Farflung

Why on Earth would the 'Real Sluggo' be compelled to publish a retraction for some comment made by a 'Fake Sluggo'? The comments have the same screen names as several individuals on this forum but share little else. Think there is some well versed imitation, but I can't see Quade feeling the need to make any comment. Not to say I didn't get a good laugh out of the comments. The threshold the Christiansen family holds for being insulted is a little skewed here. The majority of the quote "All his investigation work performed from his little book studio just down the road from where" is not remotely about Christiansen and odd in inclusion. The quote "Christianson used to do young boyz..." could be a lie, but has nothing to do with the ChristiansEn family. I want proper credit given to the person who threatened over thirty people with death while robbing a company of $200,000. Since being accused of the preceding is not considered insulting, one can see why the comment about boyz was taken so hard. I think you responded to a single person rather than snowmman, CKRET, Cossey?!? (OMG) or Sluggo Monster. Does it even seem remotely plausible that Quade would admonish the comment section on another blog? I don't think he is into some omnipotent, monitoring of every D B Cooper chat. A comment section that does not require registration is pretty easy to conduct such a ruse, or would this be considered a perfidy? Either way, it gave me a chuckle just like the people who do imitations of politicians and TV personalities. It is amusing how they can capture a few elements of their persona but the audience knows it is not them.

Notice how they left out the color of the steel parachute? How can any value adding analysis be completed without the entire story? Details or entire relevance can be lost in the translation. I was working in Mexico and was experiencing a headache. Inside the drug store I asked for something because my head (calabaza) hurts (duele). The girl gave me a blank stare then went back to return with several other people. They did not speak English so I responded as all Americans with a slower and louder - Mi calabaza duele!. After a stunned silence they began to laugh.... at me. Time to pull out that last arrow in my linguistic quiver; so I said the same thing for a third time, but even slower and louder. They responded by laughing, longer and louder. So I'm back at the hotel and I ask what I did that was so far off. Well, the word for 'head' is in fact cabeza, not calabaza, they said. What's the difference, tomato versus toe-mah-toe, right? No. One word means head, the other means 'pumpkin'. I was telling, then yelling to a small group that my pumpkin hurts, please help. I guess what I learned, is that if you in fact have an injured pumpkin, Mexico is not a country to expect any aid or compassion for your gourd. Any thoughts on what color the steel parachute was?

Considering how easily some 'research' can go down a rat hole with a smattering of unsourced information, how was the initial search conducted? No one observed Cooper jump - CHECK. Chase planes observed nothing - CHECK. Money and placard recovered - CHECK. Pressure bump reported north of Portland - CHECK. Absolutely no other information available - CHECK. This appears to be a prime collection of disjointed and weak information to base a search upon. Could it have been flawed from the start as with the Steve Fossett search? Or is it too large of a search area like the more contemporary mystery of a missing Beechcraft (N927JL, 21 Sept 2003) in Greer, Arizona? Even with the astronomically, unlikely, discovery of the money; there is a school of thought that the stuff was buried there as a diversion. It has become a diversion to be sure. If Cooper pranged it in the Columbia, the rig would still be recognizable and possibly snagged on something that has rested on the river bottom for the last hundred years and managed to avoid being swept out to sea. Of course the money, if not buried as a diversion, could have been part of that un-reported offering which Mucklow refused. Strange how the reports have such overlapping, if not aligned information, yet Mucklow being offered money by Cooper is largely unknown. Even with the Mucklow money story being verified, one must make the assumption that the money discovered in the river bank (ironic) as being the same pile offered to Mucklow and not any of the many other packs lashed or hidden on Cooper's person. Even after accepting the before mentioned as more than plausible there is the theory that the Mucklow money, that Cooper lost during the jump, managed to migrate, upstream in a singular unit. How many of these theories would be considered serious if any associated data was removed? Piles of rubber banded, paper going ten miles upstream or the same pile buried (buried that is) as a diversion ten miles downstream of 305's flight path? Typically when an experiment produces a surprise result, it is due to a flawed assumption. California outlawed changing your own car oil as a way to reduce pollution. Sounds so good. The first water quality reports after the ban indicated an increase in water pollution. Weird huh? The people who live on economic margins could least afford the extra $10 for an oil change, kept on doing the work, but instead of turning in the waste oil at the Napa store, they poured it down the storm drains. Result - banning DIY oil changes increases pollution. Live and learn.

