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My military unit is somewhat unique, and there are probably about 300 personnel in the USAF who do my particular job. Wait! Only 300 controllers? No, there are a lot more than that, but my unit practices a type of critical-asset enablement that most don't. Specifically, we are tasked with and have the ability to take over hostile airfields and convert them to functioning facilities.





More specifically, special forces does the taking over, while we do the setting up. We can also do this for roads, dirt patches, and just about anywhere. In short, we can be dropped off or convoy in and go from zero capability to full ATCALS (ATCand landing systems) setup within 90 minutes; within 6 hours we can have radar approaches also running and being controlled. Additionally, although we use our mobile TACAN, we will soon be setting up D-ILS units.

Anyway, most of the time I work as a DoD civilian controller, but other times I do the other stuff. As part of a military assignment, we went to an Army Base, and from there went out to their range and set up ATC services for a tactical strip. Yay. We also hiked, rock-hounded, did some arms quals, etc.











Anyway, late one Wednesday night it was decided that a few of us should go up with the C130s the next day to observe their workload and...uh...not be as bored, I believe. I was all for this, so I got up early, showered, and went outside to marginal VFR conditions and spatters of rain. Blech. A 1-mile drive across base brought us to the base of GUR's control facility, which is also a kind of FBO for the military side.



The original plan was to go in a 4-ship formation, but the cloud deck was going to make that impossible.

Eventually, it was decided that airdrops would still occur, but with IFR flight plans and each ship staggered by 30 minutes. Fine with me.

A 1/2-mile walk brought us to the airplane and one of us was invited up to the cockpit.





Since my partners were a lady (and I'm a gentleman) and our supply guy (who is a darn decent young man who always gets the screws put to him), I declined to be in the cockpit for most of the time, and made sure that they got to spend time in there. Instead, I hung out with the young loadmaster and chatted a bit. When you enter the C130, you can either go upstairs to where all the nice seats are (lots of room up in the cockpit to walk around,too), or back to steerage, which is not nearly as nice as on a C-17. The lighting and condensation from the overhead ducts was kinda cool, though, I thought.











5 minutes after boarding the "safety" briefing started, and 5 minutes and 15 seconds after boarding it ended. In about 10 minutes we were taxing outbound. The controllers at this podunk craphole were confused apparently. "Uh, you want an IFR clearance to GUR? You're at GUR right now."

This was fixed and we got up on that runway and waited. There is a significant slant to the surface, so we were positioned facing downhill. After one heck up a power-up, the brakes were released and off we went!



We climbed out over the course of some 20 miles heading southeast, peaking at 11,000 feet.






The route is fairly standardized and is flow in a rhombus-looking way. I went up to the cockpit and talked to a Lt. Colonel who was very nice, and we discussed the aircraft systems and the pros and cons of the local airspace. Interestingly, there were about 6 of us up front, and two other officers were constantly giving advice and help to the two pilots.





Soon enough we were 5 minutes out and their hit the CAUTION light for the folks in back to get ready for the drop, so I went exited the cockpit in order to watch Heavy Helga get ejected into the kinda-soupy skies. That involved descending to 4,000 feet.



Talk about cool, BTW! And man, if I didn't know some folks that I could have added to Helga! Anyway, poof, it was gone and then we were climbing back up to 11,000!





It had now been about 50 minutes since departure, and we were descending heading north, so I knew that we'd be landing uphill, the opposite of how we took off. We came in over the Oregon Trail and some cliffs with lots of signatures from old-timey people on said trail, over the rotten river, and landed rather smoothly, just like the whole flight had been.












I would fly again for the price. Recommend that they add a beverage service at least, though.



After this, I hiked a long trip in the Wind River Range.

We had originally planned on doing Dinwoody Basin and then the Continental Divide. A slight case of altitude sickness and major cases of untenable snowpack were contributing factors to none of this happening.





Instead, we simply made it up as we went along. We went up Burro pass, over Goat Flat, along No Man's Pass saddle, across some glacial masses, down unnamed talus canyons with 33-degree slopes, along unnamed lakes, and through glacial lakes that are hostile to aquatic life.













In all, we wandered above 12,000 feet for the majority of the time and went to the highest 13'er in the entire North American Rockies. Saw glaciers, lakes, and camped in freezing temps with 40+MPH winds along frost plains. In all that time, we saw only 3 people.







But then we descended back down to 11,000 feet 2 days before the eclipse, and people started showing up in droves! They were way up in the mountains, where you have to hike across cliffs and talus for miles without trails, through bogs and deadfall, and uphill so very far.





Some were turned back. Some were not prepared. Some bit off more than they could chew. Others were highly competent—mostly some fit, older individuals—and prepared. Some young people were cocky and trying to impress their friends; some were doing that while trying to fish in lakes devoid of fish life due to choking glacial flour.







But all were there to witness something spectacular.

So with the eclipse approaching, we descended from the high basins, having already descended from the high peaks to the alti-planes, and we came upon a downed B-24 bomber from WWII.



















And farther along we trekked, down even more, until towering batholiths gave way to sandstone mountains.





And then down even father we trudged, until forest gave way to plains.





And there the eclipse happened, in a low canyon with mountains on either side.

What an experience; both the air drop and the eclipse!

Awesome stuff! Especially that last C-130 shot. Upload worthy me thinks.

Also, I found the noise levels to be far below what I would have expected. Is that true or is it just a function of the camera?

Thanks everyone. I should note that in the video of the drop in the OP, you might be able to tell that Heavy Helga is just cut-up rails from the railroad. So it reminded me of my old job.

Shy, it wasn't that loud actually. A lot louder than a commercial plane, but no worse than a C-17.

Lucas wrote:Heavy Helga is just cut-up rails from the railroad. So it reminded me of my old job.

That would explain all those trains falling over...

Well that was unique. I like that they left the B-24 there and just put up a plaque.

The shot of your tent under the stars is spectacular

ShanwickOceanic wrote:

Lucas wrote:Heavy Helga is just cut-up rails from the railroad. So it reminded me of my old job.

That would explain all those trains falling over...

Lucas wrote:Thanks everyone. I should note that in the video of the drop in the OP, you might be able to tell that Heavy Helga is just cut-up rails from the railroad. So it reminded me of my old job.

Shy, it wasn't that loud actually. A lot louder than a commercial plane, but no worse than a C-17.

We always used ragged out tank tread.