"Then God's countenance shone upon the phace of the Phantom, and Lo, it was good." Well...okay, a bit overly dramatic, but there is something magical about the brilliant shafts of sunlight that burst through the openings in clouds. Called appropriately enough "God-rays," these beams give a punch to an otherwise drab image.
In this instance, one of the sucker holes happened to be positioned just right and these three F-4s parked off the main ramp were the beneficiaries of this special effect. The dilemma was whether to get closer and isolate the aircraft from bothersome distractions (e.g. telephone wires) and wait for a stronger, more direct God-ray or get images of the other aircraft on the ramp before our time was up. I chose the latter. But there were a couple of other shooters who did try to wait it out for a more dramatic picture. Hopefully we'll see their results sometime in the near future on the Society's webpage (www.f4phantom.com).
Sucker holes do occasionally pay off, albeit for a brief period of time. As I mentioned yesterday, the window we got lasted about 20 minutes - enough to capture about ten Phantoms. Then the sun went away for pretty much the rest of the day...or at least it was gone when we were on the ramp. It did pop out for a time while we were inside a hangar inspecting the F-22 sans cameras. Yes, it was laughing at us.
This F-4E (serial 71-1075) looked very pretty with its orange wingtips and tail and shark mouth markings.
The F-4 Phantom II Society held it's annual convention at Holloman AFB, NM, this past week. Holloman averages 360 days of sun a year, or so they say. We had about 20 minutes of sun on Wednesday, the first day of the convention, and lots of clouds. It rained in nearby Alamogordo and the surrounding mountain ranges were dusted with snow.
Thursday was better, but very cold. Showers and clouds occurred most of the day, but we did have some sun.
The above image of the QF-4 Phantom was taken on Wednesday. The opening in the clouds on the right is the so-called "sucker hole." A sucker hole is what fakes the photographer into believing his subject will be bathed in glorious light if he only just waits a little bit longer. More often than not the crossing light never appears where you need it to or the hole closes up and it disappears entirely. In this case I decided the sucker hole would make a very nice atmospheric image rather than the more documentary type that I was originally trying to take.
This is also known as "making lemonade." I am quite pleased with the result.
"But wait," you say, "These are just junky airplanes!" Well...yes; and no. Let me explain....
The mighty McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II, affectionately called "Rhino" by ground crews and air crews and all fans of Mr. Mac's "phantastic Phantom." was one of the best fighters of its day. Ungainly looking but powerful, the airplane was capable of Mach 2+ speed in a clean configuration (which wasn't often - a lot of ordnance can get loaded on this bird). Over 5,000 F-4s were built and they served in three branches of the U.S. military and in several foreign air forces. Some are still in active service, but most have been retired. Those in the U.S. inventory that haven't been turned into target drones are parked here, in the expansive grounds of Davis-Monthan AFB, outside of Tucson, AZ.
I got to visit DM for the first time last October as the F-4 Phantom II Society held its annual convention that year in Tucson. DM is legendary among aviation aficionados as the last stop for most military aircraft types. If you are shooting the entire career and life-cycle of an airplane, a trip to DM is a must as it represents the end of the line.
Personally I don't normally shoot dead airplanes. I find it too sad. I prefer planes in active service; full of purpose and alive - and a Phantom in full roar is indeed alive! Unless there are specific types I'm following or a certain unit or serial number I'm after, I usually pass on getting slides of mothballed or junked aircraft.
But it is truly amazing to behold acres and acres of America's finest resting quietly in the desert sun. Cocooned against the elements in case of further need or just to preserve them for parts until they are finally cut-up and disposed of, they stand as silent sentinels to the dedication and ingenuity of the U.S. aerospace workforce. One of the great untold stories of our age is the cost and sacrifice made regularly by the engineers and assembly line mechanics during the course of the Cold War and beyond. Perhaps one day people will know.
Or perhaps not. As time passes, both aircraft and builder become more and more forgotten by the public at large. Hence my reference to the "legendary lost Rhino graveyard." Whether we admit it or not, we are in some way duty-bound to preserve and remember the past - or to at least learn from it. For how else will we know what path to take in the future if we don't know where we've been?
One of the more coveted spots for the aviation photographer is the "end of runway" location known as "last chance." Last chance is the final groundcrew inspection area where all final "remove before flight" ribbons are pulled off the airplane and the weapons are unsafed (not necessarily armed, but the safety is removed so they can be armed then or later). The neat thing about last chance is the coordinated ballet of the groundcrews, the traditional salute by the crew chief to the pilot, and the sense that the airplanes are alive. In a very real sense they are: growling, screeching, menacing and full of raw, barely controlled power. It is a very visceral experience, especially if the planes line up and light their afterburners for take-off with you in a rear quarter position. Then you can not only see, hear, smell and taste the aircraft, but you can feel its power vibrate in your gut and chest. It is glorious!
This was shot last year at Luke AFB near Phoenix, Arizona, as one of the pre-convention events held by the F-4 Phantom II Society before the main event in Tucson. The Lockheed Martin (nee General Dynamics) F-16C "Fighting Falcon," more informally known as the Viper, is spooling up it's engine as it pulls away from last chance and taxis to the hammerhead at the end of the runway. The heat plume from the exhaust is visible as mirage-like distortions behind the airplane.
This shot was another instance of seeing what was possible when conditions were less than ideal. The F-4 Phantom II Society had it's annual convention at Holloman Air Force Base, NM, in late October, 2004. While we were there, a mid-day rainstorm passed through. Good overall documentary shots were not going to be possible at that moment, so I wandered the ramp looking for interesting angles. This one caught my eye: a diligent contractor wiping down the canopy of this F-4F Phantom as he prepped it for its next training flight. I liked how he was framed by the rear canopy as he cleaned the front one, so I composed the image while he worked away and snapped off a couple of shots. I was quite please with the results.
Other people must've like it, too; I've had it picked as "honorable mention" in the Aviation Week photo contest for that year and it's won in a couple of local contests, as well. Sometimes magic happens when you open your mind to the possibilities....
"Then God's countenance shone upon the phace of the Phantom, and Lo, it was good." Well...okay, a bit overly dramatic, but there is something magical about the brilliant shafts of sunlight that burst through the openings in clouds. Called appropriately enough "God-rays," these beams give a punch to an otherwise drab image. 
