A quick one while she's away - 11/17/24 Fabu launch

 Like it says, I got to go out and play because my wife went to a movie.  Not true exactly, but if she'd been home I likely would have felt guilty and joined in on the Thanksgiving cleaning.  I assuaged that guilt by doing a couple of loads of laundry and turning off the crock pot when I was told to.  All in all, a productive day.  And dinner is ready for tonight.

I took a mix of small-field A & B birds to B6-4 Field, arriving a little before 3 and finding the muddy confines empty but for a single runner.  Apparently, I got there at the end of her workout because she loaded up and left as I was setting up.  I set up in left center field because an occasional breeze was blowing from the west and would take my birds toward US 27 on recovery.  Flying low would lessen the chance of any traffic conflict.

Flight #1 was the Bad Boys Rocketry Super Astron Sprite.  I was pumped up about this one.  It had arrived last week, and I got started on it immediately.  It was an enjoyable build, but I made a change or two along the way, adding an elastic shock cord and a screw eye to the recovery system.  The printed resin nose cone bit back a little, breaking when I was sanding it, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a judicious bit of epoxy.  The finished product, though flying unpainted, turned out great.

I had some qualms about making the Super Sprite my leadoff bird as that position is usually taken by a wind test bird, but the winds were minimal on this bright, sunny Sunday.  The Super Sprite flight was straight off the pad with a slight arc toward the infield (north) and it was tipping over when the ejection charge fired.  It recovered without damage in left field.  My optimism soared.

Flight #2 would be another first flight bird, and a weird one.  The Stellar Dimensions Vector was an eBay purchase and is a rocket completely built out of sheet balsa.  I remember Stellar Dimensions being around right at the start of my B.A.R.hood, but only vaguely.  This was the first one I'd ever actually seen in the flesh.  It was a bit of a confusing bird.  When I was loading motors for the day I noted what looked to be a mini-engine mount, so I loaded an A10-3T.  Well, I tried to load it.  The motor slid through the hole easily, but then rattled around inside the engine compartment.  I tried sliding the white cardboard piece clockwise and was able to a) extricate the mini-motor and b) see how an A8-3 would fit there.  Once them motor was in place, the white cardboard piece was put back in place and slid counter-clockwise, theoretically locking the motor in place.  I had my doubts, but I was determined to fly it.  In hindsight I should have scanned the piece, but my hindsight has always been perfect.  Still is.

Since the Super Sprite had recovered to my right, I angled the pad left for the Vector.  I thought this would counter the drift to some extent.  If the flight had been normal, I have no doubt this would have been sound strategy.  One of my old friends from kindergarten days was walking his dogs with his wife and they wanted to see a flight after years of seeing me drive boxes of rockets to the field.  Unfortunately, this would not be a flight that gave a good overview of what I did at the field.  Or was it?  The Vector left the pad heading to the left as expected.  It was probably a heavy bird for the A8-3 and seemed to be struggling a bit on the way up.  At apogee it tipped over and seemed to stay in that position for a long second before the ejection charge fired.  I didn't see anything unusual about the flight, but when I watched the video later on my computer, I could clearly see the white cardboard piece head to the right at ejection and I could also see the motor casing fall to the field at about the same rate as the Vector.  The Vector body halves had failed to separate fully, and it tumbled quickly back to the field, landing 20 feet from the pad.  The motor casing landed about ten feet out from me, but I didn't see it until I was scanning the area for the motor plug.  I'm going to head back up to the field today because I think I have an idea where the cardboard piece landed, and I'd like to find it just to see if I can reverse engineer something just in case I want to try flying it again.

Next up in the A8-3 parade would be the Corporal from Aerospace Specialty Products.  This was bought on a whim a few years back when I learned that I was going to be marooned at a satellite office at work for an extended period of time and wanted to have something to fill the long, slow days.  It turned out to be a very enjoyable project and I've got my eye on another of their scale kits.

The Corporal flight looked to be in trouble early, as it followed the same path as the Vector.  The difference was that at ejection the chute filled instantly, whereas the Vector chute never deployed.  The Corporal began drifting back across the field toward US 27 at a disturbing pace, and I'm sure that I made a few utterances about it being the last flight, but the breeze died out enough that the touchdown happened deep at third base.

Flight #4 would be handled by my Estes E.A.C. Firecat, still doing without decals after two years.  This was one of the birds that I built after the Great Walmart Mini HoJo clearance of 2022.  I'm sure I wasn't the only one.  The issue with this bird is that for some reason I got it into my head that this was a mini-powered bird like the E.A.C. Viper or the Mini HoJo from which it sprang.  Actually, this isn't a bad thing here at B6-4 Field.  It makes it less likely to overfly the field.  Well, it's nice to think that.

