Years ago I worked for BT, and as a graduate management candidate, had to visit a number of relay stations to investigate RF failures. One of these was at Whinfell above Kendal in the Lake District. In winter, this station is one of the few in England to have its own SnoTrac to reach it, at about 1500 feet. However, on a bright June day in the early 1980s I drove up with a local engineer to look at the site. Though sunny, the day was hazy, and the other sides of the valleys were invisible from the ridge on which the station is located. We looked at the gear, I made a few notes from the callout log, and then I commented on the pile of oddly-shaped bricks I'd seen stacked outside. "Well you see", said my colleague, "when the Russians decide to attack (mid Reagan-era Cold War, remember), I'm supposed to come up here, build a shelter from the bricks inside the station and stay here and maintain the infrastructure." "To be honest", he continued, "first blast at Barrow (where they build the nuclear subs and about 20 miles away, clear line-of-sight), and the aerials outside are gone."
As you can imagine, this lowered my mood a little, and we had a quick cup of tea, and went outside.
As my eyes were still adjusting to the sunshine after some time in a windowless machine-rooom, the sun simply went out, and there was a rush of air and a very loud roar.
Having just got used to my new undead state, I caught sight of the Tornado that had just cleared the antenna array by less that 100 feet at about 400 knots (thereby eclipsing the sun) and disappeared down the valley, when his wingman about half a mile behind did the same.
So glad I don't live across the street from them.
ReplyDeleteSo are they :p
ReplyDeleteSlightly more scary
ReplyDeletehttp://io9.com/5639113/the-scariest-video-you-have-ever-watched-in-the-name-of-science
Years ago I worked for BT, and as a graduate management candidate, had to visit a number of relay stations to investigate RF failures.
ReplyDeleteOne of these was at Whinfell above Kendal in the Lake District.
In winter, this station is one of the few in England to have its own SnoTrac to reach it, at about 1500 feet.
However, on a bright June day in the early 1980s I drove up with a local engineer to look at the site.
Though sunny, the day was hazy, and the other sides of the valleys were invisible from the ridge on which the station is located.
We looked at the gear, I made a few notes from the callout log, and then I commented on the pile of oddly-shaped bricks I'd seen stacked outside.
"Well you see", said my colleague, "when the Russians decide to attack (mid Reagan-era Cold War, remember), I'm supposed to come up here, build a shelter from the bricks inside the station and stay here and maintain the infrastructure."
"To be honest", he continued, "first blast at Barrow (where they build the nuclear subs and about 20 miles away, clear line-of-sight), and the aerials outside are gone."
As you can imagine, this lowered my mood a little, and we had a quick cup of tea, and went outside.
As my eyes were still adjusting to the sunshine after some time in a windowless machine-rooom, the sun simply went out, and there was a rush of air and a very loud roar.
Having just got used to my new undead state, I caught sight of the Tornado that had just cleared the antenna array by less that 100 feet at about 400 knots (thereby eclipsing the sun) and disappeared down the valley, when his wingman about half a mile behind did the same.
Now THAT was scary.
http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1883536
In the 80s, the mast array was a little lower and wider, with horn antennas.