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Old 27-02-2016, 22:33   #1   link
Teus
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over vliegerkes en straaljagers

Dit voorjaar ga ik weer naar de usa. National USAF museum is binnen doenbare afstand...

The National Museum of the United States Air Force (formerly the United States Air Force Museum) is the official museum of the United States Air Force located at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, 6 miles (9.7 km) northeast of Dayton, Ohio.[2] The NMUSAF has one of the world's largest collections with more than 360 aircraft and missiles on display.[1] The museum draws over 1.3 million visitors each year making it one of the most frequently visited tourist attractions in Ohio

wat er almal staat dat ik echt wil zien

Fairchild Republic A-10A Thunderbolt II
Northrop B-2 Spirit
McDonnell Douglas RF-4C Phantom II
F-4D Phantom II Sit-in Cockpit
McDonnell Douglas F-4G Wild Weasel
McDonnell Douglas F-15A Eagle
General Dynamics F-16A Fighting Falcon
F-16 Sit-in Cockpit
Lockheed F-104C Starfighter
General Dynamics F-111F Aardvark
Lockheed F-117A Nighthawk
Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-19S
Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-29A
Lockheed SR-71A
North American XB-70A Valkyrie

McDonnell Douglas F-4C Phantom II
General Dynamics F-111A Aardvark
Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-17F
Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21PF
Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress
Messerschmitt Bf 109G-10
Messerschmitt Me 163B Komet
Messerschmitt Me 262A Schwalbe
Mitsubishi A6M2 Zero
Supermarine Spitfire Mk. Vc
Supermarine Spitfire PR.XI

leutige accesoires te bezichtigen, een ganse hoop nukes, een Avenger gatling gun, kruisraketten, NASA gerief
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Old 28-02-2016, 10:33   #2   link
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Zou ik anders ook wel eens graag bezoeken. Update maar met foto's wanneer je geweest bent. Cool beans!
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Maat van mij is zo eens naar de psycholoog gegaan, verdict: "gij mankeert niks, gij wilt gewoon per se speciaal zijn". Beste psycholoog ooit.
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Old 28-02-2016, 12:01   #3   link
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Gisteren in Toulouse ook zo een museum bezocht, wel cool.
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Old 28-02-2016, 12:14   #4   link
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Zou ik anders ook wel eens graag bezoeken. Update maar met foto's wanneer je geweest bent. Cool beans!
cava
vorige keer geweest bij kalamazoo (air zoo) in michigan. hadden ook een SR-71, en F14, F18 en een hoop ruimtevaart dingen

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Last edited by Mr. Santa; 28-02-2016 at 20:28.
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Old 28-02-2016, 14:00   #5   link
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more like
SONIC BOOM

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Old 28-02-2016, 14:15   #6   link
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dure aansteker wanneer die stil staan







Average human pain threshold. 110dB
Military jet aircraft take-off from aircraft carrier with afterburner at 50 ft, 130 dB
Jet take-off (at 25 meters) 150dB Eardrum rupture
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Last edited by Teus; 28-02-2016 at 14:22.
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Old 28-02-2016, 19:04   #7   link
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Average human pain threshold. 110dB
Military jet aircraft take-off from aircraft carrier with afterburner at 50 ft, 130 dB
Jet take-off (at 25 meters) 150dB Eardrum rupture
Tgros van de clubs in belgië speelt tussen de 110 en 120dB dus die pain treshold lijkt me wel wat overdreven.
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Old 28-02-2016, 19:08   #8   link
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Tgros van de clubs in belgië speelt tussen de 110 en 120dB dus die pain treshold lijkt me wel wat overdreven.
Nah..
Bij ons is 't 100db over de hele avond. Af en toe misschien uitschieters van 103db of zo en dat is significant luider dan bv 100db.

110db en zeker 120db is écht luid.

Ik steek bij 85db mijn oordoppen in..
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Old 28-02-2016, 19:33   #9   link
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fars

1. Türk Telekom Arena – Galatasaray
Het is geen grote verrassing dat de gehele top drie gevormd wordt door Turkse fans. Het stadion van Galatasaray houdt het record van luidruchtigste fans, die maar liefst 131 decibel wisten te produceren. Het stadion wordt weleens omschreven als een heksenketel.

Lees verder: http://www.soccernews.nl/news/280451...#ixzz41UcmzQQH
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Old 28-02-2016, 19:38   #10   link
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Originally Posted by Blowiieh. View Post
Nah..
Bij ons is 't 100db over de hele avond. Af en toe misschien uitschieters van 103db of zo en dat is significant luider dan bv 100db.

110db en zeker 120db is écht luid.

Ik steek bij 85db mijn oordoppen in..
Het is zeker luid, te luid ook, normaal gezien mag een club niet boven de 110 spelen maar tijdens controle toen zijn er maar weinigen die zich er aan hielden. Ik wil maar zeggen dat het woord 'pijngrens' me overdreven lijkt.
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Old 29-02-2016, 10:51   #11   link
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Het is zeker luid, te luid ook, normaal gezien mag een club niet boven de 110 spelen maar tijdens controle toen zijn er maar weinigen die zich er aan hielden. Ik wil maar zeggen dat het woord 'pijngrens' me overdreven lijkt.

Club heeft nationaal record van 127 decibel Doet er mij aan denken dat ik oordopjes moet halen voor de volgende match. Nogal last van mijn rechteroor de laatste tijd
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Old 29-02-2016, 12:47   #12   link
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vrrrrrrrrrrrrroem bbbrrroeeeeeem piew piew piew
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Old 29-02-2016, 14:16   #13   link
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docu over de opleiding van F/18 piloten staat op youtube te bekijken:
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?lis...bFzrDbf4s9f8SJ
erg genietbaar. belachelijk hoge eisen voor piloten trouwens. twee keer een nieuwe oefening mislukken en je ligt zo goed als buiten.

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Old 09-03-2016, 18:49   #14   link
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Commercial pilot Tim Morgan thinks you can pull it off, and has created the above video showing how to land the aircraft in the unlikely event that both the pilot and copilot are incapacitated.

"The good news is the plane will probably have a sophisticated autopilot that can take care of most of the flying for you," he wrote in an answer on Quora. "The bad news is you will still probably have to land it, and every aircraft cockpit is going to be different, so it's not like you'd know exactly where to look to find the things you need."

In the clip, Morgan talks the passenger through the various controls of a 737, including -- most importantly -- how to radio for help and follow the instructions to safely land the aircraft.

While there are no cases of a passenger with zero flying experience landing a large commercial aircraft, a 2007 episode of "MythBusters" looked into whether or not it could be done successfully. Using a simulator, the hosts crashed when trying to land the plane by just guessing, but were able to touch down successfully when a licensed pilot instructed them over the radio.

As a result, they called it "plausible."

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Old 09-03-2016, 18:51   #15   link
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en nog wat legendarische SR-71 copypasta

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One of the most legendary stories related to the SR-71 Blackbird has nothing to do with how fast or how high it could fly. Quite the opposite really, it has to do with how slow and low it flew, somewhat accidentally, the results of which was probably one of the most spectacular visual and audible moments in aviation history to behold.

The story comes from retired U.S. Air Force Maj. Brian Shul, and it was posted by our friends over at Sierra Hotel Aeronautics who generously allowed us to share it here. Here’s Shul on the Blackbird’s speed:

“As a former SR-71 pilot, and a professional keynote speaker, the question I’m most often asked is ‘How fast would that SR-71 fly?’ I can be assured of hearing that question several times at any event I attend. It’s an interesting question, given the aircraft’s proclivity for speed, but there really isn’t one number to give, as the jet would always give you a little more speed if you wanted it to. It was common to see 35 miles a minute.

Because we flew a programmed Mach number on most missions, and never wanted to harm the plane in any way, we never let it run out to any limits of temperature or speed.. Thus, each SR-71 pilot had his own individual ‘high’ speed that he saw at some point on some mission. I saw mine over Libya when Khadafy fired two missiles my way, and max power was in order. Let’s just say that the plane truly loved speed and effortlessly took us to Mach numbers we hadn’t previously seen.

So it was with great surprise, when at the end of one of my presentations, someone asked, ‘What was the slowest you ever flew the Blackbird?’ This was a first. After giving it some thought, I was reminded of a story that I had never shared before, and I relayed the following.

I was flying the SR-71 out of RAF Mildenhall, England, with my back-seater, Walt Watson; we were returning from a mission over Europe and the Iron Curtain when we received a radio transmission from home base. As we scooted across Denmark in three minutes, we learned that a small RAF base in the English countryside had requested an SR-71 fly-past. The air cadet commander there was a former Blackbird pilot, and thought it would be a motivating moment for the young lads to see the mighty SR-71 perform a low approach. No problem, we were happy to do it. After a quick aerial refuelling over the North Sea, we proceeded to find the small airfield.

Walter had a myriad of sophisticated navigation equipment in the back seat, and began to vector me toward the field. Descending to subsonic speeds, we found ourselves over a densely wooded area in a slight haze. Like most former WWII British airfields, the one we were looking for had a small tower and little surrounding infrastructure. Walter told me we were close and that I should be able to see the field, but I saw nothing. Nothing but trees as far as I could see in the haze. We got a little lower, and I pulled the throttles back from 325 knots we were at. With the gear up, anything under 275 was just uncomfortable. Walt said we were practically over the field-yet; there was nothing in my windscreen. I banked the jet and started a gentle circling maneuver in hopes of picking up anything that looked like a field. Meanwhile, below, the cadet commander had taken the cadets up on the catwalk of the tower in order to get a prime view of the fly-past. It was a quiet, still day with no wind and partial gray overcast. Walter continued to give me indications that the field should be below us but in the overcast and haze, I couldn’t see it. The longer we continued to peer out the window and circle, the slower we got. With our power back, the awaiting cadets heard nothing. I must have had good instructors in my flying career, as something told me I better cross-check the gauges. As I noticed the airspeed indicator slide below 160 knots, my heart stopped and my adrenalin-filled left hand pushed two throttles full forward. At this point we weren’t really flying, but were falling in a slight bank. Just at the moment that both afterburners lit with a thunderous roar of flame (and what a joyous feeling that was) the aircraft fell into full view of the shocked observers on the tower. Shattering the still quiet of that morning, they now had 107 feet of fire-breathing titanium in their face as the plane levelled and accelerated, in full burner, on the tower side of the infield, closer than expected, maintaining what could only be described as some sort of ultimate knife-edge pass.

Quickly reaching the field boundary, we proceeded back to Mildenhall without incident. We didn’t say a word for those next 14 minutes. After landing, our commander greeted us, and we were both certain he was reaching for our wings. Instead, he heartily shook our hands and said the commander had told him it was the greatest SR-71 fly-past he had ever seen, especially how we had surprised them with such a precise maneuver that could only be described as breathtaking. He said that some of the cadet’s hats were blown off and the sight of the plan form of the plane in full afterburner dropping right in front of them was unbelievable. Walt and I both understood the concept of ‘breathtaking’ very well that morning and sheepishly replied that they were just excited to see our low approach.

As we retired to the equipment room to change from space suits to flight suits, we just sat there-we hadn’t spoken a word since ‘the pass.’ Finally, Walter looked at me and said, ‘One hundred fifty-six knots. What did you see?’ Trying to find my voice, I stammered, ‘One hundred fifty-two.’ We sat in silence for a moment. Then Walt said, ‘Don’t ever do that to me again!’ And I never did.

A year later, Walter and I were having lunch in the Mildenhall Officer’s club, and overheard an officer talking to some cadets about an SR-71 fly-past that he had seen one day. Of course, by now the story included kids falling off the tower and screaming as the heat of the jet singed their eyebrows. Noticing our HABU patches, as we stood there with lunch trays in our hands, he asked us to verify to the cadets that such a thing had occurred. Walt just shook his head and said, ‘It was probably just a routine low approach; they’re pretty impressive in that plane.’

Impressive indeed.”

Thanks again to Sierra Hotel Aeronautics. They make some of the coolest aviation related apparel and gear out there. Check out their Facebook page as well for cool aviation history related content.
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I don't know of any ludicrous speeding tickets so I can't participate in today's QOTD, but it did remind me of my favorite SR-71 story.

This is an expanded excerpt from Brian Schul's book Sled Driver : Flying the World's Fastest Jet. (which happens to be out of print and ludicrously expensive now, I wish I had bought a copy when I could have afforded it).


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 " Houston Center voice." 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 Houston controllers, 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. "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 replay 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 Houston Center voice, 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.
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Old 10-03-2016, 22:29   #16   link
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Laatste 737s kunnen ook autolanden trouwens:
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Old 10-03-2016, 23:16   #17   link
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en nog wat legendarische SR-71 copypasta
Sled Driver, knappe boek, kan je vinden als pdf of zo, aanrader!
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Old 11-03-2016, 12:48   #18   link
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Dit is ook amusany:
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Old 19-04-2016, 12:06   #19   link
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https://vimeo.com/162088181

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What you’re seeing is the work of action adventure cameraman Peter Degerfeldt running a Red Dragon 6K camera with a Canon 30-300m lens; selected for its “short snout.”

The proportions were important because the camera would be mounted on a five-axis gyro attached to another jet where a missile might normally be. A longer lens would be harder to balance and every millimeter counts at 300 knots and 2.5 g’s.

Degerfeldt watched what the camera was looking at remotely from the back seat of the coolest camera car ever: another fighter jet. The setup would have cost as much as a nice new Mercedes, before you add the camera-coddling gyro (called a “gimbal” in filmspeak) to the bill.

Blue Sky Aerial, the outfit Degerfeldt works for which created this video, says air-vehicle mounted gyros have previously only been used on helicopters at speeds of up to 135 knots. That’s still quick at 155 MPH in relative groundspeed, but the absolutely breathtaking visuals you’re watching here were recorded at about double that pace.

The next evolution of the Saab Gripen is supposed to offer air forces a balance between “power, flexibility, efficiency” and be something of an all-purposes airborne peacekeeper.
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Old 19-04-2016, 12:57   #20   link
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Dat is toch niets in vergelijking met eurovision?

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