Oh, I haven’t given up yet, @chipwich. If I have to do a stop-motion image capture using slew I’ll get those pics!
I think the C-130s that they take in there can use some sort of ground radar setting on their wx set and the field operators can set up reflectors to allow the navigator to vector them to the field. And there have been cases where C-130s have just landed out on the wide expanse of snow due to 0/0 conditions. I’ll bet that is exciting!
Now that is DEFINITELY exciting…LOL… Could you not kill #1 and #2 using firewall cutoff switches and still fly on #3 and #4…or does it become impossible at that point?
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Arrived Roatan, Honduras (MHRO)…! This looks like my kind of place! But…I packed cold stuff…guess I’ll have to my parka, boxer shorts, and black socks with shower slippers…
Some low, scuddy clouds around…but I haven’t seen the tropical rain that is lurking out there yet…
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“So him and her huh?” I ask before taking a sip of my coffee.
“All night.” Tanker Jock answers slowly. “Like freaking rabbits.”
I just nod, then take another sip.
Tanker Jock and I are standing on the tarmac of Mataveri International watching Tanker Co-Pilot and Gibbo embrace as if the world itself were about to end. Me personally? I don’t consider the KC-135 preflighting to be such a cataclysmic event, but it does invite a sort of melancholy. The ANG crew won’t be following us to the Antarctic, instead ferrying us about 800 NM south west of here before breaking off for New Zealand, and then to Darwin for some exercise with the Aussies.
I clearly don’t have the investment our star crossed lovers do, but I will admit I’ve grown quite fond of our consort tanker crew. Even Tanker Jock has his charms, though I’d never admit it to his face. Speaking of whom, he steps off from beside me and strolls towards the tanker to break up the two romantics. I follow a few yards behind, pretending to be more interested in the steaming contents of my mug.
Jocko, with the subtly of an atom bomb informs Co-Pilot it’s time to start the jet, and makes for the door. I tell Gibbs it’s time for us to do the same, presenting the united front. I shake Co-Pilot’s hand and tell her she should look us up whenever she’s in Virginia Beach. I shake boom operator’s hand and implore him to stay awesome. Finally I shake Jock’s hand and tell him he’s not a half bad trash hauler, and hoped he’d stay safe. He responds I’m not bad for a hopped up squid fighter puke, and to not break my jet, again. They board the jet and begin lighting off the engines.
I’d say we departed on good terms.
Thirty minutes later, Gibbo and I are roasting uncomfortably in our “poopie” survival suits, waiting to start up the jet. Despite the assurances of the GE rep, I’m still apprehensive about the starboard engine.
However as promised, she lights and turns with no complaints. The jet is good to go.
A few minutes later we’re airborne, off to catch up to the tanker.
Some local hooligans have apparently filled in the southern caldera with golf course sand. What rascals.
An (almost) tropical sunrise.
Suddenly Clouds
We quickly rejoin with the tanker and begin our long trek south. The atmosphere is more reserved than our last leg. Gibbo and Co-Pilot are acting like sullen puppies, and Tanker Jock refuses to engage in any sort of board game (yeah, he still salty). Boom Operator and I engage in periodic stilted small talk, but no one’s mood is much in it.
Still clouds. I’d try and use music as a way to pass the time, but Gibbo, by being master of the radios, is master of the tunes. I don’t want to listen to Sarah McLaughlin for four hours.
We perform our last rejoin with the tanker crew, and I’m heartened to see Boom Operator produce a small stuffed penguin and place it on his window as he lowers the boom. I grin and give him a thumbs up. Also of note, our flight level would periodically have us passing between one or two layers of cirrus clouds. I’m reminded of the ending of Space Odyssey.
Our last rejoin complete, this is where we and the tanker part ways. I bring the Tomcat up alongside the KC-135, and look away to allow Co-Pilot and Gibbs their good byes. They exchange a brief, emotional adieu over the radio. I finally look over and offer the cockpit a stiff salute (a real one this time). The tanker banks to the left and disappears above the cloud layer. I swear I can feel the air leave the aft portion of the cockpit.