That chute from Craigslist could (but won't) serve as a control point for a few assumptions. Pink canopies appear to exist in several variations. I'm guessing the design was the driver for color selection. Paratroopers would favor canopies that match the surrounding terrain in order to maintain cover. Aircrew and cargo may be more desirous of DayGlo colors since being recovered is their primary goal. Surplus canopies are not like Faberge Eggs. My father got ahold of some surplus rigs through his ring knocking, network of friends. The chute was promptly gutted as the part he was most interested in using was the harness. A couple straps of webbing (also surplus) made for the perfect and cheap safety harness for climbing his HAM tower. Not too glamorous, but useful. The canopy was used for several things. All of which seem a little odd now. Using bamboo poles, you could cover fruit trees or vines as a way to prevent frost damage to them. One was used as a temporary roof (sun shade) for cattle till the barn could be completed. Another was used as a ground cover around almond trees during harvest. Surround the base of the tree with the canopy and using bamboo poles (again) to knock the nuts out of the branches. Then lift the edges of the canopy to corral your herd of nuts to a central collection point, then off to the next tree. You can imagine my surprise to discover these things also having a use in aviation. I'm not as much surprised that a person discovers a parachute in the forest as much as the correlation to Cooper is assumed, if not an absolute. Cossey said the Amboy canopy was not his chute and that should have been the end. Since it was near where Cooper may have jumped, further research appears to be required. Strange. Growing up in a rural environment, we typically had uses for cheap things that could cover big things, like cows and trees. Certain suburban people are typically more consumed about their neighbors use of a non-conformist, door knocker which was installed, without prior approval of the Home Owners Association. The latter group appear to take more than door knockers way too seriously. The cornerstone of 'Research and Development' is the ability to fail and move on efficiently to the next variable. Not too glamorous, but useful. The Amboy chute was not Cooper's..... next contestant please.

The first attached image (NO 1) is of a Special Agent standing in a parking space and wearing a coat similar to the one Cooper was wearing. What are the odds in Seattle? She appears to be looking down at an amorphous pile of fabric which I can best catalog as 'not pink.' The next action shot (NO 2) has Robbie Burroughs with the same 'not pink' chute with an inset image with some more data. Finally, in image (NO 3) Agent Burroughs bravely touches the Amboy chute in order to prove it is in fact 'not pink' in color and therefore eliminating any future confusion. The next image (FBI photo) is from the FBI web site and is a .... photo. This is the reserve chute that D B Cooper left in the plane the night he jumped. This image and a video on youtube, has one Special Agent Carr (non female) holding what many may consider a pink or perhaps coral, if not fuchsia to rose tinted fabric, which has the feel of silk and the show stopping flair of taffeta. I need a moment to rub down the goose bumps. The pink chute was no doubt, refused by Cooper since no self respecting Hijacker would be caught dead wearing a little, ain't I sweet, call me Nancy, pink reserve parachute. Besides clashing with Coopers eyes and shoes, the lack of pattern would have been less than flattering as he made his flamboyant exit. Those crafty 'G' people, have switched evidence where Burroughs now has the Khaki canopy and Agent Carr is clearly participating in the cover up by being filmed holding the pink, reserve parachute, that Cooper left on the plane. ' Yeah, RRiiiiiiiiiiiight.

