ksblaze
06-22-2001, 02:26 PM
Thought I would share a few thoughts running through my head while I wait for the wind to drop and my knees to stop knocking.
As I sit anticipating the first flight of another RC airplane, I recall past first flights and how different from my expectations they were. It seems that the more time spent in the shop creating a thing of beauty, the greater the risk of destroying it the first time out. Fortunately, I've had many exceptions to this rule, though my appreciation of an untested craft always seems to be completely different from a well seasoned one.
The first plane that I built and flew fully by myself was a Gentle Lady glider. I had also constructed the Heathkit radio, from the circuit board up. My construction techniques were none too polished, though adequate. I did manage to create a beautiful white craft with transparent red wings and tail. For reasons I don't recall, the first test glide was with the radio off. Trim was perfect, no left or right deviation, no stall or dive. It also had a much flatter glide slope than I had imagined. After crossing 75' of the back yard, the leading edge crumpled against a tree trunk a foot off the ground.
The dismay caused by the initial damage didn't eclipse the excitement of the first flight, but the simple act of moving from potential flight to reality brought a profound change to my view of the craft. Worry about a crooked wing mount dowel proved not to matter, yet that weak joint in the tail that seemed good enough on the building board failed over and over until it was finally completely rebuilt.
Much later, I built a sport Quickie 500, giving it a classic red, white, and blue finish similar to that seen on a Chipmunk. Through major and minor crashes, the fun factor of this plane kept it flying again and again. Capable of speeds approaching 100 mph and nearly 1-to-1 thrust/weight ratio on a simple sport engine, it also had a wonderful glide and slow landing speed, thanks to feather light wing loading. This ship flew at least once a month for over three years, usually on wheels, but also on snow skis and floats.
The thing is, back when I was epoxying the dihedral brace between the wing panels, I couldn't predict that I would upgrade the tailwheel three times, wear through two sets of tires, be able to take off with instant full throttle and a hint of elevator and rudder in less than 10', or commit aerial photography with a camera strapped to the fuselage. That boundary, the almost physical wall that separates glue fumes from airspace under the wings, can only be crossed once, and you can't go back.
Right now, with my latest micro aerobatic craft waiting to punch (small) holes through the sky, I am confident that the aileron hinges are adequate, that the CG is forward enough to be stable, that the cowl won't vibrate into the prop, that the climb rate will be satisfying. Right now, the finish is perfect, the battery has been peaked, throws double-checked. Yet it will be a completely different plane afterwards, no matter how successful that first flight is.
Happy Landings,
Karl
:cool:
As I sit anticipating the first flight of another RC airplane, I recall past first flights and how different from my expectations they were. It seems that the more time spent in the shop creating a thing of beauty, the greater the risk of destroying it the first time out. Fortunately, I've had many exceptions to this rule, though my appreciation of an untested craft always seems to be completely different from a well seasoned one.
The first plane that I built and flew fully by myself was a Gentle Lady glider. I had also constructed the Heathkit radio, from the circuit board up. My construction techniques were none too polished, though adequate. I did manage to create a beautiful white craft with transparent red wings and tail. For reasons I don't recall, the first test glide was with the radio off. Trim was perfect, no left or right deviation, no stall or dive. It also had a much flatter glide slope than I had imagined. After crossing 75' of the back yard, the leading edge crumpled against a tree trunk a foot off the ground.
The dismay caused by the initial damage didn't eclipse the excitement of the first flight, but the simple act of moving from potential flight to reality brought a profound change to my view of the craft. Worry about a crooked wing mount dowel proved not to matter, yet that weak joint in the tail that seemed good enough on the building board failed over and over until it was finally completely rebuilt.
Much later, I built a sport Quickie 500, giving it a classic red, white, and blue finish similar to that seen on a Chipmunk. Through major and minor crashes, the fun factor of this plane kept it flying again and again. Capable of speeds approaching 100 mph and nearly 1-to-1 thrust/weight ratio on a simple sport engine, it also had a wonderful glide and slow landing speed, thanks to feather light wing loading. This ship flew at least once a month for over three years, usually on wheels, but also on snow skis and floats.
The thing is, back when I was epoxying the dihedral brace between the wing panels, I couldn't predict that I would upgrade the tailwheel three times, wear through two sets of tires, be able to take off with instant full throttle and a hint of elevator and rudder in less than 10', or commit aerial photography with a camera strapped to the fuselage. That boundary, the almost physical wall that separates glue fumes from airspace under the wings, can only be crossed once, and you can't go back.
Right now, with my latest micro aerobatic craft waiting to punch (small) holes through the sky, I am confident that the aileron hinges are adequate, that the CG is forward enough to be stable, that the cowl won't vibrate into the prop, that the climb rate will be satisfying. Right now, the finish is perfect, the battery has been peaked, throws double-checked. Yet it will be a completely different plane afterwards, no matter how successful that first flight is.
Happy Landings,
Karl
:cool: