andyjohnston

Coming in for a landing today in Uranium City, there's something wrong with the aircraft. As I'm extending the flaps, I'm losing control. From the exterior, you can see why. No flaps on the right. So I lined up for the runway. Nope, not going to work. Better go around. Coming around again, there's a second problem Look at the gear indicator lights, they show both red and green. I believe there's an issue in the sim that causes that sometimes, but it means I will have no thrust reversers and no steering once I'm down. Managed a landing, but rolled off the edge of the runway.

I've done this mission but haven't had this issue. Losing altitude to quickly will of course cause our airspeed to increase, which means you have to bleed it off. Just a guess.

Well, technically it's the P3D version ;)

I have certain aircraft I like to fly, this is one I've been using a lot lately. It would cost me a lot more than $3 million...

Probably not part of the issue, but the ILS will not work if you are set to GPS mode. You do set to Nav first, right?

Western edge of Lake Geneva

Just flew over as I headed to Geneva, then came back in something more appropriate.

Just outside of Geneva. Look down.

Good day to everyone. I have a question about the proper procedure that would be used to brake an aircraft such as a 737 / 747. The way I normally do it is to land with full flaps, deploy the spoilers and thrust reversers and stay like that until slowing to 60 knots, then setting the throttle to idle and using the wheel brakes. Unless, of course, the runway is too short, in which case I may brake harder. Is this at all like what a real pilot would do? I can't imagine they just stomp of the brakes as soon as they touch down. Interested in knowing, if anyone happens to have that knowledge.

In default Fsx, one of the missions is to land a Lear at Telluride.

I opened my eyes again to find myself strapped to a makeshift cot in the carrier's medical office. "Well, well," came a voice. "Look who has decided to rejoin the land of the living." At first I said nothing, then I jolted. "Wait, what happened? I need to know!" "Rest." The medic came into view for the first time. "Please tell me," I said. "I need to know." "Sure." The medic spoke slowly as he reached above my head and adjusted something. "What happened was..." I couldn't fight it, my eyes closed again. When I woke, I was in a plane, next to a window that overlooked the right wing. I've said before that if you're flying but not as the pilot in command, it's pretty boring, but at that moment I was glad someone else was in charge. I have a very vague memory of being helped off the plane and into a cab, which took me home to sleep a few more days. It was on my first day back up that I happened to log into my bank. I could see they'd paid me. One dollar, minus the tax. Which totally reminds me of the time...no, I told you about that already. Well there was also...well, that's another story.

In the black of night, all I had to go by were the faint lights of other aircraft. We climbed out, then circled the carrier for a while, as others planes joined us. Then we settled into formation as we headed across the water. Within minutes, I saw the navigation lights marking the locations of the other aircraft disappear, and we were completely running in the dark. We stayed that way for a little while before I felt out attitude change. I couldn't see anything, but my gut told me we had rolled upside down and the pilot was pulling back. With a hiss, I saw a missile fire from under the wing to my right, just in time for me to groan as well rolled upright again. I could see missiles firing from the other planes as well, and the faint glow that came from below told me they were hitting something, though I couldn't see what. Then, with a noise that was almost deafening, I was thrown forward against my restraints. I was glad to have them or else my face would've hit the rear of the seat in front of me. I could hear the pilot swearing into his mic, followed by words I didn't want to hear. "I'm hit, I'm breaking off." With that, the plane turned jerkily to the right and before long the scene of the attack was behind me. The pilot talked back and forth to the crew of the carrier with terms I didn't really understand and he descended, until he finally announced he had the ball. "Get ready back there," he said. "This is going to be rough." I had already felt what it was like when a craft landed on the deck, so I figured I knew what I was in for. I was wrong. With a bone-jarring thud, and the sound of metal on metal, we hit the deck and careened along. I did my best to remain calm, then everything went dark.

P3Dv4 with Dr Zeiwicki Washington Demo scenery.

No, almost all of what I have is default, including KSFO where I can follow the ILS right to the runway. Odd how it appears so different for two people.

That's very clearly not default scenery. Interesting though how it is different for different people. I'm using P3Dv4, though I doubt that makes a difference.

Default scenery. Not on the field, just off it. I was following the ILS to 26 but if I had continued I would have hit a building. Had to turn the AP off to go over it.