A strange and terrible incident in the Bay Area Skydiving DZ (Calif) the other day. Some guy went jumping and didn't return home so his family notified the police. After a search of the area his body was found about half a mile from the DZ with both chutes in their containers. This was surprising on several levels. First is the environment around Byron Airport. This is one of the most bucolic spots between the Central Valley and the foot hills towards the Bay Area. Very flat, virtually treeless and open makes for a simple search area. Yet it took a fair amount of effort to find his body knowing precisely where he jumped on a sunny afternoon. Secondly, the jump pilot and any people on the ground were too absorbed with what ever they were doing to notice a jumper with a big wad of canopy in his arms had not returned. Do people typically shove their deployed chute in the back of their cars and drive home after a second jump? I'm a bit (much actually) surprised there is not a ground observer counting canopies and letting the jump pilot know when it is all clear. If one was to experience a failure and survive with a couple broken legs, it appears they would be doomed none the less. Cross check equipment, cross check each other then you're on your own. I realize this would have changed nothing in this case, just trying to imagine how a jumper can meet such an end without any first hand notice. Which brings up the probability of a person glancing up, at night, just in time to observe a person throwing flares and departing the rear of an aircraft. So many witnesses to this event who were not jumpers or involved in aviation and no one from Byron Airport observed a man falling to his demise. Jumpers, pilots and the usual crowd at an airport on a summer day with out so much as a "What about Bob?" uttered. It is chilling to read about any such tragedy and somehow worse that there was not a process in place to track such a short and quick journey, with such high risk involved.

There are a few items getting left in the killing fields of history and culture from 1971. First is Kenny's wages of $600 per month. This certainly sounds low by today's iPhone using and BMW 350i driving standards but this is $7,200 per year. According to the National average wage index published by the Social Security Administration, the average wage for 1971 was $6,497.08 (roughly). Kenny was making 10% above this amount and residing in a reasonable cost of living region. True he was not rolling in dough, but he was far from impoverished. Then there are items which appear and disappear from the cultural landscape with little fanfare. Leg warmers were sported by women across the US in the early 80's and cured cold legs even in Phoenix and Los Angeles. This could cause some higher body temps which triggered perspiration which wrought the head bands. Good luck finding any woman to admit that they ever owned such common fashions, therefore they never existed. Bring on the 90's and the inexplicable appearance of the Fanny Pack which served as little more than a polyester scrotum worn by men who clearly had none of their own. Astonishing was the fact that these items were a complete joke from day one. Will these same 'men' protest how useful they are for carrying stuff today? Heck no, they will deny, deny, deny. This thing served as a master key to thousands and thousands of closets which opened the way for the new gender called - metro-sexual. So what items would the average person be clutching in 1971? This was when children somehow soldiered on without backpacks and went to schools which did not have a cafeteria. The average commute distance was six miles and chain restaurants were still in the most aggressive phases of growth. Remember? Lunch boxes and sack lunches were the norm not the exception. In 35 years of work, my father never bought a lunch. Now in 2010, Cooper and Kenny being spotted with a brown paper sack is a harbinger of something sinister or salacious rather than something as banal as a corned beef sandwich and apple. I guess I was the only person from a 'poor family' that had to come home with my paper sack, so it could be used again. If you were lucky (or rich) you might score one of those long forgotten ice cream sacks that were extra heavy and insulated. You could use those babies for months and they were impervious to rain and fire. Yes Cooper and Kenny could well have had something else in their sacks and not been entirely happy with earning the national average wage (how different from today). I simply don't see a great deal of weight associated with either after viewing this from a 1971, WABAC machine with Mister Peabody. Twizzle, twazzle, truzzle, trome, time for this one to go home.

