, i.e., the same person on the same frequency. This is substantially safer than two people issuing instructions on two frequencies because it gives pilots the chance to hear that a vehicle has been cleared across the runway that they were expecting to use and also concentrates control into one brain rather than requiring coordination among multiple brains.

It’s super sad to reflect on the deaths and injuries caused by what seems to be human error, especially since there was no need for the humans in the fire truck to be on their own. An AI in the fire truck could have been monitoring both Tower and Ground frequencies and also looking around at vehicles and aircraft on the field. The AI could easily have said “Don’t move! There’s a plane landing!” to the truck driver who’d been cleared across.

Has anything like this happened to me, you might ask? Yes. I won’t rat out the airport and controller, but I was holding short of a runway at a towered general aviation airport with a fair amount of flight school traffic. Tower cleared me for takeoff. I looked left and noticed a piston-powered airplane on short final and decided not to move into the runway. At a normal taxi speed, I think that the landing aircraft might have gone past by the time I was in the middle of the runway, but it was surely a controller mistake (at the point that I was cleared for takeoff nobody could have had any idea how long it would take for the landing airplane to clear the runway).

(For what it’s worth, our AI overlord (ChatGPT) says “Runway = Tower’s jurisdiction … No one—aircraft or vehicle—may enter or cross a runway without: … Explicit clearance from Tower” and that only rarely might a Ground controller relay a Tower controller’s clearance to cross a runway.)

Don’t take this post as a criticism of LaGuardia ATC. In my experience, New York controllers in all positions are some of the best in the U.S. I’ve talked to LaGuardia Tower while flying a helicopter around the East River and while flying a CRJ into and out of LGA. One really can’t get better humans and, therefore, improved safety will come only from improved systems, such as AI assistance in ground vehicles and, maybe, an AI assistant in the Tower.

One big question: why didn’t the fire truck personnel notice the CRJ’s insanely bright landing lights or get warned by the runway status lights that are supposed to prevent runway incursions even when a human makes a mistake? Pilots are trained to look both ways when entering a taxiway or runway so presumably the airport fire truck drivers are too. According to the FAA, there should have been a “stop” indication to the fire truck that the runway was in use (another easy thing for an AI to warn out: “STOP! Look at the red lights!”):

It will certainly be worth investigating whether this failsafe system was operating correctly at the time of the accident and also what kind of training fire truck drivers receive. For pilots in a two-pilot crew, the captain (left seat) is supposed to look and say “clear left” while the first officer (right seat) is supposed to look and say “clear right” before making a turn.

Related:

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An F/A-18 pilot comments on the F-15s shot down by Kuwaitis

A friend last seen in Top Gun slows down to 25 mph (across Florida by EV) and Overheard at Oshkosh (“I’ve met 120 of the 30 people who flew in the first Top Gun movie.”), regarding the three F-15s shot down by a Kuwaiti crew in an F/A-18. (Not in quote style for readability)

[in response to how could it have happened] A large percentage of our jet losses in that region have been friendly fire. In fact I think nearly all except during the gulf war.

Tons of reasons it happens from the shooter side. From the aircraft side often the defensive systems may be off, and you are focused on getting in to land/deconflict in the terminal area. You don’t assume your own team is going to light you up.

In the recent destroyer shooting down a U.S. jet. Another jet was targeted and was in mostly disbelief assuming the missile was going after something else. So even if your RWR went off you might just assume it is aimed at something else you don’t see. Since the ships are certainly interrogating air targets with their radars and might shoot SMs, hopefully with a clear lane, while there are friendly planes up still.

[in response to a discussion of why some of the F-15 pilots were injured] Momentum mostly

First the seat fires and in a two seat model the other person will say eject 3 times then pull. You hope in that brief moment you get into the proper ejection position (lower legs back, thighs on seat, back against seat, shoulders square, head neutral and back). If not, anything out of place is going to have a large amount of acceleration very quickly which causes injuries (eg broken femur from the seat accelerating first then hitting your leg that wasn’t on the seat).

Then all of those out of place
Items, arms included have major flail damage risk. If it’s a controlled ejection because of a mechanical issue you can minimize the speed and angle for ejection. In this case not so much most likely. So your arm that may have been hanging off to the side now has the momentum issue and maybe hit something on the way out, and then may be exposed to 300 knots or more wind suddenly.

People commonly get knocked out but wake up in the chute. The rest of the other injuries are mostly from the ejection, the flail injuries, or a bad parachute landing fall.

[in response to a question about how it was possible for the Kuwaits to misidentify three F-15s at fairly close range] Could happen but yea something seems off here.

