I recently passed what my wife says was the start of my 2.5 year countdown to retirement, so every day at work is like reopening a wound that had just started to heal. On Monday evening during my post-work healing session, I saw a Facebox message for a launch for the retired members of the club on Wednesday, which was like a chainsaw attack during my post-work recovery. A Wednesday launch? But I have to be up at 4:30 for work. I hated everyone who would be attending at that moment. I spent Tuesday at work fuming over the indignity. When I got home it occurred to me that I had a personal holiday that I could use at my discretion. I cleared it with my boss and slept until a civilized hour.
Wednesday turned out to be a perfect launch day. I arrived at the field expecting to see rockets already in the air, but I'd actually beat the truck to the cornfield, which allowed me to help with the setup. Temps hung in the upper 70's, and as we set up the pads, I began to wonder if my fishing hoodie, vest and jeans had been a good idea from a fashion standpoint. It was clearly a shorts and t-shirt day. I ventured onward.
First on the pad for me would be the FRW Viking 6, a design I'd done in homage to the FSI Viking lineup. This has been around since 2012, the whole time flying on a steady diet of E motors and today wouldn't be any different.
As I mentioned, this would be an E12-6 flight. We had issues with pad 4 the whole day and it sat through a couple of rounds until we changed the clips. I had angled it into the breeze to cut down on my recovery steps and it left the pad heading across the creek, although not aggressively so. Altitude was about 937' and it appeared to pop the chute as it was sideways. There was some doubt as to where it would land at first, with the opposite side of the creek, the creek itself and the parking area all in the mix right up to the end. To that end it landed two parking spaces from my car on the access "road".
Next up would be the Estes Super Neon XL, a real oddity in my fleet in that it has yet to suffer damage from a flight and still wears the original paint job I gave it Good thing, because it's probably my most fully realized paint scheme and unusual in that I didn't follow the face card.
This would be an E12-4 flight, in fact, everything I flew on this day would be E12 powered. The SNXL was on the same pad with the same rod angle as the Viking 6, but I was able to catch more of the flight on video, probably because I was ready and so was the launcher. The SNXL left the pad noticeably slower than the Viking 6, but followed much the same path across the creek into the neighboring cornfield, reaching an altitude of 973'. It tipped over as it ejected, then began a swinging recovery back to the field. I took my eyes off of it for a moment and when I looked back, it had disappeared. I began turning, scanning the skies and trying to find the green chute in the blue sky. Nothing. That's when someone noted that it was on the ground, 20 feet from me in the corn.
Flight #3 would be the Estes Optima. It was one of the first birds I clone when I saw the size of the field we'd be flying on in South Charleston. For some reason it never has been a regular corn flyer, even if it was built specifically for it. It was an afterthought today, grabbed just before I finished choosing my victims.
At the end of the day the Optima flight was the one that the flightline would look back on fondly. Well, most of them. Not the highest flight of the day. Not the loudest flight of the day. Not the best aimed flight of the day. Boy, was it not the best aimed flight of the day. This flight would be an E12-4, which has always seemed to be the best delay for birds of this size going back to my E9 days. The rod had been adjusted to straight up and I neglected to lean it toward the opposite side of the creek before launch. As a result, the flight was largely straight. It did cross the creek, but nowhere near far enough to prevent the tragedy that occurred on recovery. The Optima drifted back our way and the LCO and I watched as it dropped toward the flightline, trying to keep the descent in frame and failing to my usual degree. By the time we realized it was going to land in the parking area, it was too late to sound a warning. Carter and Joe and been hanging out in the shade of an EZ-Up, enjoying the unexpected warm weather and watching rockets go up. Unfortunately, the Optima was heading down. It hit the EZ-Up and the roof of Carter's car at about the same time. The Optima lost a fin at impact, but Carter refused my request for his insurance information. Rather rudely, I might add.
The Estes Vapor was released several years back through Hobby Lobby and I only bought one because I was buying motors and was in the mood for a new rocket for the launch that weekend. I built it on Thursday, put the yellow on on Friday, and sprayed the black the morning of the launch, trusting that the sun would dry things enough to fly it that afternoon. Got it in one. It's become a cornfield favorite, Estes E-capable done right.
This flight would be an E12-6. It left the pad heading straight out, climbed to 915', popped the chute as it tipped over, and recovered a short walk into the corn. Cornfield perfection. Recovery was handled by a black and white checkered chute that I bought on eBay in the early 2000's. There were ten in a pack and they were made from a picnic tablecloth. I was impressed with the purchase and inquired about buying more, but the guy quit selling them because someone expected 10 vintage Estes checkerboard chutes for $10. No, it wasn't me. I've since bought a pack of tablecloths to make my own, but the quality of the pack I got is about 50% of what my old ones were. When I get back, I'm going to make a posterboard pattern to make cutting them out easier.
The next flight wasn't one of my own, but it was cool nonetheless. Jay Berry brought his Estes Tomcat Swing-Wing Fighter to fly on this near perfect glider day. Apparently it had been donated for auction and Jay firewalled the credit card to ensure victory. I took a pic, but all that showed up was an empty file. I did get a video.
The video doesn't do it justice. The flight was awesome. If I'd known the guys behind me were going to break out in "Danger Zone" I'd have kept filming, but I was already on the way to punching the stop button. My mind doesn't work that fast.
The Duende Negro would be my last flight of the day, although it wasn't planned that way. Lee Reep sent me a set of reverse image Goblin vinyl and I decided that they needed a cool rocket to decorate. I believe Duende Negro is Spanish for Black Goblin, but don't quote me. It's E-powered, so not likely to fly at B6-4 Field any time soon. This would be its second flight, the first one having been something of a failure for ripping off the launch lugs and snapping the elastic shock cord. It was one of my winter reclamation projects.
The Vapor and the Duende Negro back-to-back in the corn is about as good as it gets. The E-12 is impressive in the Vapor, even more so in the Goblin, which is 1/3 the size. It ripped nicely off the pad, and was out of sight to 1153'. It ejected while still a dot in the sky, but the large, heavily reefed chute made it at least trackable. It landed out near the road, a healthy drift, but not as bad as I had feared.
By the time I got to the landing site, I began to get the feeling that my day was done. The dry mouth and headache were pretty good hints that having overdressed and forgotten my stop for drinks were putting me at risk for heatstroke. I've had it happen several times over the years, and it was never pleasant, so I walked back to the car and bid WSR an Irish goodbye, in search of a drink and lunch.
