I’d already flown my last flight in the squadron on Thursday and had all that water dropped on me, so when the skipper called early Saturday morning, it was a surprise. He had a jet that just came out of maintenance and needed a functional check flight for a Monday “go.”

Sure, skipper, whatever you want. It wasn’t going to be a big deal; I’d done dozens in the last few months and they were all pretty staid. You go up, check all the systems, shut down and restart the motors one after the other, then come back. There was usually plenty of time and gas to play, but the jets usually had three drop tanks and two other hard point attachments making them very draggy.

It was fun, but nothing to get inked for. It was going to be nice to have the entire area to myself, though. It was usually crowded off the coast of Virginia Beach during the week.

I pop into the squadron, suit up, thoroughly read the book, and head out to the jet. To the completely slick jet. No tanks, no pylons; nothing hanging on the jet whatsoever. This is just not something we see at an active F/A-18C squadron.

The thing just leapt off the deck and I ran quickly through the profile, which called for a Mach run to make sure the engines didn’t go to idle at high speeds when you closed the throttles (causes indigestion). It ramped up so quickly, I realized I should probably try it again, just to be sure.

So, I took a little time, got it up to its service ceiling of 50,000′, nosed over on a maximum acceleration profile, and was able to get to Mach 1.6, a couple points shy of the sticker speed. I will unequivocally say, though, that airplane, on that day, was not going any faster.

It was a good day.