Gone Fishing
Topic: Hobbies
I went yesterday too. I discovered that I need to put more line on my new rod... it will throw a worm much, much farther than I had anticipated. One cast resulted in my line running out, and if it hadn't been secured to the reel, it would have been gone. I like my new fishing rod.

I might post more later, but right now, I'm going to go back to the lake.

Oh, by the way; happy Memorial Day.

The Eagle Has Impacted
Topic: Hobbies
It's been a long time since I did any model rocketry launching. But every time I have done it, I've had an interesting, if not really fun, time.

I recall once when I built and launched a model of an SR-71 Blackbird. It looked very good, and was sleek and aerodynamic. I tried to get it as close to an actual Blackbird as I could.
Well, I succeeded... too well. I launched at a football field, and used a short thrust engine with low power, because it was the rocket's maiden voyage. It was a relatively windless day, the sun was shining, and a good day of launching was in store. I set up, put the key in the launch control, called "Clear! Launching in 3... 2... 1..." and hit the ignition.
The rocket went up about forty or fifty feet, and a sudden breeze hit it. It flattened out and turned into the breeze, and flew horizontally. This was way cool.
Except that it was heading right for one of the football field's goal posts.
"AAaaaah! Burn out! Burn out!" I begged the engine. It was kind to me, and burned out. Unfortunately, it had a 3 second delay until the parachute deploy charge went off. "DEPLOY! DEPLOY!" Finally, about twenty feet off the ground, the 'chute deployed. It had just enough time to open and break the fall. I went to the rocket, and Jim and I said the same thing every rocketeer says upon recovery after a bad launch...

"Check the fins."

I'm sure many of you know exactly what I'm talking about.

The other night, while on a lunch break, I noticed one of my co-slaves browsing model rocketry web sites. He turned me on to Buy Rockets, a web site which lists a lot of other web sites for rocketry enthusiasts who wish to, as the name suggests, buy rockets. He showed me a 'rail launch' system, where a metal rail, mounted securely to a platform, was used. A guide designed to slide on the rail was mounted to the rocket. This system was used instead of slipping a plastic straw glued to the rocket over a thin, flimsy metal rod. He said that gave a more stable launch. This is something I'd like to try.

There were once commercially available kits that included everything from egg payloads (WHY!?) to cameras which allowed you to take high altitude photographs, presumably of the ground instead of the sky.

This was the kind of hobby I really liked, because a portion of it was spent in a crafting mode; you built a rocket, sometimes of your own design, in the comfort of your own home using simple and inexpensive materials. It required careful assembly to make sure that the recovery system operated properly, and the engine fit snugly, and any of several other aspects were done correctly. Misaligned fins would cause crazy flights, and would occasionally frighten innocent passersby, thereby increasing your fun (assuming you weren't arrested). It was painted or decorated in a manner you personally found appealing, and you could name them, tweak them, and personalize them in countless ways. It was more than just a craft, it was an art.

Then there was the launch. You could do it all year round, so long as the wind was low. Summer time, you had parks. Winter, a frozen lake was the perfect launching field... flat, and no obstructions.
Balsa wood and cardboard tube would be hurled into the sky by a solid fuel engine, propelling the rocket to high altitudes that you could record with a sextant-like altimeter, assuming you could still see the damned thing once it reached the apex of its flight. The recovery, whether parachute, streamers, or just letting the thing fall to Earth and hoping it wouldn't land in the river, was an exercise opportunity. Close your eyes and imagine several adults and near-adults, staring into the sky, running like idiots without watching where they're going, and compound that with the fact they're all running to the same location, hoping to catch the rocket mid-air or be the first to the touch-down site... and imagine the collisions. Yes, there was even comedy.

And there was even tragedy. The image you see is one of disaster. I found it at this web site, which showcases a rocketry group's launch experiments. Obviously, this is an example of an experiment gone bad. When you consider all the time spent designing, assembling, meticulously aligning fins, sanding surfaces to make sure they are snug but not too snug, painting, drying, sanding the finish, repainting, sealing... any busted landing is an emotional trauma inducing moment. A cracked or broken fin is a disaster. It'll take at least an hour (that's right, a whole hour!) to fix, and it'll never look as good as it did when you first had it finished. All you can do is wring your hands miserably and cry "Why? Why, God! Why?" I've seen people break their legs and have less of a reaction than I've seen for a broken fin.

On the bright side, it probably didn't cost you much. Getting started is cheap. You can buy sheets of balsa wood and other materials as individual components, and design your own. For a little more, you can buy pre-designed and packaged kits. For even more, you can get fully assembled kits (but what's the fun in that). The most expensive part of the hobby is the launcher and the engines. Both aren't really that expensive. If you wanted, you could carry your happy ass to the nearest hobby shop and be ready to launch within half an hour, probably for less than thirty dollars. And after that first launch, you feel yourself pulled in, attracted by the idea of building a larger, faster, higher flying rocket... eventually, it will get quite expensive, especially if you're going for some level of certification.

But you can't help it. You go from enthusiast to maniac in just a short time, and suddenly, it's like heroin without the needles. It's all you can think about. It's all you want to do. It takes over your life and controls you, like an alien parasite in your nervous system. I firmly believe it's the cause of most hobby shops: the owners just wanted to find a way to make it pay, so they could afford to keep launching. But like a pusher that dips into his own stock, they keep ordering the best gear for themselves, and never really make a profit, which is why most hobby shops look like a toymaker's attic. They ignore the niceties of mercantile business, and take in just enough to keep going for another day... you see them behind the counter, a haunted expression on their faces, looking first at the clock, then the window, then their rocketry equipment... then back to the clock, never breaking the circuit until you want to buy something. They ring you up, but they still dream of the launch. And Heaven help you if you're buying rocketry gear, because then they'll try to have a conversation about it! But you don't want to talk! It's a nice day! You don't have to sit behind a counter! You're going to go launch! "Shut your gob, you register monkey!" you want to scream. "Don't delay my launch because you're stuck inside!"

And at that moment, you realize that you're no better than he is... perhaps better paid, perhaps more free time... but still addicted. You're a launch-junkie, and there's no seven-step program for people like you. You end up in the gutter, begging for plastic nose cones and solar igniters.

Hmmmm... on second thought, I think I'll wait a little longer before I start into launching again. The nightmares have just recently stopped, and I might want to keep that monkey off my back a while longer. I will eventually start launching again, because it's in my blood and I can't help it... I feel an unnatural, possibly unholy, need to hurl cardboard tubes at high velocities into the wild blue yonder. But not yet. For now, perhaps I'll take up some other hobby that's less dangerous, more fulfilling, and more socially acceptable. I'm thinking alcoholism, or maybe pimping.

SR-71 Blackbird
Buy Rockets
Experiments