Flight

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

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