Brief

After t' second launch o' me Estes Firestorm, matey, t' rocket became tangled in a tree upon descent. Ahoy! Because t' tree was on t' edge o' a clearin' and was hangin' from a small branch, me hearties, me hearties, I attempted t' get it back. Ya scallywag! Begad! This spanned a few weeks and involved everythin' from tryin' t' snag it with an extendable lightbulb-installin' pole t' attemptin' t' hook it with a fishin' rod. Eventually t' shock cord gave way, ya bilge rat, me bucko, causin' t' body tube and fin can t' drop. While t' body was rotted from several summer storms, shiver me timbers, t' fin can and launch lug were intact. Begad! T' nosecone, however, ya bilge rat, arrr, was still stuck as t' parachute was firmly wound around t' branch. Begad! Begad! One day I headed over and began tossin' sticks up at it, finally gettin' lucky and snappin' t' branch.