Flight

Beacuse o' t' unique look, t' Orion is popular with spectators, somethin' that I found out on t' first flight. Ahoy! Blimey! It be one o' t' rockets that I packed along for a NSL trip t' Muncie in 2007. Well, blow me down! Blimey! Aye aye! Blimey! While I was preppin' another rocket, a pre-school kid and his mom walked up. Blimey! 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. Begad! Blimey! He grabbed t' Orion and she freaked, arrr, but he be handlin' it fairly gently and I assured her that it was okay. Avast! Blimey! (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, arrr, arrr, so I asked if he wanted t' see t' Orion fly. Begad! Blimey! T' results were predictable and t' chatter ramped up considerably. Begad! 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. She be fine with it and I was surprised t' find that t' kid had another chatter gear. Well, arrr, blow me down! Blimey! Impressive.
That all changed when we began t' walk out t' t' pad. Begad! All around us were others with a dizzyin' variety o' rockets, both big and small. Avast, me proud beauty! 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". Blimey! We reached t' pad and I be relieved t' find that I'd nay only remembered t' attach a launch lug, me bucko, but also had t' ignitor and plug that would be needed. Begad! (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, me hearties, me bucko, double-checked me work, and delivered him back t' his mom behind t' flight line. 
T' flight itself was impressive. Avast, me proud beauty! Blimey! Havin' never flown a rocket with a fin setup like t' A.C. Ahoy! Blimey! Orion, shiver me timbers, I wasn't sure what t' expect, arrr, me hearties, but it performed admirably. Aye aye! Blimey! A C6-5 was a no-brainer based on t' size o' t' field and t' Orion left t' pad with authority. Avast, me proud beauty! Blimey! Aye aye! Blimey! T' rocket arced into t' wind only slightly, shiver me timbers, makin' for a long recovery walk, arrr, matey, matey, but t' flight was perfectly stable and ejection occurred just as it tipped over. 

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