We are Alone.
“You going to pout the rest of the trip, dude?” I ask, about a hundred miles distant.
“You’re just jealous I didn’t spend the night alone.” He responds moodily. This, for the record is provably false. Boom Operator is a spectacular wing man, but I don’t want to kick a man while he’s down.
“If you’re gonna be like this, you might as well hit the Dido album, man” I say.
There’s a pregnant pause, then I hear the opening bars of White Flag. I’m simultaneously impressed he was able to call my bluff, glad this has defacto ended the argument, and annoyed I’m stuck with freaking Dido for the foreseeable future.
We don’t take pictures the next 800 miles, I figured I’d not bore you with more pictures of the many thousands of clouds we passed. Suffice to say I resolved the Dido situation with a magnificent(ly awful) rendition of Sand in my Shoes, and we were able to settle on a equally amenable regime of Synth-pop.
The action picks up about 250 NM from our destination, where we pick up our next tanker.
This one won’t be able to match the previous one in character or size, but we’re grateful for it all the same. I will say there’s something odd refueling from an aircraft smaller than you though.
Our F/A-18E shows us the way.
Home sweet home.
Weather below the cloud layer is atrocious, rapidly approaching abominable. Visibility is alright, there are vicious crosswinds with strong, unpredictable gusts and turbulence galore. I’m now mad I botched the one easy landing we had this trip with an engine failure.
I take vectors from the carrier to enter the groove as best I can, but the weather is tossing the Tomcat around like a play thing. This is not going to be fun or easy.
What looks like an okay approach is botched by a sudden crosswind. The LSO frantically waves me off and I gun the throttles to climb away. I can feel my heart racing a thousand miles a minute, and I’m furiously wondering why the carrier has not turned further into the wind.
A second attempt goes better, but the constant gusts and buffeting have conspired to once more make my AoA indicator useless. I’m unable to accurate judge my energy state, but I know I’m roughly in the ball park. I keep my speed below 135 knots, and focus on keeping the needles centered and alignment under control.
I’m frantically manhandling the controls to keep the jet on approach, but I can’t help but wonder that my nose is pointing at the island as I cross the ramp. I’m crabbing on a carrier landing. This is insane. I snag the 2 wire a few seconds later and my jet comes to a crashing halt. Crazy weather veining aside, the jet is perfectly fine, and I follow the instructions of the deck crew and taxi to the six pack.
As I shut down the jet, my hands shake with fury. I see, rather than feel the ship heel slightly as it turns into the wind to allow the F/A-18 that escorted me into land, adding to the insult of the completely unnecessarily dangerous landing I just had to perform. I feel like I am owed an explanation on what just endangered my jet and my crew.
I know I’m pretty far off the reservation on this flight, but demanding an explanation from a hugely senior officer immediately after telling him to go ■■■■ himself lies somewhere between “completely damning” and “Leavenworth” on the scale of choices for career longevity, regardless of situation. But still those landing conditions were stupidly dangerous, and for a jet that hasn’t done a carrier landing in a decade.
I’m still mulling over my decisions as I step off the flight deck onto the catwalk, and then once more through a hatch into the innards of the ship. Meeting my raged and rain soaked carcass is the a clean cut Commander. He introduces himself as the CO of VFA-154, and beckons me to follow him.
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@EinsteinEP Have you tried this guide? FSX (and P3D v1.x) Software and Hardware Guide | Kosta's Flight Simulation World
It fixed most of the glaring issues with default FSX and vastly increased performance for me. It is a bit of a hack and slash job when it comes to config files but then again, what is flightsimming if not that?!
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Coffee.
