Aborted takeoff run #2
"We're going to do the same thing this time," said Don, "but this
time, we'll use brakes and reverse thrust."
I brought the throttles up, stabilized the engine, and Don took over,
pushing the levers forward to give us full takeoff power. We rolled down the
runway, rapidly gaining speed, and before long we had 80 knots,
then 100 knots, and soon 120 knots.
"Vee-one! Abort!"
I brought the thrust levers to idle, and pressed hard with my toes on
the brakes, nearly standing on them. With my right hand, I grabbed a third
set of thrust levers about four inches forward of the main ones, and pulled
them backward. A loud roar sounded as the reverse thrust doors closed over the
engines, and we were nearly thrown forward as the 747 rapidly decelerated.
The difference in deceleration was amazing! In fact, the deceleration was
making it quite a bit easier for me to stand on the brakes.
"Okay, 80 knots," said Don. He was reminding me
to take the reverse levers back to idle, since running reverse
thrust at speeds below 80 knots has the tendency to flame out the engines.
I brought the reverse levers forward, and the roar subsided. We
decelerated quickly through 60 and then 40 knots. Once we stopped, I looked
ahead. A quarter mile of runway was still left in front of us.
Clearly the thrust reversers helped us gain an extra 3,500 feet of
stopping distance.
The sky turned white again. Don mentioned that the area scenery
in Dallas was pretty sparse, and we'd be better off using San
Francisco for takeoff and some VFR maneuvering. We agreed to
the suggestion.
"Great."
"Now remember to get the nose up to fifteen degrees on climbout."
A runway appeared in front of me, and the hills of northwest
California materialized around me.
Real takeoff
We went through the same routine, stabilizing the engines, bringing them
up to takeoff thrust, and accelerating.
"EPR set!" said Don. "Eighty knots."
I kept the aircraft steady along the centerline, watching us gain speed.
"Vee-one!"
I removed my hand from the thrust levers. After all, we passed V1
and were now committed to fly.
"Rotate," he said. Rotate is the speed at which it's
appropriate to pitch the nose upward to allow the aircraft to lift off.
Rotating at too low a speed causes drag, slowing the acceleration
to liftoff speed and lengthening the takeoff run, and at too high
a speed it forces the plane to use up runway when it could
already be airborne.
I pulled back slowly but firmly on the yoke, and the nose began
rising.
"Vee-two," said Don. V2 is the speed at which the aircraft
should begin lifting off.
The horizon dropped below the nose of the aircraft
and the runway began falling away beneath us. We climbed skyward. "Positive
rate of climb, gear up!" Bob reached toward the center panel and moved
the gear lever from the DOWN to the UP position.
As instructed, I kept my eyes on the artificial horizon, keeping
the wings level while seeking out 15 degrees of pitch for our climb
and watching our airspeed to ensure a nice gradual acceleration.
"Not bad!" said Don. "Keep it at fifteen degrees. Flaps 15." Bob
reached forward and retracted the flaps by five degrees, cleaning
up the airplane so we could begin reducing drag and accelerate.
I looked outside at San Francisco in a July twilight. I looked down
at the roads and could see headlights of cars. I was astounded.
They were moving along in both directions! I was
mesmerized, and for quite awhile I forgot I was in a simulator.
My grip on the yoke tightened a little. |