This is what puts Cooper in the same league as Bigfoot and Roswell UFO crashes. Simply have Cooper in your story and factual errors, anachronisms and suspension of disbelief will be reduced to their most impotent definition. Someone tells a story about flying fish out of Alaska with one tiny but un-addressed slip. Long pause, dismissive rhetoric and it's off to the races with a declaration that the story checks out 100% accurate. If the 'control' story is feeble, how could the core tale be any better? If you were a genuine skunk aficionado, your story should be solid about skunks..... right? This guy is not a Cooper expert, he is a self proclaimed skunkologist who just moved to Washington. Did Stinky's owner realize that owning a skunk in Washington is prohibited? Perfectly fine on Oregon but a big NO in Washington. Did Stinky's owner know that skunks have a limited range of about one and a half miles? Since Stinky is a female, her range is closer to half a mile. How many logs could be around Stinky's home within half a mile and so close to a forest with such well marked trails? Seems very limited indeed. The Cooper aspect means nothing if this guy can't research and use a better foil. Just like people claiming to hear Flt 305's communications or expat, pilots living in Germany. Why is such credence given to the Cooper elements? An overwhelming desire to believe anything regardless of the source or quality of ancillary information? Listen to the Stinky video that is a whopping 2 minutes long. Listen. You will hear Katydids, Brown Bear, Osprey, Red Tail Hawk what sound like a lion and the chatter of Cicada. Has anyone ever experienced such a cacophony of calls in the woods? Has anyone ever been in the woods? Am I the only one that got a laugh out of that absurd audio?

Being an unashamed cynic, this Stinky scenario has baited the usual leap frog analysis. Good thing this 40 year old professional auto detailer, with 25 years experience didn't have the skills to Photoshop some Cooper serial numbers on those bills. Imagine the debates that would be raging for the next week or two. Since he repeated skunks make great pets several times, I went into a psychological analysis where one can see a lonely twelve year old boy crying himself to sleep because his birthday was forgotten, again. It was through a combination of voice stress analysis and his desire to split the money with anyone who would spend some time searching for the treasure. Or.... I searched "Pet Skunk" to find that 'Stinky' portrayed in the 'second' video is not a female from SW Washington but a male named Mr. Bumble, who lives in the UK and is an obese omnivore on a diet. http://www.watchmojo.com/blog/travel/2009/10/01/pet-skunk-on-strict-diet-no-more-bacon/

The other video with 'Stinky' traversing her natural habitat demonstrated some attributes about skunks which I had never known. Stinky's foot falls are extremely clumsy, loud, heavy and oddly bipedal. Here I thought the critters only weighed in around 8 pounds and trundled on all four legs. You know this can't be a hoax since the video was made by a person (adult male) who mustered all of his creative abilities to name his pet skunk... Stinky. Clearly such a dullard would be incapable of crafting such a prank. Therefore, I offer his incompetence as proof of authentic images in the video. The money has CLEARLY been burned by flares and stacked in a way that is quite common among DC-7 pilots, adjusting their weigh and balance, for departure from Dutch Harbor. This was written in a book which was secretly published and no longer available or viewable. WOW, the noose just keeps getting tighter. I personally think Cooper has long since laughed himself to death.