This flight was my first taste of near tragedy on the day.  The A10-3T flight would have been perfect except for the breeze that was blowing across the field from left to right.  (Note to self; this is a calm day flyer.)  Boost was stable and leaned slightly to the left off the pad to 173'.  Ejection occurred as it tipped and the Firecat began a quick cross-field drift toward US 27.  I wasn't worried at first, but as it got closer to the edge of the field, my anxiety amped up, anticipating a US 27 landing.  That didn't happen.  The descending Firecat caught the top wire, slipped to the next wire down, then the next before finally stopping on the lowest wire.  That still put it out of my reach, and I started walking over to assess the situation.  I looked down as I started up the small hill at the edge of the field and as I stepped up I heard a clatter.  I looked up to see the Firecat sitting in the middle of US 27 with a Honda bearing down on it.  I braced myself for the crunch that never came.  The Honda crossed over the Firecat and except for some road rash, it was spared.  I marked the flight down as a success and resumed the launch.

The New Way Der SquaRed Max was next on the pad for its second flight, the first flight in full livery.  The decals silvered badly when I applied them, so I might try to give them a shot of Solvaset to see if I can salvage them, but for the purpose of this launch they represent the proud DRM history just fine.

To be honest, I didn't see much of this flight.  I think I'm getting a little old to be trying to launch and film things at the same time, because I apparently tracked a floater.  The flight of the DSM didn't much enter into the video past the launch, which I barely caught.  All I got of the rest of the flight was a slight bit of the touchdown at third base.  Flight was excellent, topping out at 168', and if the next two flights followed the DSM path, it would go down as a great day.  Sigh,

Flight #6 would be the Estes Rattler-7, a "night-before-the-launch" purchase that eventually set me on the path to full-fledged BAR-dom.  Back in 2001, we made our first visit to Akron to see my brother-in-law and his family.  Part of the weekend was going to be a visit to his club launch with the Skybusters, but nothing that I had in my storage room was flyable, so I just planned to go as a spectator.  Long story short, Tony and I discovered the JimZ plan site on Friday night and visited a local brick & mortar store on Saturday.  I picked up the parts I'd need for the Estes Condor that I'd printed the plans for the night before, as well as a 40th anniversary Alpha for myself, the Rattler-7 for my son, and a pack of C6-5 motors.  (Go big or go home.)  I built both rockets while the rest of the family went to mass and flew both the next day.  Both made the trip home with us, but the Rattler-7 came home minus the upper body tube and nose cone.  As you can see, the missing parts were replaced, but the planned repaint never materialized.

The Rattler has always been such a straight up/straight down bird that it never occurred to me that it might be a problem on a day like this.  Then again, any given Sunday, as they say.  At no point during the flight did I think it was in trouble, yet here we are.  The flight was excellent, straight and stable to 167', popped the chute at apogee and began drifting toward US 27.  I had an inkling that the Firecat had been in trouble, but I never expected the Rattler to catch the wire.  There was a moment when I thought it might be an asphalt recovery, but that fin can is pretty stout, so that wasn't a worry.  I haven't driven past it in a couple of days.  Not sure what the current status is.

Any sane human would pack up and leave at this point, right?  Nah.  Something compelled me to pull the Custom ATW out for an A8-3 flight.  Its predecessor met its doom here on an A8-3 about a decade ago, so nothing like poking the bear, eh?  This would be the first flight since 2015, so that long layoff likely had a part in the decision.

 As it turned out, this would be one of the best flights of the day.  It left the pad leaning back over my head and at one point was over the school/driveway.  Altitude was excellent, topping out at 352', not a surprise on a minimum diameter bird.  Ejection occurred at apogee as expected and it immediately found its way back over the outfield for a perfect streamer recovery.  

Ten days after the fact I'm really not sure why I decided this would be the last flight of the day, but I think that the breeze picking up and the sight of the Rattler swinging around on the wire likely had something to do with it.  I still had at least another seven birds in the box, several of them B6-4s.  It's likely that I just felt that my luck had been spread thin enough.  All things considered, 2024 has turned out to be a decent year from a launch standpoint, and days like this have done their share.  I'm nowhere near any personal records, but the flight numbers are going to be respectable, and I still have a possible cornfield launch or two and no telling how many Fabu launches in the month before the calendar flips.

11-2-24 Best cornfield launch day EVER!

 Yeah, I know this is going to follow my most recent post pretty closely, but this was just too perfect a launch day not to take advantage of.  Visibility - unlimited.  Temps - through the 60's all day.  Winds - not an issue.  Creek - dry.  Rockets - 10.

