The angle of attack readout on the PFD wasn’t the first thing that caught my attention. No, that would be the unending cry of the audible stall warning as we just couldn’t catch a break. We began a steady descent, nose high, and slowed somewhere below 39 knots.
We were flying rather well, all things considered; I could maneuver the F2 around within this part of the envelope, practically begging it to fall off and drop its nose past the horizon. It didn’t comply. Instead, with a little push of the stick and throttle, we flew right out of the deep end of the slow flight regime as soon as the airplane was asked.
