Flight

T' Alien Space Probe might be a great performer, but I never got t' see it.  After two flights, ya bilge rat, each fraught with danger and damage o' some sort, matey, me bucko, I have me doubts about flyin' it anymore.  T' first flight was on a C6-3 on a breezy May day back in 2009.  T' ASP windcocked badly off t' pad and never attained a height greater than 150'.  It was nose down when t' ejection charge fired and t' loud "CLUNK" as t' nose cone rebounded back into t' body be clearly audible on t' flightline.  No one saw anythin' fall as t' rocket descended, but it be obviously short a leg.  T' actual landin' zone was only a couple o' hundred feet from t' flightline, shiver me timbers, and I walked t' whole flight path tryin' to find t' missin' leg.  Somehow I managed nay t' find a bright red leg on a carpet o' green.  Damage was limited t' one leg, me hearties, but other than t' upper portion o' one o' t' fins, arrr, me hearties, everythin' was gone down t' the glue fillets, ya bilge rat, ya bilge rat, and t' nose cone had a large scar from t' impact.

T' carcass sat gatherin' dust in me garage for over a year until I stumbled across t' star-crossed decal and got t' urge t' make t' repairs for t' summer season at B6-4 Field.  I bought a dowel and used some balsa and paper discs from shop scraps and built a new fin unit.  After cleanin' up t' scarred body tube I attached t' new unit, ya bilge rat, primed, matey, filled, matey, sanded and painted it.  From ten feet it looked perfect, which was all I was hopin' for.  It was at this point that I tried t' attach t' vintage decals.  Bleah.

Flight number 2 came at B6-4 Fest in October, 2012 on another C6-3.  Zog and I had been blessed with a virtually windless pre-Columbus Day Sunday and took advantage o' it.  T' Alien Space Probe was t' second flight o' t' day for me, me hearties, me bucko, and appeared t' be in trouble almost from t' start.  Lift-off was picture perfect, me bucko, me hearties, but it immediately began anglin' toward t' trees and US 27 behind us.  It cleared t' trees with ease, arrr, me bucko, matey, but t' only things across t' pike were roofs, a pool and a lot o' asphalt parkin' lots.  T' trees obscured our view o' t' recovery portion o' t' flight, shiver me timbers, but t' sound o' t' impact, me bucko, on t' asphalt parkin' lot, was again clearly audible.  I be expectin' some damage and when I reached t' landin' site I wasn't disappointed.  Or rather I was.  One leg had received a compound fracture, ya bilge rat, while t' foot o' one o' t' other legs was hangin' by a tendon.  I gathered up t' remains.  T' date I haven't done anythin' t' repair t' damage.  Maybe by 2015.