May have felt panic that 3x mig-29 or whatever he thought it was, was also breathing down their neck. I assume this was also after missiles landed or maybe nearly landed so tensions were already high.

I think this falls in the category of don’t attribute to malice what can be contributed to incompetence. My guess is basic human error/training/skill.

But I also don’t know the details. I assume by now people know most of what needs to be known. Either way that pilot is riding the bench for a while.

Would be interesting to understand if they were declared hostile and if so by who[m!]. The hostile declaration and what the positive ID requirements were would be interesting to know. I assume details will come out.


Loosely related….

Very loosely related (aviation and war)…

The above related to CNN’s coverage of some anti-Islamophobia activists in Manhattan:

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The Army helicopter crash in DC revisited

As noted in Reagan National Airport Black Hawk-CRJ crash, the easiest way to have prevented the January 2025 crash would have been to implemented congestion pricing on the highways around DC so that officials didn’t need helicopter taxi service to avoid the traffic jams that have been caused by dramatic population growth induced by spectacular growth in government spending (plus open borders?).

“The Last Flight of PAT 25 Two Army helicopter pilots went on an ill-conceived training mission. Within two hours, 67 people were dead.” (New York Magazine):

Black Hawks are typically flown by two pilots. The pilot in command, or PIC, sits in the right-hand seat. Tonight, that role was filled by 39-year-old chief warrant officer Andrew Eaves. Warrant officers rank between enlisted personnel and commissioned officers; it’s the warrant officers who carry out the lion’s share of a unit’s operational flying. When not flying VIPs, Eaves served as a flight instructor and a check pilot, providing periodic evaluation of the skills of other pilots. A native of Mississippi, he had 968 hours of flight experience and was considered a solid pilot by others in the unit.

In terms of flying hours, Mr. Eaves was at the same stage as a civilian helicopter pilot beginning a second year working as an instruction in little Robinsons, mostly going in circles around a training airport.

His mission was to give a check ride to Captain Rebecca Lobach, the pilot sitting in the left-hand seat. Lobach was a staff officer, meaning that her main role in the battalion was managerial. Nevertheless, she was expected to maintain her pilot qualifications and, to do so, had to undergo a number of annual proficiency checks. Tonight’s three-hour flight was intended to get Lobach her annual sign-off for basic flying skills and for the use of night-vision goggles, or NVGs. To accommodate that, the flight was taking off an hour and 20 minutes after sunset. …

Night-vision goggles have a narrow field of view, just 40 degrees compared to the 200-degree range of normal vision, which makes it harder for pilots to maintain full situational awareness. They have to pay attention to obstacles and other aircraft outside the window, and they also have to keep track of what the gauges on the panel in front them are saying: how fast they’re going, for instance, and how high. There’s a lot to process, and time is of the essence when you’re zooming along at 120 mph while lower than the tops of nearby buildings. To help with situational awareness, Eaves and Lobach were accompanied by a crew chief, Staff Sergeant Ryan O’Hara, sitting in a seat just behind the cockpit, where he would be able to help keep an eye out for trouble.

Lobach, 28, had been a pilot for four years. She’d been an ROTC cadet at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, which she graduated from in 2019. Both her parents were doctors; she’d dreamed of a medical career but eventually realized that she couldn’t pursue one in the Army. According to her roommate, “She did not have a huge, massive passion” for aviation but chose it because it was the closest she could get to practicing medicine, under the circumstances. “She badly wanted to be a Black Hawk pilot because she wanted to be a medevac unit,” he told NTSB investigators. After she completed flight training at Fort Rucker, she was stationed at Fort Belvoir, where she joined the 12th Aviation Battalion and was put in charge of the oil-and-lubricants unit.

In addition to her official duties, Lobach served as a volunteer social liaison at the White House, where she regularly represented the Army at Medal of Honor ceremonies and state dinners. … She was planning to leave the service in 2027 and had already applied for medical school at Mount Sinai. Helicopter flying was not something she intended to pursue.

Though talented as a manager, she wasn’t much of a pilot. … One instructor described her skills as “well below average,” noting that she had “lots of difficulties in the aircraft.” Three years before, she’d failed the night-vision evaluation she was taking tonight. … It’s not uncommon for pilots to struggle during the early phase of their career. But Lobach’s development had been particularly slow. In her five years in the service, she had accumulated just 454 hours of flight time, and she wasn’t clocking more very quickly.

Captain Lobach had the same number of hours as a Big Tech engineer who flies recreationally for about three years and, based on the above, far less interest in becoming proficient. The small number of hours seems to be common within the Army:

Similar problems exist throughout Army aviation; the service has been having a hard time retaining its most experienced pilots and providing adequate flight time for those currently coming up through the ranks. Since 2011, the average number of hours flown per year by crewed Army aircraft has fallen from 302 to 198.

