The exhaust from the powerful and reliable F-110 engines fills my nostrils until we drop the canopy and bring our jet to life. Air roars through the ECS. Systems power up. Soon we're parked behind the cat, waiting our turn. I roger the weight board - 68.000 pounds. Baby 68.000 pounds! Grasp that if you can. The jet blast deflector comes down and we taxi into place, my pilot deftly splitting the cat track with the twin nose tires. And then - even after decades of doing the same thing - the adrenaline starts to flow as we start into the deck ballet unique to the Tomcat. The nose strut compresses, giving the fighter the look of a rail dragster The launch bar drops down. Wings motor forward. Flaps lower. Outboard spoiler module circuit breaker is engaged an old RIO gotcha. Our four hands go up as the ordies arm the missiles, bombs and gun.
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