One day, high above Arizona , we were monitoring
the radio traffic, of all the mortal airplanes below us.
First, a Cessna pilot asked the air traffic controllers
to check his ground speed. 'Ninety knots,' ATC replied.
A Bonanza soon made the same request.
'One-twenty on the ground,' was the reply.
To our surprise, a navy F-18 came over the radio, with a
ground speed check.
I knew exactly what he was doing.
Of course, he had a ground speed indicator in his cockpit,
but he wanted to let all the bug-smashers in the valley,
know what real speed was, 'Dusty 52, we show you at 620
on the ground,' ATC responded.
The situation was too ripe.
I heard the click of Walt's mike button in the rear seat.
In his most innocent voice, Walt startled the controller
by asking for a ground speed check from 81,000 feet,
clearly above controlled airspace.
In a cool, professional voice, the controller replied,
'Aspen 20, I show you at 1,982 knots on the ground.'
We did not hear another transmission on that
frequency, all the way to the coast.