I don't know how reliable the little altimeter this thing came with is. It has claimed a very unlikely 989 feet, as well as numbers as small as 347 even though it's all but impossible to see when the recovery parachute deploys. I've only fired it with 'C' engines (the beefiest in my little Wal-Mart arsenal, and I'm a little curious to see if I can actually perceive a difference with, say, a 'B' engine.
But then, I have a hazy (at best) understanding of the Newtonian laws governing these things. I know that if the parachute lines get burned by the engine, the whole deal comes down fast. I know if the cone doesn't get popped, it goes ballistic (literally) and that's bad if it comes down on, say, a person.
And I know to write my phone number on the rocket before launch, since on our last rocket launching, the Gonzo got on some sort of mini jetstream and went over a tree line and didn't even appear to be losing altitude when we last saw it.
The honyocks enjoy the count down, and Mo likes to echo the hiss of the rocket engine taking off.
No comments:
Post a Comment