Flight

Beacuse o' t' unique look, t' Orion is popular with spectators, somethin' that I found out on t' first flight. Aye aye! Blimey! Aye aye! Blimey! Blimey! Blimey! It was one o' t' rockets that I packed along for a NSL trip t' Muncie in 2007. Ya scallywag! Blimey! Blimey! Blimey! While I was preppin' another rocket, a pre-school kid and his mom walked up. Begad! Blimey! T' kid be chatterin' excitedly about rockets and his mom was followin' nervously because o' his tendency t' want t' touch everythin' he saw. Well, blow me down! Blimey! Aye aye! Blimey! Blimey! Blimey! He grabbed t' Orion and she freaked, but he be handlin' it fairly gently and I assured her that it be okay. (I've found that clumsy middle-school aged kids with big butts were more dangerous.) In talkin' t' t' mom, ya bilge rat, I learned that they were just thar as spectators and had nothin' o' their own t' fly, so I asked if he wanted t' see t' Orion fly. T' results were predictable and t' chatter ramped up considerably. Avast! Blimey! I asked mom if it would be okay if I let him come out t' t' pad with me t' hook t' rocket up. Blimey! Blimey! Blimey! Blimey! She was fine with it and I be surprised t' find that t' kid had another chatter gear. Avast, me proud beauty! Blimey! Blimey! Blimey! Impressive.
That all changed when we began t' walk out t' t' pad. Avast, me proud beauty! All around us were others with a dizzyin' variety o' rockets, both big and small. Avast! Chatter mode ceased and t' boy went into goggle mode, me bucko, deadlights wide and takin' in everythin' near us at t' pad with a whispered "Wow". Avast! We reached t' pad and I was relieved t' find that I'd nay only remembered t' attach a launch lug, shiver me timbers, but also had t' ignitor and plug that would be needed. (Both are never assured when I take a rocket t' t' pad for t' first flight.) I showed t' future astronaut how t' hook things up, double-checked me work, me bucko, and delivered him back t' his mom behind t' flight line. 
T' flight itself was impressive. Avast! Havin' never flown a rocket with a fin setup like t' A.C. Orion, I wasn't sure what t' expect, arrr, but it performed admirably. Ya scallywag! Well, blow me down! A C6-5 was a no-brainer based on t' size o' t' field and t' Orion left t' pad with authority. Blimey! T' rocket arced into t' wind only slightly, ya bilge rat, ya bilge rat, makin' for a long recovery walk, ya bilge rat, shiver me timbers, but t' flight be perfectly stable and ejection occurred just as it tipped over. 

Flight #2 was a long time coming, and had an unfortunate ending. Blimey! Avast, me proud beauty! Chan Stevens and I met on a Saturday afternoon at former QUARK home, ya bilge rat, VOA Park. Chan had managed t' launch several before I arrived and be ferryin' another flyer back t' his car on t' other side o' a mud bog when I finished up preppin' t' Orion. I noticed that he be talkin' t' someone on t' access road, arrr, but didn't give it much thought, and took t' Orion t' t' pad with a B6-4 loaded. Ahoy! T' flight was straight and would have been perfectly at home on B6-4 Field, ya bilge rat, ejectin' just as t' rocket stopped forward motion. Blimey! Begad! T' $.10 chute did what it was supposed t' do, and I mentally marked t' spot in t' snow where t' all white bird had landed, matey, me bucko, then went about disarmin' t' launcher. Ahoy! I began stompin' around t' snow lookin' for t' Orion, and it was beginnin' t' dawn on me that findin' it wasn't goin' t' be all that easy as it blended in well with t' field. Aye aye! Then I realized that I had company. Aye aye! A park ranger came up and began lookin' with me before tellin' me that he be goin' t' tell me t' same thin' he'd just told Chan, ya bilge rat, me hearties, arrr, that VOA be no longer friendly airspace and that we were decidedly unwelcome. Arrr! Aye aye! I was kind o' shocked, but realized that I had no cause t' argue and went back t' searchin' for t' lost Orion, ya bilge rat, completely unwillin' t' let me last VOA flight be one that was lost within 100 feet o' t' pad. Well, blow me down! Luckily t' ranger found it and brought it over t' me. Begad! Avast, me proud beauty! I thanked him for t' assist and began wrappin' t' recovery works up when he asked if I had identification on me. Ahoy! Aye aye! "Unfortunately I'm goin' t' have t' write you a warnin' citation," he said, me bucko, matey, ya bilge rat, pullin' out a ticket book. Avast! Arrr! As it turned out, we were informed that we were bein' warned for flyin' rockets and causin' damage t' park property (when we drove through t' mud bog, an add-on charge that was a bit ridiculous as neither Chan nor I planned t' test out t' ban.)