She held so many dreams
The old air frame lies in a scrap yard. For the most part, it doesn't look that different from when it could still fly. The desert climate had been kind to the brushed aluminum skin. But if you looked at it in more than passing you would see it was far from airworthy.
The engine nacelles lay empty; the high performance power plants they once held had long ago been salvaged or recycled. Control surfaces sag with out the hydraulics that once gave them life. The flaps and slats on the wings droop like the branches of a desert palm. Various access panels hang open, revealing empty compartments stripped of their avionics. The tires of the landing gear are flat and cracking from the hot desert air. The cotpit is little more than a hole in the fuselage.
The seat was one of the first things to go removed by hasty wrenches rather the explosive bolts meant to give the pilot a second chance. The bays that held the systems that provided life for the pilot are empty exposing numerous plugs and hoses that now lead to nothing. The instrument panels are gone, as are all the electronics and sensors they were once connected to. The controls remain: switches that change nothing, throttle levers that bring nothing to life, rudder petals that will never be pressed, and a rust-by-wire stick.
It was once a prototype, a great new machine full of promise. Thousands of man-hours were spent in its design. Many new theories and principles were put to test by the new design. It held on to powerful new engines and hung from wings shaped ever so precisely. It held a great payload of weapons and fuel, and an even greater payload of dreams.
Once in the air however, it was not what had been hoped for. The numbers that came back from the test flights were not quite what had been hoped for. The problems that came up in maintenance were great and difficult to fix. It simply could not live up to the dreams of its creators.
So, it came to rest here but, not to be forgotten.
For weeks crews poured over every ounce of data they could squeeze out of its computers. Technicians carefully probed each and every mechanical system of the machine. Manny lessons were learned from this great failure. Each system that broke gave hint of how to make a better version that would not. Careful examination of the structure reviled weak points and other parts where weight was wasted to make something too strong.
And so the skeleton of the great plane sit today, not as a reminder of past failures, but of the lessons gleaned from its metal bones. It has been picked clean, like a great roasted beast, but each scrap of meat fed the base of knowledge. It sits ignored and well worn, like a text-book that has been read from cover to cover, and can serve the student no more except as an occasional reference.
It sits in the hot desert sun and gathers dust as the lessons learned from it fly far overhead.
The engine nacelles lay empty; the high performance power plants they once held had long ago been salvaged or recycled. Control surfaces sag with out the hydraulics that once gave them life. The flaps and slats on the wings droop like the branches of a desert palm. Various access panels hang open, revealing empty compartments stripped of their avionics. The tires of the landing gear are flat and cracking from the hot desert air. The cotpit is little more than a hole in the fuselage.
The seat was one of the first things to go removed by hasty wrenches rather the explosive bolts meant to give the pilot a second chance. The bays that held the systems that provided life for the pilot are empty exposing numerous plugs and hoses that now lead to nothing. The instrument panels are gone, as are all the electronics and sensors they were once connected to. The controls remain: switches that change nothing, throttle levers that bring nothing to life, rudder petals that will never be pressed, and a rust-by-wire stick.
It was once a prototype, a great new machine full of promise. Thousands of man-hours were spent in its design. Many new theories and principles were put to test by the new design. It held on to powerful new engines and hung from wings shaped ever so precisely. It held a great payload of weapons and fuel, and an even greater payload of dreams.
Once in the air however, it was not what had been hoped for. The numbers that came back from the test flights were not quite what had been hoped for. The problems that came up in maintenance were great and difficult to fix. It simply could not live up to the dreams of its creators.
So, it came to rest here but, not to be forgotten.
For weeks crews poured over every ounce of data they could squeeze out of its computers. Technicians carefully probed each and every mechanical system of the machine. Manny lessons were learned from this great failure. Each system that broke gave hint of how to make a better version that would not. Careful examination of the structure reviled weak points and other parts where weight was wasted to make something too strong.
And so the skeleton of the great plane sit today, not as a reminder of past failures, but of the lessons gleaned from its metal bones. It has been picked clean, like a great roasted beast, but each scrap of meat fed the base of knowledge. It sits ignored and well worn, like a text-book that has been read from cover to cover, and can serve the student no more except as an occasional reference.
It sits in the hot desert sun and gathers dust as the lessons learned from it fly far overhead.