There are a few venues with 'happenings' that embody the theory that Americans don't understand moderation. I have personally attended three, over sold and over hyped, cultural gatherings which have the additional attribute of faded or long forgotten relevance. 1. Mardi Gras (1979) 2. Sturgis (1987) 3. EAA Oshkosh Fly-in (1995) From the three hour crossing of the Lake Pontchartrain causeway to a city with hotel rooms booked the year prior, I still had to experience some shoulder to shoulder, drunk fest, that gave me an appreciation for elbow room and how fresh the inside of a public restroom smells compared to the outdoors in the French Quarter during Mardi Gras. Sturgis was a gathering place of veterans who went from aerial combat over Europe in WWII to picking weeds from their lawns and guarding against chinch. These refugees of a binary transition purchased snarling, coughing vehicles with a sound and feel similar to the aircraft they crewed in earlier times. They gathered in an area where they could spend a little time in the company of those who silently understood. By 1987 the streets were filled with vehicles towing a trailer which contained the motorcycle. Not being concerned with the equivalent of a helicopter ride to the top of the Matterhorn, these new riders introduced Sturgis to coos coos, lattes and mimosas. Perhaps my father and uncles simply had forgotten to mention this element. Oshkosh was that 'lil ol airport that pilots used who had a common interest. Building and flying their own aircraft. I passed the Ford pavilion then through the booths manned by Piper, Cessna, Beechcraft, Boeing, Airbus, Dassault, Cirrus, Bombardier, Diamond and Hawker to find a Hartford Group kiosk had blocked any exit. I was able to take a shortcut behind some static displays of T-6, P-51, F-16, T-38, C-130, A-1E and C-47 aircraft to blunder into a combination Jamba Juice, Starbucks, Smoothie concession where models from Old Navy, The Gap and Dockers displayed the new line-up for the discerning metrosexual. The next turn would prove equally sublime with a 'Hello Kitty-esque' mascot flanked by three mimes handing out brochures about some service on a thing called Internet. So reading about some private citizen crashing his high end, Beechcraft, twin-jet in front of a regional audience gathered to celebrate home spun craftsmanship, innovation and talent didn't even raise an eyebrow. I hope the NASCAR community can recover from this mishap that has tarnished their event. This entire accident could have been prevented if those low and slow, bugsmashers were prohibited from entering Oshkosh airspace. There are B-2s and Boeing 747s in the pattern after all. Some people.

Message as follows..... Alpha... Oscar.... Niner... Delta... Romeo... Kilo... Fife.... I say again... Alpha... Holy crap! It's an actual! Knock it off, that's not funny. Nav, confirm? He's right, it's a launch. We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when.... But I'm sure we'll meet again some sunny day....

About the crew.... Major Kong represented exactly what the rest of the world does not understand about how Americans fight a war. The name Kong as in King Kong and the 'Southern drawl' complete with Stetson was intended as a sort of jab at American culture. This was a total failure as a message. First of all, I want my military ranks filled with hulking, intimidating, larger than life soldiers. Would it have been better to portray some Harvey Milquetoast reflecting on the latest passage of Voltaire he just read? Second, that hick, southern drawl is as comforting as the apple pies baked by thousands of mothers across this magnificent country. When I hear Slim Pickens, I also hear my neighbors voice (this is allegory) and therefore the voice of reason. Slim would not mindlessly follow the orders issued from some little dude with a toothbrush moustache. Third, this aircraft represented the most sinister and underestimated element of what is called American Ingenuity. Missile strikes, leaking fuel, communications failures, equipment fires, vectored fighters, radar tracking and jammed bomb bay doors proved to be little more than a distraction to the crew. Although reality paints a much quicker and violent end to most shoot downs, this crew represented the inner Superman most military members harbor deep inside. Some not so deep. I can't recall anyone from SAC who thought the crew in Strangelove's BUFF were worthy of anything less than admiration. Kong riding the bomb while hooting like a rodeo cowboy..... Instant Icon. Rather than serving as a harbinger to nuclear annihilation, the crew was used as a pattern for completing a task with limited and failing resources. The average BUFF crew was well aware that if they were ever to be used in nuclear combat, the likelihood of anything being left was zero. Kong riding the nuke to oblivion was a far more desirable choice than ditching in the Barents or ejecting over Siberia to freeze, starve or experience the effects of long term radiation exposure.

377, The condoms were for storing water by using the flight helmet as a sort of frame. The experience survival school passed on was how critical water would be. Water, water, water, everything else is sort of a luxury. The grade I would give Dr. Strangelove for the "Leper Colony" is an A+. It really is astonishing what the set designers were able to glean from a few photos from LIFE magazine. The minutia of the equipment was a parody. Double Master Safety Override Bypass set to Standby? This is quite the paradox since the audience may have 'bought' the concept where BUFF crews were doubled over at the sublime genius and absurd nature of such a system. The only obvious indicator this being movie set was betrayed when the pilot could stand upright in the cockpit. The only place on the BUFF where you could stand would have been in the navigators compartment, next to the ladder, with the grate in the open position. The more subtle actions like the crew playing cars or eating lunch while seated before enough destructive power to make a continent uninhabitable for several centuries was inspired genius and probably overlooked by many as well.