Coffee is love, coffee is life, as I sip the black sludge offered from this avian gods forsaken place in the middle of nowhere. GE called me out because some numpty with the desire to fly a F-14 to the Antarctic couldn’t bother opening the “Me and my first gasturbine engine” kit from Mattel™.
In the end, all I needed to do was step out, throw a clipboard in his face and find the nearest bar to get blackout drunk, because frankly, there’s not much else to do when send out on Aircraft On Ground(AOG) jobs. The Bill of Work(BOW) literally said that, I am not kidding. GE paid me good money to get on a dinky toy, buy a clipboard, attach a picture(let’s be honest, words are difficult for fighter jocks) and throw it in the first face I’d see. I did a complimentary inspection, given that a stamp and autograph was required, something something insurance.
Anyway, 24 hour benders are fantastic but my unfortunate “Party Jet 2016 vodka-train into 2017” is still stuck in Columbia. I’d doubt the scientist and shovels worry too much, I left the bar unlocked and made sure the supply delivery had a sufficient amount of potent potables included.
As luck would have it the swing wing monstrosity has left the vicinity of my visual cortex which pleases me to no end. Those things should have been scrapped decades ago but weirdo’s like those two insist on flying em… Yeah bothers me vigorously… Oh well.
I board the violently bright Airbus whilst slowly regretting the lack of water the night before. Oh well, that is the life of maintenance and company flights! I strap myself in before the engines roar to life, knowing the average pilot loves to break these things, and well. I am rather safe then sorry.
ring ring
What…? No way…
RING RING
Sure enough, Someone managed to kill the local flora and fauna with their turboprop and insists on a DC-3 maintenance crew to handle the fixer upper job. Sometimes I wonder of everyone but me is suicidal in this wicked world! Since when are DC-3 mechanics experts on gasturbine engines?!
After few layovers and 5 whiskey’s later I am in Mexico, or so I think. The DC-3 crew assists me in removing whatever remains of the birds and after a quick inspection we call it good enough. Managed to make a few bucks off it too! Who knew catering likes birdies?!
Then again, last I heard was something something Antarctic… Is this even real or am I mistaken in everyone gathering down south?! If so I expect a wreckage strewn runway amidst the white desert. Oh well, my trusty twinjet goes everywhere! I wave off whatever was flying this aircraft and focus on what’s really important, finding tequila!
But, not before I make a quick call to my contacts in Columbia and have them find every GE and PW part they can find and load it in the cargo hull. I’ve got a feeling there’s money to made, and when there’s money to be made in aviation it means vast quantities, obscene amounts. Dragon attracting amounts of money, capisce?!
Another few hours later I land in Columbia, soon to be greeted by my half-drunken rag tag band of scientists and assorted aircraft parts that have been stowed in every cranny they could find. Gotta say, I appreciate their efforts!
A few hours later and I’ve got my next leg figured out, this should give me a few hours to sober up for the landing.
TBC…
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LOL…that’s the way to do it!
I like how we’ve turned this into D&D/DW roleplaying game without a DM! 
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You succeed in your intention but there are negative consequences. Pick one:
- FSX continues to work for the duration of this flight but then fatally crashes your system
- FSX becomes unable to function after this
- ConcordeX dataleaks damage a vital file on your system causing you to lose 3 days of productive work.
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KPH-MMPR Leg in the books…It was a very tame flight, weather was perfect.
Climbing out of Phoenix:
Downing some coffee while we cruise over Mexico:
Descending into Puerto Vallarta Airport:
Aircraft shutdown, time to sample the local establishments!
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FSX.exe has stop…
FSXhastoppedworking.exe has stopp…
FSXhasstoppedworkinghastoppedworking.exe has stop…
FSXhasstoppedworkinghasstoppedworkinghasstoppedworking.exe has stopp…
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sip
Yep, that’s coffee alright.
A clunky noise is heard as I put my mug down on the center pedestal(That’s what MX things radiostacks are for Deal With It). It’s a slightly damp and foggy day in Cali, which combined with the lack of motion in the outside air makes for a very uncomfortable experience in the party-jet.
