This is part 4 of my ongoing childhood rocketry saga.
I visited my cousin one time and he had a rocket. It was a small rocket, I can’t remember which model. Probably one of those Lil Hercules rockets or just a short one with a chute. He had a spot down by the railroad tracks where he would go to fly rockets because there was a large field on the other side of the tracks. We toted all the equipment necessary for launching a rocket from his house, through the woods to that area. We had a fresh lantern battery, wire with clips, igniters, rocket engines, the rocket, a launch rod, tools… The list goes on. Every rocketeer has a tackle box with a bunch of “might need” stuff in it. I had ridiculous sounding stuff, like sandpaper. Now I have to go off script and talk about my sandpaper. You see, the hobby rocket engines don’t light like fireworks. They don’t come with a fuse. They have this contraption called an igniter. An igniter looks like a tiny light bulb. Two wires stuck out of a glob that contains a heating coil. Except the coil flashes when you touch the two wires to a large battery. It burns quick and hot, causing the engine to ignite. Of course, you have to jam the igniter into the hole at the bottom of the rocket engine and tape it to hold it in place. The igniter flashes and burns up, the rocket flies, then you throw the igniter away. Anyway, instead of twisting wires onto the end of the igniter feed wires, you use a special set of wires with those little clamps on the end. They look like tiny alligator mouths that bite onto the wire. That way, you can unclip them when you fire one rocket and clip them onto the next igniter for the next rocket. Easy. Except when it’s not. One of the issues is that the rocket engine blows out this hot sulfur-like substance that is not conductive. So the clips get coated with that crud and stop working. This is where my deep knowledge of electricity must be employed. First I would attempt to use my thumbnail to scratch the black crud off the contact part of the clips. If I didn’t get a good connection, then I would employ sandpaper. The really fine-grain stuff, like 400 grit to sand that crud off. Anyway, troubleshooting a launch failure is one of the most frustrating aspects of the hobby. Fortunately, the rocket launchers that you buy at the store have a conductivity light on it. So you can test if the wiring is correct before hitting the launch button. Because the absolute worst thing that occurs is that you hold the launch button down and nothing happens. Well, back to the story. So, we took our equipment to his favorite launching site and set up the launch pad. He pulled out his pack of engines and tore off the cardboard backing. I looked at the package and saw that it was a pack of “C” engines. Wow, this should be interesting… Small rocket, big engine. Yeah. My cousin didn’t do anything small (except for the rocket), or should I say he never does anything uninteresting. That’s why he was my favorite cousin. I remember the sky being absolutely clear and blue. It was a typical hot Michigan summer day. We checked everything out and did the count-down. Then he held the button and man that thing flew fast. You could see the smoke trail going straight up into orbit. Within seconds, you couldn’t see the rocket. Of course it was painted white. Because the color of the rocket was chosen to look cool when it was on the ground, not painted to allow the observers to be able to see it when it was at 50,000 feet. Should have painted the darn thing florescent orange. So, as you can guess, we never saw that rocket again. Yeah, we looked for it. I remember watching the sky to see the parachute or the rocket as it came down, but it probably arced over and landed in Wisconsin. Maybe it achieved orbit and is still in space to this day. Who knows? It was an exciting day for rocketry. It was also a short day of flying rockets because he didn’t have another rocket and I didn’t bring any of my rockets with me. Well, I guess it was back to riding bikes.