377, You sparked some more memories about the harness. By the way, I did have to make half a dozen landings after being towed into the air by trucks and even an Air Force boat. I would describe the landings as one degree less painful than jumping without a chute. For as lousy as the chutes were for getting one to the ground in one piece, they were a marvel of utility and space saving engineering. We had oxygen, a rappel rope, emergency transceiver, yes... a flare pen (gyro-jets?), a 38 cal revolver, life raft, rations, signal mirror, fishing hooks, sewing needles, compass, water purification, solar still (not what we hoped for), coffee and some condoms. Slim Pickens was spot on by saying a fella could have a pretty good time in Vegas with all that stuff. The canopy had three different colors (white, olive and orange) so we could make shelters or signaling devices. I had enough fabric left over to make a crude but sassy evening gown with matching serviettes.

377, I probably don't have a clue what I'm talking about.... so let me say more. The capewells (I see them as quick release devices) are not necessary for attaching the reserve but (I assumed) a nice to have item for ridding a jumper of that failed canopy before deploying the reserve. I was drawing from my recollections of over 30 years ago. I probably have some faulty recall along with some good old fashioned lore added to the mix. The harness as I remember was laden with lanyards, knobs and other features which may actually interfere with a reserve or vice versa. I only used a ripcord (D-handle) once (on the ground) and was surprised at the amount of force required to pull the thing and how long the cable was that held the pack together. Additionally, I remember the handle as being over the left side of the harness with an orientation to pull across the chest from left to right. This might have been less than optimum with a reserve pack attached. I can say without hesitation that I have never seen a military reserve pack. Ever. Therefore, I have no idea what the mounting hardware entails or what any logical attach points may be on an aircrew rig. None.

Strictly as a technical question. What is the reaction to Cooper attaching a reserve to an aircrew emergency chute? My unbiased choices for answers are: A. No one with military flight experience would have considered such a configuration. B. A trained jumper would have asked for a more specific configuration. C. Chutes is chutes, what's your point? D. He could have attached both reserves to a harness worn beneath the raincoat and exited in a modified frog posture. E. Although the Navy harness lacked capewells, rendering the reserve superfluous; I feel that I have been cast adrift in a sea of humanity for nothing more than lacking better graces, placing me in a station where...... F. I like chocolate milk. G. Repacks and inspection of reserves are bullshit. H. The reserve Cooper used was for training and inoperative. Proof that he had a large set, just like me. I. Navy aircrew chutes would be used if you were going to land in the Columbia, Hellloooo. J. He attached both reserves and pulled all three chutes in a cunningly brilliant plan to disguise himself as Apollo 15 just before splash down. K. The chutes were a ruse to confuse police since 'Cooper' chucked a couple out of the plane before joining a convent. L. Chicks think I'm awesome. M. What on Earth is a reverse chute? N. If the aircrew had an emergency chute their primary chute must have attached somewhere. O. Oh, Oh, It's magic. P. He donned all the chutes under his rain coat and simply exited the plane as a wicked fat dude since the police were after a skinny hijacker. Q. I got your reserve attachment pal; right here. R. I would have attached the reserve to the leg straps so the ripcord is in a more natural position for grabbing and pulling. S. Look, every jumper has choices to make while dealing with lights flashing and blinking.... bliiinnnnking aaaaand flashhhinnnnngg. T. Either way, I would have done it nude, know what I mean? U. Repacks and inspections of reserves are still bullshit. V. If you get the reserve wet, the 5 second rule applies. W. No one knows what the hell a reserve chute is, but the ladies dig them so we wear them. X. Wait a minute, you mean to tell me there is a reserve chute? Y. Your talk about reserve parachutes frightens and scares me, I'm just a skydiver that you unfroze. Z. zzzzz... zzzzz... zzz. .zzzzz

