Before you do that Jon, read this, it would be a shame to waste a Dakota
like that.
Here’s the deal: the Arizona Highway Patrol came upon this pile of
smoldering metal embedded in the side of a cliff running above a strip of
highway at the apex of a curve. The wreckage resembled the site of an
airplane crash, but it was actually the remains of a car. The type of car,
however, was unidentifiable at the scene. The crackerjack police crime lab,
after much pondering and computing of highly improbable and annoyingly
complex physics formulas finally figured out what it was and the details of
what happened.
Here’s essentially what happened... it seems that the driver of the car had
somehow gotten hold of a JATO unit. Do you know what that is? JATO -- it’s
an acronym J-A-T-O, as in Jet Assisted Take Off, which is actually a solid
fuel rocket, used to give military transport planes an extra push for taking
off from short airfields. He had then driven his Chevy Impala out on to the
desert, and found a long, straight stretch of road, attached the JATO unit
to his car, jumped in, got up some speed and fired it off. Silly boy!
The facts, as best could be determined by what little was left of him, are
that the operator of the former 1967 Impala hit the JATO ignition at a
distance of approximately 3.9 miles from the final crash site. This was
determined by the very prominent and somewhat smelly scorched and melted
asphalt at that location.
If operating properly, the JATO would have reached maximum thrust as they
call it, within five seconds of ignition, causing the Chevy to reach speeds
well in excess of 350 miles per hour, and continuing at full power for an
additional 20 to 25 short but certainly harrowing seconds. At this point,
the driver, now pilot and soon to be cadaver, would be experiencing G-forces
usually reserved for oh, say dog-fighting F-14 pilots under full afterburner
blowout and reducing him to nearly two dimensional status for the rest of
the ride.
However, the trusty Impala managed to remain on the highway for an
dditional, oh, about 15 to 20 seconds, or 2.5 miles before the driver, in
what had to be a nearly super-human and super-stupid effort to stop the car,
applied the brakes. Not completely unlike ice cream on a hot summer day, the
brakes immediately melted and the tires subsequently blew, leaving thick
streaks of steamy rubber on the road surface.
The Impala, now without either brakes or wheels, and therefore airborne,
continued for an additional 1.4 screaming miles of fun before impacting a
cliff-face at an amazing height of 125 feet, leaving a blackened crater
three feet deep in the rock.
Sadly, but not unbelievably, most of the driver’s remains were not
recoverable, however, small fragments of bone, teeth and hair were extracted
painstakingly from the smoking crater, and fingernail and bone shards were
removed from a piece of debris believed to be the steering wheel. All in
all, about enough to fill a maraca.
So, there you have it, the winner of the 1996 Darwin Award.
>> As per the IRC chat last night, I've decided when I get the MP comp from
>> Patrick, and the B&F TB I'm gonna attempt to spank a 747 at takeoff.
>> (road paralleling the airport is *closed* now) Anyone know the min. air
>> speed for a 747? I think I might run out of tranny gears...
>>
>> Jon "I need a JATO rocket" Smith
This archive was generated by hypermail 2b29 : Fri Jun 20 2003 - 12:12:32 EDT