Not being a inhumane form of non-legitimized offspring I opt for kicking in the ground power and airco. Soon enough I’ve got the INS zipping to life as it desperate yearns for a location fix. Wich, in my grace and fortune decide to allow. I really am a man of the people.
Another switch here and there and air starts blowing through the starter valve’s. Add in a little fuel and ignition and you’ve got yourself a functioning gasturbine!
“It’s not bloody rocketscience”, I grumble to myself as I think back to that weird F-14 driver.
Plug in the numbers and the results will be good!
After coercing the local controller to let me take-off with all my extra goodies(customs made a fuss… bugger me with a fishfork…) and we are climbing away, that means PARTY TIMEEEE!
As my trusty crew of scientists settle in into the optimum vodka consumption position I settle myself in the comfy chair and enjoy mount whatever on the left.
The charts tell me it’s called Nevado Del Huila. I like my name better and briefly consider starting a petition for change. Surely my grace and goodness has made word reach far beyond the horizon?
Hmm, Altitude alerter set, INS set, once I hear the chime all I need to do is move throttle levers back with my foot a little. Not a bad way to sleep I’d say! Onwards trusty Metallic Steed of Enjoyment and Inebriation!
EDIT: Vanity shot
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Antarctic Stop 3: AT10 Fossil Bluff Skyway
Departing EGAR Rothera Research Station for the next stop on our tour, Alexander Island and the British Antarctic Survey station called Fossil Bluff…
A moment of panic seized the crew when we encountered the sudden end to the channel!? Google Maps did not represent the channel’s change of state. However, X-Plane (and OpenStreetMap) did. Not a problem since we were up here and it was down there, so we carry on…
A while later, we spy and overly our next goal, AT10…
The lack of ground references creates an abundance of puckerage for all who witness these “skyway” landings. But we get the 'tross stopped soon enough.
Besides the runway, this is all the visual reward that you get with this default X-Plane airport. Nevertheless, we leave an ammo can full of sweets for the blokes nearby to pickup at their leisure.
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Antarctic Stop 4: AT24 Sky Blu
Just as we left AT10, our first snowfall occurred so the de-icing systems got put to work…
Near an hour into the flight, X-Plane ran out of scenery (or more accurately, out of the scenery added by maps2xplane’s Antarctica Part 1 package)…
To which we all responded in unison: “We don’t need no stinkin’ scenery!”
Dropping down to sea level, we approach AT24 Sky Blu and its supposedly sturdy “blue ice” runway…
Touched down at the desired spot and all was going swell until yours truly pulled the throttles back for reverse-pitch …and nothing happened. The brakes and the twenty toes pressed upon their actuators did their best, but the ol’ Albatross wanted to get her feet wet…
A bit of WD-40 got the reverse-pitch issue resolved in no time. Another ammo can was deposited for the locals, and we were off again.
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I dont know which flight no. this is already, but I am going to explore the wast plains of desert now (like if every part of the FSX globe doesnt looks like desert) 
Leaving Port Said. Speeding up! (hint: it is obvious from the shape of the window 
)
SHIPS! Watching the traffic on the Sues Canal
Finally over desert. To be really honest this desert looks little bit different compared to the desert in Canada (not much )
This was long flight. But not long enough to fit into the plan again. This time I counted that the winds from N will help me. They did but anyway I had to change the final destination. But to be honest I really have no clue how to operate turbo prop engines, so I probably waste too much fuel running on wrong settings.
Sunset was nice.
Searching for some nice approach charts I came across nice site, IVAO - Sudan Division, with plenty of nice charts and quickviews.
Destination Sudan, after ILS approach to Khartoum HSSS. Nice live airport
“Its a long way to … Antarctica, its a long way to go…”
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- it’s never fun when the map doesn’t match what you see out the window…! (I’ve had that feeling in real life a time or two…LOL…)
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