Farflung: man, you really have a flair for writing and a dry (dare I say twisted?) sense of humor. How about writing a thinly veiled sarcastic article about our sport for Blue Skies, an edgy new skydiving magazine? Most jumpers are terrible writers (with a few notable exceptions). We need some fresh stuff. It can only come from the outside. 377 377, After a brief review of some past missives, I noticed two corrections to my postings. As in spelling errors or syntax changes. Not only were these done by seasoned jumpers, they did it without fanfare. With this in mind, I have to submit that jumpers are not only superior writers, but also gentlemen of rare breeding. I think there is within the cadre or psychos, umm that is jumpers, some perfectly qualified writers and representatives of the sport. To be able to pontificate the finer points of skydiving, Earhart, Cooper or the Pancake Bunny is reflective of a superior intellect that is more than willing to play pull my finger at the Governor's Ball. That is the essence your magazine must capture and with the assistance of some contributors on this thread you will achieve. In the interest of discretion I will only use their initials: airtwardo and ryoder. Gosh, I should have posted a and r. My bad.

The tragic part is that the Orbison Theory is the most logical, linear, attributed and compelling offering I've read to date. In 1979 this 'singer' released an album titled 'Laminar Flow' and obvious reference to the lack of turbulence experienced from the rear of the 727. All of his other album names are of the typical Rock-A-Billy lineage. Later his tune "In Drams" would be featured in a flick where Dean Stockwell sings into a drop light while wearing Kabuki makeup and clasping a six inch cigarette holder. While a manic Frank Booth who appreciates the finer qualities of PABST BLUE RIBBONNNN shows some strained attention. This has absolutely nothing to do with Cooper, just some free association with Orbison and one of the most disturbingly awesome film scenes ever. You're right 377, I really tubed the cost of a jump from the 70's. I get too many people calling me a liar if I quote any prices from that era. Go ahead and try to convince a 20 something how Motel 6 got its name or that there was a time when states had no speed limits.

Just Do It ...like 'Flung' says, training is over-rated and unnecessary! Therein lies the slippery slope. If you simply accept that Cooper must have had jump training just because there is no other logical conclusion. This facilitates the stories that Cooper had trained with the Rangers or CIA. Which begat special operations in a conflict we all would like to forget. Which spawns a contempt for a government he once proudly served. Which produces an underground network of jaded, jump trained, suburban anarchists, funded through hijacking airlines. Or...... He spent a Saturday at the Your-In-Airy Drop Zone and paid $40 for a jump.

I once asked "Other than wearing a parachute, what did Cooper say or do to indicate any experience?" The best (and only) response I received was roughly, 'Well, he didn't just jump without any training, duh.. chah.. gah as if.' That's my rough recall of the exchange . Next was to use the skyjacker who jumped with no training and actually made it home sans the cash as a case study of successful incompetence. That was that. Cooper had jump training cause for shure, like he would have to dude and stuff, so yeah. Challenging the premise that Cooper was other than a thoroughly trained and gifted jumper with a Special Ops background was on par with farting in church. Nothing cynical, just the product of numerous observations. The flight path presently being analyzed will be met (yet again) with proclamations of the plane actually being 22 NM east of V-23 according to some inside FBI information or well west of V-23 as it was 'standard procedure' (albeit unpublished) to avoid large population centers during hijackings. The above interactions drew a shuttering yawn by all those who tortured themselves by reading them. Good luck to Robert99 on his analysis. I would suggest sexing it up with a little inference to magnesium flares or how one of the radar technicians had Mafia connections or how the VORTAC signal was accidentally altered by the BFOs of transceivers used by prepubescent girls monitoring VHF communications. That will stimulate some discussion, the quality will prove to be far more illusive.