Here’s a confusing part. Maybe the issue was with the tail rotor rather than “a tail fin”?

As they passed over the Civil War battlefield of Thoroughfare Gap, an alarm called a master caution went off, indicating that a control system for a tail fin was malfunctioning. If the situation worsened and the surface became stuck, the helicopter could crash.

(This was unrelated to the crash as it happened an hour earlier and the system was “reset”.)

The conclusion of the article is bizarre. After writing about a person who wasn’t interested in aviation, the author concludes with a quote from the pilot-brother of one of the regional airline pilots who was killed by the Army crew’s incompetence:

He thinks that Lobach could have become a good pilot if they gave her another thousand hours of flying time. Instead, the Army withheld from her the training and flight time that she needed to fly safely and then required her to go fly anyway on a mission that was as ill-conceived as it was poorly executed.

The article is heartbreaking because there are thousands of superb civilian helicopter pilots who would have sacrificed almost anything to take Captain Lobach’s place behind the controls of a Blackhawk even without receiving her Army pay and benefits ($150,000/year if we include housing allowance and the actuarial value of the pension?). It’s understandable that the military is a bureaucracy, but after all of the selection hurdles how does it end up with pilots who don’t love to fly and live to fly?

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Challenger jet crash in Bangor, Maine

Friends have been asking me about the tragic Challenger N10KJ crash in Bangor, Maine on January 25 at 7:44 pm (NBC). I’m not type-rated for the Challenger 650, but I was trained on the Canadair Regional Jet, which is essentially a stretched version of the business jet.

The closest weather that I could find to the accident is the following:

METAR KBGR 260053Z 04009KT 3/4SM R15/6000VP6000FT -SN VV011 M17/M19 A3035 RMK AO2 PRESFR SLP286 P0002 T11671194

This is at 00:53Z on January 26th, but we subtract five hours for Eastern time so that puts us at 7:53 pm in Bangor.

The weather wasn’t terrible. Wind was from 040 true at 9 knots, which is roughly 56 degrees magnetic. Runway 33 has a magnetic heading of exactly 330 (airnav). So it was almost a perfect crosswind, which is unfavorable, but only 9 knots, which is easily handled even by a general aviation pilot in a slow piston airplane (where 9 knots is a larger fraction of the airspeed).

There was 3/4 miles of visibility or more than a mile down the runway (6000′). It was cold (minus 17C or 1F), which typically means that any snow will be dry and there wasn’t a lot of snow (“-SN” means “light snow”). There was roughly 1100′ of ceiling above the runway. To come back and land on the same runway 33 would require only 200′ of ceiling and 2400′ of visibility (the opposite direction runway required only 1800′; presumably due to superior lighting). (As a general rule, you don’t want to take off unless conditions will permit a return to the airport in the event of a problem, e.g., warning light (jet), or door pops open (old Cirrus). One can still do it with a “takeoff alternate”, i.e., a different reasonably nearby airport with either better weather or a better approach procedure, but that’s perhaps best left to the airlines.)

Part of the ILS 33 approach plate:

Decision altitude is at 363′ and the runway touchdown zone elevation is 163′ above sea level (that’s on a difference part of the chart; the “#363/24” at the bottom is what’s relevant (the # means “only when the lighting system is functional”)).

Jets work only if the aircraft is clean. The Challenger 650 is supposed to rotate at about 140 knots in icing conditions, but this plane was still on the ground at 152 knots:

At a distance of 1760 m past the threshold of runway 33, the aircraft veered right at a ground speed of 152 knots. The airplane flipped over and was partially consumed by a post crash fire.

What could have kept it from flying? Ice or snow on the wings that disrupts the smooth airflow necessary for generating design lift. How can one prevent the accumulation of dry snow? If starting from a cold hangar, the easiest way to be a hero is to do nothing. Dry snow won’t stick to a below-freezing surface so you taxi to the runway threshold, have your terrified junior co-pilot look out the side window to verify that the snow is blowing off during the takeoff roll, and abort the takeoff if the chicken in the right seat says “we don’t have a clean wing!” I actually did this once in a Piper Malibu out of KBED in Maskachusetts with my favorite gynecologist at the controls. We climbed through 20,000′ of clouds and dry snow and broke out on top of the clouds without ever having accumulated a speck of ice on the plane, just as my gynecologist had said we would. We landed about five hours later in Florida. A friend with a lot of round-the-world experience says that this is the preferred technique in Russia. ChatGPT says that you’d be an idiot to attempt it, but Grok says it is okay:

