This entry added on:

12-27-06

Here’s how stupid I am:

Rocket Propelled Piper Tri Pacer

   When I was in junior high I built a rubber powered Guillows Piper Tri Pacer. I got tired of flying it with rubber power so I fixed an Estes D-12-O rocket motor to the bottom of the fuselage. To launch it I held it behind the wing with my hand on top of the fuselage while my friend lit the motor with a match lit fuse. I figured that my hand would be safe from the exhaust blast because the fuselage was between my hand and the motor. My theory was good, but I hadn’t figured what would actually happen.
   An instant after the motor lit something hit my arm. Confused I looked into the sky and air around me; there was a perfect, vertical, 20 foot diameter smoke ring that went from my outstretched hand to my tricep and then beyond. The Tri Pacer had looped and stung me. My short sleeve shirt had a chunk burned off at the end of the sleeve and was smoking. My arm/tricep had a 3 to 4 inch black mark where the sleeve met my arm and the shirt was burned. My arm didn’t hurt too much so I figured the mark was rocket fuel ash. I found the Tri Pacer and went inside to wash off the ash/dust. The black mark didn’t come off like I expected. As I washed my arm it started to bleed. I still had some layers of skin but had a nice third degree burn. I wore long sleeve shirts for the next month so I wouldn’t have to explain what had happened to my parents. I’m still in awe that a rocket motor could expend that much heat as it grazed my arm at what must have been a pretty good clip.

David Versus Bees

   I had a stupid encounter with bees once. After getting stung I tried to burn a bee’s nest.  I didn’t have much fuel on hand so I tossed a spray paint can on the fire expecting it to blow and make a big enough fireball to incinerate them all. The fire was dying, however, and the can wouldn’t get hot enough to explode. So, I pulled out my 22 and a hollow-point CCI Stinger round. From 50 feet I hit the can square and it burst into a nice fireball. Something stung me in the ankle, however. I looked down and my shoe, sock and leg were on fire and I had a nice gash high in my ankle. I patted out the fire on my leg and surveyed the damage; my leg, sock and shoe were splattered with paint and I had a cut worthy of stitches. Just behind me was half of the spray paint can. I wasn’t that surprised that half of an exploded can could fly that far and cut me. I was baffled, however, that it traveled so fast and so far on fire and that enough paint rode along to spatter me. The doctors and nurses were in stitches when I explained how I cut my ankle and set my leg and foot on fire with burning spray paint. They called in other staff members and had me retell the story.
 

This entry added on:

12-22-06

My room when I lived on Glazanof Drive on Hillside, the last place I lived in Alaska.

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 Another view

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This entry added on:

11-30-06

My room when I was a kid, 4th through 7th grade.

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F4U Corsair - on fire

Hawker Typhoon - on fire

A6M Zero - on fire

This entry added on:

11-25-06

My sister Sheryl and I celebrating Christmas morning.  We think that I look about two, maybe three.  So that would make this the Christmas of 1967 or 1968. 

Dig my slippers and Sheryl's headdress.

View of Spenard from the Batmobile.

An ME-109 model that I built with damage.  Note the 1970's carpet.