I'm at a loss to see where there is room for much in the way of discussion about the flight path. It has already been shown that Flight 305 was on center line within 4 NM and at reporting points within 2 minutes. Winds aloft were around 25 to 30 knots, on and on. Then there are those that 'believe' the plane was off course as far as XX NM either side of center line V-23 or that they did not use V-23 at all. Attribution, if it exists, is inside information or the product of data points cherry picked to match a pre-selected curve. The transcripts are of little value since they record ransom demands of $200,000 when it is well known that $400,000 was heard by a teenage girl at Shady Acres. Additionally, Cooper was an expert aviator that was able to 'steer' the crew to the perfect jump point since he was a pilot capable of flying a DC-7 out of Dutch Harbor, Unalaska, AK. The blanched story of the plane actually following a standard airway at speeds around 170 knots is simply too banal. They were given "all the space they want" when flying to Reno. The government had the transcripts edited to appear as if it flew V-23. It was standard procedure to circumnavigate major cities during hijackings. Winds around Portland were hurricane force. You already pointed out that there are those who cobble a curve they find attractive then proceed to stuff that curve with selected data points. Right. Those that believe Cooper was a super secret, triple agent will latch with a death grip on any person who was in paratrooper training. Then go on to use this painfully authenticated data point as proof that this must be Cooper. If you want a data point that indicates Cooper having been to paratrooper training from Cooper's actions or statements you would be given a wave file of cricket chirps. Same for anything indicating jump training, flight training or systems knowledge. But the existing culture has placed a deep seated belief that Cooper was clearly, obviously and self evidently extensively trained in all three. This again without the benefit of any exemplar or source but with copious quantities of blind, sophomoric faith. Now that Cooper is capable of defying the laws of physics without challenge, let alone unbridled outrage at any such suggestion, the desire for a quality discussion appears anachronistic when placed in the most sanguine of lights.

Ummm... Ahhhh.....

Robert99, Near the equator and doing a sun shot is the lowest fidelity LOP one can acquire. The motion of the body is slower versus the mid or higher latitudes. Who took the shot? Amelia through the front windshield? How were her skills with an octant? Sunrise shots have the greatest atmospheric distortion as well. Day celestial supplies just one LOP where night could offer three. Except they only had the side window to shoot from. What relative bearing and dec angles would be available in that configuration? The radios got dusted off because they were lost (my mantool opinion). Why didn't they discover they sucked at using radios during the first three quarters of the planet they flew over?

377, Could not agree more about the future postmortem on Cooper. The list of lottery numbers is very finite, the hard part is getting them in order at the right time. Even the 'less attractive to eccentrics' story of Earhart has some feral donkey theories. Things like east bound, equatorial flights using an octant for celestial navigation on an aircraft without an 'astrodome' while approaching the international dateline at sunrise is not sexy enough. Too dry, technical and frankly requires too much thinking. Cooper probably will be found like Fossett. Someone who has no connection will blunder upon something unusual and let the cops know. Even Fossett had a camp that believed he faked his death. The bounds of possibility and stupidity, truly know no limits. The glory aspect has me in a total vacuum of comprehension. Who wants to be known for finding someone or something that was well known? Actually, I don't understand why people want to be famous in the first place. I worked for Lockheed in Burbank for a time. You had this town filled with aerospace employees and attention whores in a weird mix of lifestyles and behaviors. I learned quickly when I thought I knew someone they were one of those people from the TV studios and not an old teacher or friend. One of the local eateries was used by both industries. During one lunch, an entourage crashed through the front door and marched while loudly chatting about stuff into a room marked VIP. One of the patrons asked the owner who they were and he said - nobody. But they went in the VIP room, was the next statement. Without missing a beat, the owner replied with "I bought that sign because is was cheaper than the one that said Asshole". We had cookies for lunch that day.