In extremely cold, dry snow conditions like those in the METAR (-17°C with light snow), the snow is typically non-adhering and powdery, meaning it won’t stick to a clean, cold-soaked aircraft surface. Many operators and pilots (including some Part 121 carriers) rely on this property, determining that light dry snow will blow off during the takeoff roll without needing de/anti-icing fluids. This is permissible under the clean aircraft concept (e.g., 14 CFR § 91.527, § 121.629, § 135.227), which prohibits takeoff only if frost, ice, or snow is adhering to critical surfaces—loose, blowing snow that doesn’t adhere does not violate it.

What if the snow isn’t dry, the airplane wing is warm from being in a heated hangar, the airplane wing is warm from above-freezing fuel being pumped in (truck recently filled from underground tanks), or the airplane wing has picked up ice in a descent from a previous leg? (the last two conditions might have applied to this plane because it had just come in from Houston and was making a refueling stop) In that case, the standard approach is to use Type I de-icing fluid to melt/wash the snow and ice off the plane and, if the snow is still falling, apply Type IV de-icing fluid to protect against any additional accumulation of precipitation. (What about Types II and III you may ask? The first rule of De-ice Club is not to ask about Types II and III.)

As the plane rolls down the runway, Type IV fluid magically shears off and leaves behind a perfect wing. This may happen at roughly 120-130 knots so it won’t work for a crummy piston airplane, but the airlines rely on it.

In order to facilitate fluid recycling, de-icing typically happens on a pad that isn’t right at the runway hold short line. How do the pilots know if the plane is still safe to use if they’ve spent some time taxiing from the de-icing location to the runway or, even worse, waiting for other aircraft to depart and land? They’ll have a holdover time table in the cockpit. Here’s an FAA example:

Notice that the holdover time for light snow is as little as 9 minutes in -17C temperatures and only 2 minutes if the snow is “moderate” rather than “light” (who can distinguish between these?). ChatGPT, no matter how hard it is pressed, always says “Type IV still makes sense despite its limitations [and] … is still immeasurably safer than guessing what will or won’t blow off”, but is able to explain how Type IV fluid can kill everyone:

The conclusion from our strict AI overlord:

But the problem with “Type IV within HOT” being “acceptable” is that the holdover time ranges are large and the pilots might get inaccurate information about whether there is “light” vs. “moderate” precipitation (or just guess wrong). Not only that, but the pilots sitting inside the plane can’t know, especially at night, how thorough the de-ice personnel are being with the Type I and Type IV fluids.

How many minutes elapsed between the Type IV fluid application and the takeoff?

The crew communicated with ground ops by radio requesting Type 1 & Type 4 de-ice & anti-ice fluid application. At 19:13 the aircraft taxied to the de-icing pad, where it remained from 19:17 to 19:36. It taxied to runway 33 and commenced the takeoff at 19:44.

The deicing seems to have taken about 20 minutes so we can perhaps guess that Type IV application was begun at 19:26 or 18 minutes prior to takeoff. That’s within the holdover time range from the above chart, 9-30 minutes, but longer than the “you might be in trouble shortest number” of 9 minutes. Bangor has an epic runway (11,440′) so things might have gone better during daylight hours. The pilot monitoring would have had a chance to see that the wing wasn’t clean at 130 knots, for example, and told the pilot flying to abort. They would have had plenty of runway available within which to stop. Perhaps the VIP passengers/owners, headed for France, insisted on lingering in Houston rather than getting out ahead of the storm. If they’d left Houston three hours earlier it wouldn’t have been snowing at all in Bangor:

METAR KBGR 252153Z 06005KT 10SM OVC050 M15/M26 A3045 RMK AO2 SLP319 PRESENT WX VCSH T11501256

I like to tell my advanced students “If you’re rich enough to own a jet then you’re rich enough to set your own schedule so that you’re never flying in airline-style weather.” (That said, one great way to become “unrich” is to own a jet…)

It’s too early to say whether icing/de-icing was the cause of the accident, of course. But as of right now it is tough to think of another way that a competent two-pilot crew could have wrecked the airplane. One sad thought is that the plane might have been flyable if the crew had rotated at a higher speed. If the investigation shows that the pilots rotated (pulled the jet off the runway) at the book speed and then, once out of ground effect, the plane wouldn’t fly, it will be sobering to reflect that the plane might have flown just fine if they’d waited for another 15 knots (the most critical surfaces on the plane, such as the leading edges of the wing, are de-iced with hot “bleed air” pulled from the engines’ compressors). With sufficient airspeed, even an inefficient wing will generate quite a bit of lift, which varies as a function of the airspeed squared.

