#162 Chuck Yeager

I reached the top of the ark and began to level off. I could have shaken hands with Lord Jesus. Eighty thousand feet. A nighttime sky with flickering stars at ten in the morning. Up there.

With only a wisp of an atmosphere. Steering an airplane was like driving on slick ice. I drop my nose slightly to pick up more speed and watch the meter register Mach two point two. than mock two point three. I was accelerating at thirty one miles per hour per second.

Approaching sixteen hundred and fifty miles per hour. The fastest any pilot had yet flown. and the fastest that any straight winged airplane would ever fly. My outside wing began to rise. I put in full aileron against it.

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