Our first scheduled launch of the year on New Year's Day had been scrubbed by bad weather, and judging by the predictions early in the week, things didn't look great for the January 15th launch either. Temps wouldn't top 30 during the day and a sustained wind around 13mph would make the wind chill an uncomfortable reality and recovery an iffy proposition. January 16th looked marginally better, with temps in the mid-30's and wind at about half the previous day's levels. What it boiled down to was "Do you want to be really cold, or just cold?" We wisely chose to fly on Sunday.
Sunday was cold. I may have mentioned that. It was cold as I loaded the car down south, 21 degrees according to the data center on my car. I had washed an old pair of hunting overalls that had belonged to my father-in-law and had been stored in our garage for years. They were lined, quilted and warm. When zipped they also made my voice jump an octave or two. Apparently, they aren't made to fit my Goony Island physique. Popeye wept. In any case, I dragged out the old flannel lined jeans from the VOA days, a Champion base layer from the football days, thermal socks and a large hoodie, all of which was topped by a lined leather parka and my Fudd hat. Bring on your cold and hide the womenfolk.
Arriving at the field I found the bare bones of WSR. The hard men. The guys who would forsake a day of football by the fire for a day of flying in a frozen field with a winter storm taking dead aim. My people. My people had a fairly minimalist setup going, but all flavors were included. After being compared to a social disease upon arrival, I was instructed to get flying if I had brought anything because it was iffy as to how long we'd keep the range up. My people? My first flight would be the TLP BOLO that had been on the pad at our previous launch before the wind detached the launch lug.
This was my first TLP kit, and I built it as it came out of the package, as a short 24mm bird. That was unusual, as the 24mm E had been a favorite of mine for several years at that point. To this point I had only flown it once, and that flight had been a NARAM flight on a C11 to about 300'. This time, launching with the wind in my face and the rod turned slightly into it, the Bolo left the pad heading away from us back over the high-power pads. It topped out around 700-750', then tipped and was heading down when the ejection charge fired. The chute was a 15" thin mil nylon chute and it popped immediately, and the BOLO began racing back toward us to our left.
We watched the BOLO cross the beans and finally come to a landing at the edge of the grass near the road. I took off to recover it and couldn't find it, even with the bright yellow chute. After puzzling over it for a few moments, I began walking on the other side of the road and finally saw the yellow chute. Across the creek in the grass. It would have to wait until later.
My second flight would be the Estes Beta Launch Vehicle, a kit I had for several years, but one that I only got interested in building last fall. I opened it soon after I bought it via eBay, scanned it for YORP and have no idea where I put the decal, so I had to print a set off. Not perfect, but it doesn't violate the ten foot rule.
How should I say this? The Beta Launch Vehicle probably should have been a D12 bird, or at very least a C5. It's quite the pig. I didn't know of its piggish tendencies for this flight, so I chose a C6-5. The five second delay was two too long, but that wouldn't cost me. It left the pad slowly and struggled for altitude from the start, finally clawing its way to 400' or so. As it tipped over, someone said "I hope that's a three." I kinda wished it was, but the chute popped while it was still at a decent altitude and the BLV recovered in the beans, just off to our left and even with the mid-power pads. Next flight will be on a C5-3.
When painting weather returns.
Again, this rocket is fairly piggish. Must be my paint scheme. The C6-5 had been loaded in this one since before the new year. Like the BLV, this flight never quite looked comfortable on the C6-5. Altitude was around 400', and the ejection charge fired just as the rocket tipped over. Flight path was exactly the same as the BLV.
I was torn on this one. I rushed to get the fiddly bits onto the rocket before the Saturday launch, only to have an extra day to work on it, but no weather to get a coat of primer on it. This is another of the TLP produced rockets that I copied from the pics of the face cards on the old TLP site. It's a BT-60 downscale of the SAAB 372 that I should have built as a D powered bird, but for some reason I went with E power. Because of this, I had a moment of indecision at the field. I had an extra D12-5, but didn't have an adapter. Do I risk it in the fairly strong breeze? Was it even a moment that I thought this?
This was an interesting flight, and in the end likely the only one that will ever be made on an E motor. I put a decent amount of nose weight in it, but I was still a bit nervous about the stability. It left the pad and immediately began wiggling, and I braced myself for the ultimate windmill ending. It never came. The SAAB straightened itself out and took off at a 45 degree angle toward Federal Road. I was thinking landshark, but the ascent never wavered. Altitude was around 600', less than expected, but more than I thought it would be when it left the pad twerking. It looked to be across Federal Road when it ejected, but when I got to the landing site, I found it less than ten feet from the road.
With an E flight out of the way, I could try a cluster. I actually had two cluster birds on my traveling list for this launch, but completely forgot the Astron Ranger when packing up. Luckily I also brought the Semroc Defender.
This would be a 3xB6-4 flight, and it was an impressive liftoff, with all three motors lit and the flame quite visible in the overcast conditions. It left the pad heading straight out into the field behind the high power pads. Ejection came as it was still heading upward, but close enough to apogee to be non violent. The wind immediately brought it rapidly back our way, but to the right. It landed 150' in the beans on the other side of the creek and when I retrieved it an hour later I found that it had cracked a fin on the frozen furrows.
Next up was an oldie, an EAC Viper that I'd picked up as part of an eBay lot back in the days when old lots of rockets turned up frequently at auction. The Viper was a badly chewed bird that had lost a fin at some point, and had then been converted to a 3fnc bird. It last flew back in 2003, and I'd planned to fly it once, then build a new one around the old nose cone, but it was not a project that inspired a lot of movement. Back in 2020 when I was socially distant launching at B6-4 Field, the Viper was one of the mini engine birds I took along with me for a day of flying. On that day as I was trying to put a motor in, the whole motor mount pushed into the body tube, the brittle old glue finally giving up the fight after an unknown number of decades.
Sticking with the eBay theme, the next flight would be a vintage Estes Star Trek bird, not the Enterprise or Vulcan ship, but the odd plastic fin and nose cone ARTF rocket. I actually got the whole starter kit along with this one. It last flew in 2013, its only flight to date.
By this time, it had started snowing steadily, small pellets as opposed to big flakes that would make my 90-minute trip home turn into a three-hour tour. I still had two rockets that I wanted to fly, the mini-engine Scout III and the standard Semroc Scout. Both were recently finished and hadn't flown in more than five years. The Scout III would be first to the pad while the Scout waited its turn on the LCO table. The Scout hasn't flown since 2012, so a case can be made for it to have been the one I picked, especially since it would have been an A8-3 flight, but catsup ketchup, right?
This would be a quick flight, an A10-3T with nose blow recovery, hoping to keep it on the left side of the creek. As expected, it left in a blink, and I was able to track the flight after it cleared the pad by following the smoke trail. Then, nothing. For three seconds. The ejection charge fired, and we were able to track it as it fell back to the field. It wasn't looking good at first, looking like it would wind up in the middle of the creek, but it began following the fins and cleared the creek by ten feet plus.
I made the drive around the creek and recovered the Scout III, as well as two other birds. On the return trip I noticed Loopy looking toward the creek with a blank look on his face. I looked into the water to see what he was looking at and saw a kangaroo slip quickly beneath the surface of the water. I rolled down the window and asked Loopy if he'd seen it. He looked at me blankly as though seeing me for the first time that day. "See what?" he replied blankly. I later found out that kangaroos aren't native to central Ohio beanfields, nor are they known to swim. Apparently I'd seen an otter.