From a friend who operates quite a few jets:

Everything I know about Challengers is that they are terrible in ice. It’s a supercritical wing and any trace contamination will be a huge problem. Unfortunately not all aircraft designs deal well with icing. Some aircraft are better than others and the Challenger 600 is probably the worst I can think of.

Unrelated to the physics and aerodynamics, but there seems to be a sad irony that the plane involved in this spectacular accident was owned by a personal injury law firm, i.e., folks who make their money from spectacular accidents. Arnold & Itkin:

Finally, the crash does show the merits of using big airports. The fire and rescue team reportedly reached the crash site within a minute or so. If you experience an in-flight issue and think that there is any chance of having an accident on landing, therefore, divert to the biggest air carrier airport that you can find and certainly reject any unattended nontowered airport.

Update: audio from various frequencies collected and subtitled. N10KJ crew didn’t hear the conversation between the two airline crews regarding the failure of the Type IV fluid and Allegiant’s decision to return to try de-icing again (about 10 minutes in). ATC moved their conversation to Tower and 10KJ was likely still on Ground. Get-there-itis is powerful, but perhaps hearing that Allegiant’s Type IV fluid had been overwhelmed by blowing snow would have resulted in a decision to abort or at least scrutinize the wings very carefully on the takeoff roll.

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Self-driving cars will make piston-powered aviation even more ridiculous?

It’s International Civil Aviation Day (an odd day to choose when you consider what else aviation accomplished on December 7…). Let’s look at whether self-driving cars will make piston-powered aviation even less defensible as a transportation tool.

Last month I embarked on a day trip to Orlando for Free Play Florida. It’s a 2:15 drive from our house, nearly all of which is on roads that GM Super Cruise or Ford BlueCruise could handle as well as, of course, any of Elon Musk’s creations.

Much to my surprise, I was able to do this 150-mile trip via Cirrus SR20 in only a little more time than it would have taken, door-to-door, by car. The Cirrus was more fun, I guess, and saved me from the monotony of staying in a lane on Florida’s Turnpike for two hours (the autopilot handled nearly all of the enroute flying). Let’s look at the cost. Driving:

  • 300 miles round-trip at IRS rate of 70 cents/mile = $210 (and that’s the marginal cost for someone who already owns a car; day trips aren’t for the working class anymore, thanks to the miracle of coronapanic shutdowns that made cars cost more than $50,000 and the open borders that keep their wages low)

Flying:

  • I drove 50 miles round trip to the airport so that’s $35 at IRS rates
  • Two hours of Hobbs time in the old Cirrus round-trip at flight school rates (which include fuel) is about $1,000.
  • Three $20 tips, one at each FBO encounter: $60 (not required, but I enjoy saying the no-longer-ironic “This will pay for half of your next Starbucks” and, also, I like to reward people who go to work every day in what has become a work-optional society)
  • Rental car in Kissimmee (KISM) plus gas = $130. (Would presumably have been cheaper at MCO, but the general aviation fees there are higher.)

Piston GA is thus slower and about 6X the cost ($1,225 total). It was more fun because I interacted with some nice people at both Stuart and Kissimmee (other pilots, line guys, front deskers, the Go Rentals gal). Tesla FSD users say that they find the fatigue level from monitoring the self-driving system is only about one third of what is when actually driving. So the trip could have been done via FSD at the same fatigue level as a 50-mile-each-way excursion. Also, most Americans love to consume alcohol. More or less everyone at the Columbia restaurant in Celebration (Disney’s New Urbanism community) was drinking sangria and I could have indulged in a glass if I hadn’t needed to fly back later that evening (Grok says that I could have three drinks before getting close to the legal limit, but I’m a lightweight so my practical limit is one drink).

(Maybe alcohol will ultimately be banned in Celebration, though? In a 15-minute walk around the lake I observed at least three burqa-clad Muslims and I don’t know why they’d want their kids to see women in halter tops drinking margaritas at outdoor tables. There are plenty of dry towns in Maskachusetts. It would be tougher to implement this in Florida according to Gemini because FL Section 562.45(2)(c) prevents a locality from stepping on the state’s regulatory toes.)

Separately, I want to give a small shout-out to Signature (formerly “The Evil Empire”) for mostly keeping piston GA alive by waiving nearly all fees with the purchase of a minimal amount of 100LL at nearly all of its locations (not KTEB!). It’s an unwelcome economic event, I’m sure, when a piston aircraft shows up but Signature does a good job of hiding its disappointment.

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