Ah, the flood of memories...
Not quite as expensive and a more successful ending:
Maybe early High School years, I'm watching my Dad and a friend prepare to launch a free-flight model aircraft. Note: Before the days of reliable radio control, modelers often competed in tests of 'length of airborne time.' Everyone used a fairly large (4 to 5 foot wingspan) non-realistic model with a particular size engine that had a timer that would pinch the fuel line at a prescribed time. Obviously, the higher one could climb and the better the glide ratio, the longer one could remain airborne. Large, open spaces were also helpful!
Well, back to my Dad's friend and his scratch-built aircraft. He wasn't competing with anyone, he was simply testing and tweaking. After about 30 seconds, it was apparent that the timer had either failed to start, failed to work or
someone failed to trigger it before launching the plane skyward.
Let's just say that there was enough fuel in the tank to take the plane high enough that we could no longer even hear it running! The guy had basically launched a low altitude 'weather' ship, at least a wind indicating one.
While My Dad and his friend packed up, I took off in my '51 Ford chase car. I'd drive about a half mile in the last direction I had seen the plane floating and try to find it again. Drive, stop, search. Drive stop, search. Drive, stop, search. This trip started on the southeast side of town and I was now miles from the northwest corner and becoming concerned that I would not rendevous with the aircraft which was getting lower and lower and thus harder to see from the tree-lined country roads.
I had now switched the routine to drive, search, avoid the ditch, drive, search, avoid the car, etc.
But I finally made the last turn and stopped with the plane only 50 feet above me and drifting to the west toward some trees about 100' off the road. I would never be able to drive to the other side of those trees, assuming I could even find a road going in that direction, and spot the plane before it 'landed.' So, I just got out and waited and watched what would happen.
Fortunately, being late Winter, there were no leaves to block ones view. However, these being 'wild' trees, they were very densely packed with limbs. This made it impossible to actually see the plane from the road but I felt sure it was in those trees.
Unbelievably, without cell phones or radios, my Dad and the 'pilot' managed to find me just about the time the Sun started to sink below the treetops. We all ran across the field, hoping there were no bulls around, and into the underbrush below the trees. We searched until our necks were sore from looking skyward for so long but we never could find that plane!
As we slowly walked back to the cars. I turned and looked back and said, "I'm sure that it glided down
right there! And sure enough, there it was! It was severely damaged by the tree climbing but the engine, tank and timer were still usable. And never again did anyone forget to trip the timer on these free-flights!