Thought I'd try the same, so I flew to Flagstaff from where I was using and aircraft which could make the trip. So I got there in a 747. Flagstaff is at 7000 feet with a 7000 foot runway. There's no way I could land there in a 747! So I diverted to Phoenix. Just as I was coming in to runway 26, there's a huge autogen building right off the threshold. Who put that there!

Not sure what scenery you have, I fly into KSFO all the time landing on runways 28L and 28R. The ILSs set me up perfect every time, I just have to flare.

I've flown (virtually of course) into Lake Co countless times. Challenge yourself a little more by going from there to Telluride (KTEX) or vise-versa.

If I had to choose two words to describe the situation I found myself in, they would be "utter disdain." That's pretty much how I was treated by the crew of the carrier, as an interloper who didn't belong. My life on the carrier was pretty dull. I had a bunk, one of six crammed into a space not much bigger than a closet, stacked three to a side. Mine was the lowest on the left, with nothing but a pale blue curtain for privacy. I spent most of my time there, or in the ship's mess. Once you're on the carrier, you judge the time of day entirely by your watch. There are no windows, you have no idea if it's really day or night, or what the weather might be. The only people who are afforded such privilege are the crew who work on the flight deck. I had heard that there were a couple of other people who were used for various tasks while we were still on land, most of them had chosen to take the opportunity to escape when it was given to them; I should have done the same. Through the grapevine, I got the information that there were one or two other civilians on board, but I was never able to meet with them. And so it was one evening when a foot kicked at my curtain. "On your feet," came a voice. I did as I was told and rolled out of the bunk before doing my best to stand up. The crewman who stood before me looked up and down before shaking his head and motioning for me to follow. He led me through the cramped bulkheads, up and down various sets of metal staircases which sent the sounds of our footfalls echoing into the above. Finally, we arrived at a deck filled with various aircraft, where I was handed over. I donned a flight suit, and was led to an aircraft that looked a lot like the one I'd flown in on, though whether it was the same one I had no idea. Once seated in the back, I didn't have to wait long before we were moving, and an elevator lifted us to the flight deck above. It was dark, the sky was black other than the lights from a few other planes. We rolled forward and I saw the deck crew going about their duties around us. Then one of them stood to our three o'clock, giving hand signals to the pilot. I considered waving my hands around randomly back at him, then thought better of it. The engines behind me roared, and then the catapult fired. We were airborne in seconds.

I'd read every advertisement, I'd read the obituaries, I'd read every article in that newspaper, most of them twice. Finally, with an ominous creak, the door opened. In stepped a rather tall and balding soldier along with Mary. He reached over and grabbed me, pulling me to my feet. Mary immediately jumped between us and pushed him away. She took me to a corner and spoke barely above a whisper. "You've helped us out a lot here. We're into the endgame, and I'm giving you a choice. You can go back to flying puddle jumpers, or you can see how it ends. I warn you, it's all or nothing. If you're in, you're in. I can't guarantee your safety." I nodded. It took me a few second to think it over. "I'm in," I finally said. Mary looked up at the soldier. "Let's go." With that we were off at a pace so quick I almost had to jog to keep up. Mary led me through the building where I was outfitted with a uniform of sorts, before being ushered into a garage. Several black SUVs waited and I was pushed into one along with a group of other people I didn't recognize. I never saw the woman again, and I assume her name wasn't really Mary. The demeanor she had kept up originally had obviously been part of the ruse to stop anyone from guessing who she was. I wished I could've learned more about her. The convoy of SUVs was off immediately, and travelled at a pretty good clip toward an airfield I didn't recognize. I was piled into the rear seat of a fighter jet, and the pilot in front of me set about his routine of starting the engines before taxiing to the runway. When our turn came, we lined up and accelerated. I felt myself pulled into the seat by the forces, and then we were airborne and climbing at a rate I had never experienced. We flew for a while until I heard the engines power down behind me, and we dropped into a steep descent. Just above the water, we levelled off. Off to my right, I spotted an aircraft carrier not far away. I know that landing on a carrier is considered one of the most dangerous things a pilot can be asked to do, but still I wasn't ready for the violent jolt as we snagged the arrestor cable and were dragged to a halt.

Mary hailed a cab outside of LAX and we made the long ride to a fairly large, non-descript complex. Once again, she got me through security and led me into the bowels of the building. I found myself alone in a small, dimly lit room. There was a chair and a small table, but not much else. I waited a while, and then a young woman of about 20 came in. She dropped a newspaper on the table, before turning and leaving again without a word. It was something to do. How long I was there, I don't know. But it seemed like a long, long time.