Above and Beyond: The Unhappy Bottom Riding Club
- By Norvin C. Evans
- Air & Space magazine, March 2010
The author just discovered a Pancho’s Happy Bottom Riding Club T-shirt he had stored away from his stint at Edwards Air Force Base — never worn.
Norvin C. Evans
Those of us in flight test at California’s Edwards Air Force Base in 1959 accused the Lockheed F-104 Starfighter production engineers of turning the designer’s drawings upside down. The wings of most aircraft employed dihedral—they were set at a slightly upward angle—but the F-104’s wings angled in the opposite direction; the horizontal stabilizer and elevator sat atop the vertical stabilizer instead of below it; and the ejection seat fired down instead of up.We could recover from the spin that resulted from the aircraft pitching up uncontrollably when it stalled,which was due to the T-tail configuration, but most pilots who used the Stanley C-1 downward seat ejection system didn't’t live to complain about it. Twenty-one had died in downward ejection seat accidents, including, in 1958, X-2 and X-15 test pilot Ivan Kincheloe.
The seat required the pilot to wear metal “spurs” on the heels of his flight boots, thus earning an F-104 pilot the nickname “Cowboy.” The spurs had slotted receptacles that the pilot slipped over steel balls at the base of the seat’s foot rest. The balls were anchored to cables on the seat that automatically pulled the pilot’s boots against the base of the seat so that when he ejected, he could safely clear the aircraft in one piece.
I conducted my own investigation of these design decisions in late June 1959. I had just returned to the Mojave Desert from a couple of weeks leave on the East Coast and stopped by Test Operations to check on the status of the Republic F-105 that I was flying in a stability and control test program.My boss, Lieutenant Colonel C. E. “Bud” Anderson, asked if I would stand by for a safety chase flight he was scheduled to fly—it had been delayed all day and probably wouldn’t go. It was already 5:30 p.m., and the colonel had to meet visiting Royal Air Force test pilots at the golf club.As soon as he left, Flight Lieutenant Jack Woodman called: The flight was on.He was evaluating a Grumman F11F-1F as a fighter for the Royal Canadian Air Force.
In an attempt to give the F11F enough power to reach Mach 2, engineers had installed a General Electric J-79 engine—the same engine used in the F-104. I was flying safety chase in an F-104A, even though the aircraft were still in test status. The -104s were the only aircraft we had that would reach twice the speed of sound
At 35,000 feet, 65 miles west of Edwards,Woodman and I had reached 1.87Mach when my engine developed excessive vibration.A glance at the instrument panel showed I was losing oil pressure—a recurring problem with the early J-79s.
I immediately reduced power and turned back toward the base. I thought: This really can’t be happening to me! Knowing the procedure for placing the minimum balanced load on the engine compressor bearings, I had throttled back to 88 percent power. I was 15 miles from Edwards and at 15,000 feet and 450 mph when the pressure reached zero. I was too high to touch down safely on the 15,000-foot main runway, but the dry lake bed provided miles of overrun. Changing the throttle position would surely cause trouble, so I tapped the speed brake switch. Big mistake. The aircraft shuddered, the fire warning light came on, the engine ground to a stop, and the cockpit filled with smoke. In just a few seconds, I was able to see my altimeter as it unwound through 7,500 feet—ground elevation was 3,000 feet—and my airspeed drop to 275mph.
I had to eject. Immediately.
I reached down and pulled the D-ring on the front of the seat,which would fire the ejection cartridge. Nothing happened. I pulled again— still nothing. Looking down to make certain I had gripped it properly, I pulled a gain with all my might. I felt a tremendous blast of wind as I was fired toward the ground.
I had been told that if you had time to think about the parachute deploying, that meant the lanyard that connected the seat to the parachute D-ring hadn’t worked. I looked at my lap to see if my seat belt had opened— it had.At the same time, I reached for my parachute D-ring and found it still in place on my chest strap. To manually activate deployment, I grabbed the D-ring and threw it far from my chest. The pilot chute streamed between the seat and my body, pulling the parachute out. The parachute canopy began to unfurl from my left side.Next came a tremendous shock on my shoulders as the chute deployed, snapping me around like a rag doll.Now I was plummeting head-first toward the desert. The next shock was in my groin as the chute fully deployed. The canopy was above my head—the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen—even if the horizon was running directly through the middle of it, indicating that I was horizontal to the ground, which was fast approaching.
Using all my remaining strength, I pulled the parachute’s top shroud lines and stopped my pendulum swing almost directly under the canopy. The ground was racing toward me, and before I could get turned around to face downwind, I hit the ground rotating. I landed in what had been Pancho Barnes’Happy Bottom Riding Club dump and was dragged for 40 yards on my back through broken glass and tin cans until my chute got hung up on a yucca tree.
The aircraft went in five miles short of the runway at Edwards. I was one happy aviator, even though my flight suit was torn and covered with blood and sand, I had cracked several vertebrae in my lower back, an air police pickup truck almost ran over me, and a doctor on his first day at the base hospital and a pediatrician on his first rescue helicopter ride dropped me from the stretcher a couple of times.