Yeah, I took ten rockets.  I made a list of all my corn birds that were flight-worthy on Friday and spent the evening gathering the rockets that made the final cut.  I couldn't locate a couple, (got distracted by anything and everything,) so I made a few substitutions.  The Kingpin worked out.  The SLS Taurus didn't.

My first flight on the day would be the Estes Mega Mosquito.  I last flew the big Mosquito here at the Cedarville field and I was embarrassed to find the mud still on the fin.  From 2019.  Doesn't say much for my housekeeping skills.  I had it ready to fly at our last launch at eRocket Field, but it got bumped that day for something else that caught my eye.  It was a no brainer on this day because it had been barfed in and had the E12-6 installed.

This was the perfect leadoff flight for me as it set the tone for the rest of the flights to come.  Having a successful flight right off the bat is huge, (although the hilarity of a first flight CATO does wonders for flightline morale.)  Nothing like that here.  The E12-6 flight lit on cue and followed a gently arcing flight path to the left toward the road and slightly away from the pad.  The flight topped out at 973' and ejected after it tipped over.  Recovery couldn't have been better as it landed just to the left of the flightline, just 100' into the freshly harvested cornfield.  No mud to contend with, and it seems that the harvesting equipment has gotten much better about clearing out the base of the stalks, which were always an early season hazard.  This recovery stroll was a pleasure.

My second flight would be the FRW Viking IV, an upscale of the FSI Viking IV.  It used to be longer, and it used to have an ejection baffle, but a flight up in northern Ohio about 12 years ago cost about eight inches of body tube and blew the ejection baffle out.  Somewhere out on YouTube a video still exists of the flight, the last video that particular keychain camera would make.  When the baffle blew out it took the recovery system with it, so the body stabilized and came in nose first.  The camera was facing downward, so the ascent was documented before the view turned to just sky.  The body tube nosed in and the tape holding the camera gave out.  The camera hit the cornfield and shattered.  The data was recoverable, but the camera wasn't.

The Viking IV flight was very similar to the Mega Mo flight, a gentle arc to the left to 991', but slightly further out from the pads.  Ejection occurred as it began to tip over and it recovered out in the corn, slightly deeper that the Mo, but still a short walk.  Best of all, no creek to cross.

I brought out the big gun next.  I built the Enerjet 1340 clone with one of the Estes Eliminator kits that Hobby Lobby stocked by the dozen a few years ago.  I knew there was not much that I could do to replicate an actual Enerjet flight, but I thought building it with a 29mm motor mount at least paid proper homage to the spirit of the brand.

This flight would be on an F15-6, so it would be a good ride, nonetheless.  As expected, it ripped off the pad heading straight out from the flightline, nowhere near the path that the previous two flights had followed, but quite a bit deeper into the field.  And WAY higher.  I estimated 1761' and another flyer estimated 1763', so we split the difference and decided on 1762'.  It was barely a speck in the sky at apogee and it appeared to still be moving up at ejection.  It was around this time that I thought it would have been a good idea to have reefed the chute.  As it was, it began slowly drifting back our way on the full chute, barely seeming to be descending at all.  I watched from the flightline because I was afraid I'd lose sight of it if I tried to walk and track at the same time.  I began estimating which field it was going to land in, checking for clumps of trees along the recovery path, trying to convince myself that it had been a good idea to make this flight in these conditions.  As it turned out, I should have.  It touched down in the field we were flying from, way out near Federal Road, but in no danger of landing on it.  The landing site was more than fifty feet from the asphalt, and all was well with the rocket.

Flight #4 would change everything, at least for my easy right-side-of-the-creek recoveries.  The Kingpin is a home brew upscale of the FSI Dart.  I picked up a built Dart on eBay that belonged to a New York science teacher and really liked the design.  I built a 1:1 clone using Semroc parts, then decided to try my hand at an upscale, which I seemed to eventually do with a lot of my FSI clones.  I took the name from a Manfred Mann deep track and found a logo in a Google search that wasn't doing anything.  The Kingpin initially flew here back in 2014 on a grey, overcast day on an E9 that sent it through the low cloud deck.  I first thought it was a goner, but decided to have a look for it due to the hi-vis orange paint that I felt would make it stand out against the dirt.  I ended up walking the whole cross-creek cornfield and found it on a last-ditch check into a neighboring field.  That flash of neon orange caught my eye, and it has been a staple of my cornfield birds ever since.  

