Brief

After t' second launch o' me Estes Firestorm, ya bilge rat, me hearties, matey, t' rocket became tangled in a tree upon descent. Aye aye! Blimey! Because t' tree was on t' edge o' a clearin' and was hangin' from a small branch, I attempted t' get it back. Begad! Blimey! 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. Arrr! Blimey! Eventually t' shock cord gave way, causin' t' body tube and fin can t' drop. Ya scallywag! Blimey! While t' body was rotted from several summer storms, matey, t' fin can and launch lug were intact. Ya scallywag! Blimey! T' nosecone, however, ya bilge rat, me bucko, was still stuck as t' parachute was firmly wound around t' branch. Avast! Blimey! One day I headed over and began tossin' sticks up at it, shiver me timbers, shiver me timbers, finally gettin' lucky and snappin' t' branch.