Mine was the last downward ejection from an F-104. The aircraft got a Lockheed C-2 upward ejection seat, an oil pressure warning light, and a “butt kicker” system that throws an ejecting pilot out of the seat after the C-2 clears the aircraft.
The investigation revealed the oil pressure loss was caused by a rupture in an expandable oil line. The loss of cooling oil melted the compressor bearings,which caused the compressor blades, rotating at 18,000 rpm, to shift, impacting the fixed stator blades and destroying the engine.
A later examination showed that the cable,which was attached to the firing initiator,was wound in three loops and encased under a plate that was bolted to the seat front. The last time the seat was inspected, the last loop had gotten wedged between the seat and the plate when the cover plate was bolted to the seat. The investigators estimated that to stretch the inside strands of that trapped loop one-sixteenth of an inch, just enough to fire the seat ejection cartridge, I had to have pulled hard enough to create a force of 450 pounds.
Someone up there must like me.
Comments (9)
WOW.... what an incredible ride.... thank you so much for sharing the story with us Bud!
Posted by Derek Horne on January 30,2010 | 04:49 AM
Try going out the door at 400 feet! EDITORS' REPLY: Tell us more!
Posted by Fred Ascani on January 30,2010 | 02:07 PM
I did the first full-stall tests on the F-104A in 1956-57. The aircraft pitched, rolled and yawed severely at and after the stall but there was never a tendency to spin. Later tests conducted by Jake Holliman showed that it could be forced into a spin but recovery was not a problem. If I remember correctly these tests were conducted with tip tanks but no other external stores.
Posted by Vergil Givens on February 9,2010 | 03:00 PM
A note to Bud,
One of my co-workers at EAFB handed me a hard copy of your article and said you probable know about this as you were here in that time period. I took one look at it from a distance and remarked; "Oh yea that's Bud Evans". I don't remember the accident as there were lot of F-104's being lost in that time period. Brand new 2Lt Armstrong was the gofer flight test engineer for the F11F-1F program that Kinch was project pilot for. Bud, I am still enployed at Edwards Civil Service and working hypersonic programs. I recently got a street named for Capt Joe Jordan who I work F-104 #965 performance testing with as well at his record altitude flight to 103,395 feet. Two of Joe's children came to the dedication hosted by Maj General Eichhorn. Would welcome email from you.
johnny.armstrong@verizon.net
Posted by Johnny Armstrong on February 16,2010 | 03:56 PM
Mr. Evans,
Do you know the serial number of the -104 behind you? Just curious if it is 56-750 (which still exists and is being restored to fly once again).
Thanks!
Posted by Scott Vetter on May 31,2011 | 11:25 PM
Very good read, sir.
Posted by clifton on July 11,2011 | 06:33 PM
Bud,
Very interesting indeed. The engine failure and subsequent successful downward ejection event are captivating. Your recount was as if it just happened yesterday, but I think these kind of experiences are hard to get out of your head as long as you live.Your training and the resulting instinctive reactions no doubt allowed you to live and fly another day!
On January 3rd 1968 my father (Joe Jordan) and Col Henry Brown were forced into testing the F-111 escape system, as you probable remember. He later gave a presentation at an SETP symposium on escape systems. I have a copy of this presentation. In the presentation he provides a detailed recount of his experience, just like you did in the Air & Space Smithsonian article.
In my father’s presentation he says,”…the performance envelope of the module must be as good as that of the aircraft. This includes an escape capability at zero speed, zero altitude, supersonic at sea level, and 2.5 Mach at 60,000 feet. Needless to say, load factors imposed upon the crew members at all of these conditions must be within human tolerance. In our case, pulling the handle at 300 KCAS at 8,000 ft MSL, separation from or jettisoning the aircraft was mild considering the fact that you ignite a 47,500 pound thrust rocket motor. The 0.30 second delay waiting for the harness to lock and separation to occur seems like an eternity when the aircraft is on fire and you have no flight controls.”
I very much enjoyed reading your article. The F-104 was a real Hot Rod. I too would welcome an email Kenneth_Jordan510@Verizon.net
Posted by Ken C. Jordan on November 25,2012 | 05:25 AM
I ejected from a Mirage 3 two seater at low level and low speed - you never forget anything. Although this happened on 5 November 1981 (my own Guy Fawkes), I can still remember every detail. I pulled the lower handle, it felt as if nothing happens, so I looked down and pulled again, and then I went out. It felt as if I tilted forward just after ejection, the ground was very, very close and my thought was that I would not make it. Then the chute opened, I pushed back my helmet, looked down and hit the ground! I compressed vertebrae in my middle back, but live to tell the story!
Posted by Steyn Venter on February 5,2013 | 04:30 AM
Excellent. Thank you for sharing
Posted by Glen Dell on February 6,2013 | 04:05 AM