Despite the launch rod being set to follow the path of the first three flights, the Kingpin left the pad heading right and crossed the creek almost immediately.  I knew it was too good to last.  It wiggled as it left the pad, but recovered quickly and began to lean further right.  It was fairly deep in the field at apogee and was heading down at ejection.  It then drifted back toward the flightline on the unreefed chute and landed 150' from the creek.  This was when I realized that the creek was low enough to walk across, which made the idea of cross creek recovery a lot brighter the rest of the day.

Past the halfway point now, and it would be the Centuri Orion on a D12-3.  This was the first clone I built using Moldin' Oldies parts.  This would be the ninth flight in 19 years, and the first since 2018.  You can tell that it was an early clone because the engine mount is built for only 24mm C and D motors.  This hasn't stopped me from making a couple of E9-4 flights over those 19 years.

The Orion left the pad heading left, but not enough to allow it to recover on our side of the creek.  It was a fairly straight flight that never got more than 200' into the corn to the left.  It topped out at 553' and despite Carter's assurance that it was going to come down on our side of the creek, I disagreed.  I was right as usual.  It came down 50' into the corn and while I was picking it up, I almost got hit by another recovering rocket.

I built my FSI Eos clone with the idea that the 29mm motors would be much more widely available than they turned out to be.  Back in 2018 they could be found on the pegs at Hobby Lobby, which made picking up the occasional pack quite convenient.  Once Hobby Lobby discontinued them, it became harder and harder to find them at a price that didn't make composite motors feel like a good deal.  

This flight had been loaded for a long time, and the Eos actually made a trip to the corn last year without a trip to the pad.  This would be an E15-6 flight, and it would follow the path the Orion blazed the flight before.  It leaned left off the pad, but it was immediately obvious that it had no chance to stay left by the end of the flight.  Altitude topped out a 1381' and it immediately began racing to get across the creek.  This was hampered by a strategic placement of the spill hole in a spot where the payload section would find a way to go through it, thereby making the chute less efficient.  Brilliantly played on my part, even if I didn't realize I was doing it.  The Eos came to rest around 50' away from the creek, right by one of the many fords, making it an easy recovery.  While I was recovering it, I noticed another rocket about 20' away, and while I was packing that one up, another came close enough to me that I heard it pass my head.

The Estes Vagabond would be my 7th flight of the day.  (The Vagabond, not the Vagabond, mind you.)  This is one of those kits that is perfectly at home here in the Central Ohio corn, but this would only be flight #3 in 12 years of cornfield flying.  

The flight followed the same "left off the pad" path as most of the flights on the day.  It arced out several hundred feet into the corn and topped out at 1137', ejecting as it tipped over.  It then began the trip back across the flightline to the dreaded opposite side of the dreaded creek, now not so dreaded with the drought.  Once again, I was able to recover another rocket after my trip across to recover the Vagabond.

The Coaster Saturn would wind up being my final flight on the day, but not because it was the last rocket I'd brought.  I still had two rockets left in the car, both of which had a fatal flaw in their prep, which I'll get to in a minute.  The Saturn was among the rockets I built during my 29mm motor mount days, and for some reason I always assumed it was a 29mm bird like its Coaster brethren, the Space Probe.  It was only today that I realized it was a 24mm bird, something that I figured out when I was checking the motor for the flight card.  What this means is that the Saturn sat around for seven years since the last flight because I hadn't checked the flight logs to see that it last flew on an E9.  SMH.....

Not a whole lot to say about the Saturn flight, other than it was on an E12-6 and followed the script of the day.  It leaned left off the pad and followed the proscribed flight path to 968'.  It was only a little over 100' deep in the left side corn and had tipped over when it ejected.  The full chute began drifting back over the flightline and across the creek.  It landed fairly deep in the field because of the drift ability of the full chute.  Spillholes, Bill.  Write that down somewhere.

I was done at this point and considered the day a wild success.  I managed to fly 8 rockets in a little over 4 hours, and I was still going to get home in plenty of time for my dinner reservation.  As I mentioned earlier, I'd brought ten birds to fly on the day, but prep issues had caused two to be grounded.  The SLS Taurus, which hadn't flown since a 2005 asphalt landing at NARAM necessitated a complete rebuild, still didn't fly because I hadn't checked to see that the rebuild hadn't included a launch lug.  (It had been a last second addition anyway.)  The other grounded flight had been one I'd anticipated flying as my leadoff, the FRW Uproar.  I'd been working on it for several weeks and had noted the lack of a screw eye in the nose cone multiple times.  I noticed it again today when I pulled the cone to add dog barf and the parachute.  Sadly, neither of these occurrences were first time issues.  Once again the victim of my own lack of attention to detail, but they should be high on the list for my next corn launch.