The New Year's Eve Parachute
The Thrifty Rocketeer continues...
An amusing follow up to my earlier blog entry about umbrella parachutes.
Just yesterday, as I was driving into work, I passed something on the roadway as I hit the entrance ramp to the expressway.
This is the same location where I stumbled across a crushed Alpha II rocket several months ago. (It was pretty trashed, but someone had written "Have a Nice Day" on the nosecone. But that's another story.)
I'm not sure why I noticed the aqua-blue material along the roadway, but something registered in the back of my mind. I made a mental note and hoped it would be there on the way back, cause I was already up to 40 mph and accelerating in traffic up to the highway.
Sure enough, coming back after midnight, I took the exit ramp, turned onto the shoulder and slowly inched toward the entrance point. There it was.
I turned on the flashers and trotted along the berm of the deserted roadway to where it was pinned in my headlights. I picked it up and noted it was a soaked, collapsed umbrella. I gave it a shake, and tucked it under my arm, returning to my car, setting it down on the floorboard and drove home.
I immediately walked it into the bathroom and opened the umbrella up. It was a smart aqua blue color and looked to be in perfect shape, except for an awful lot of grit and sand that coated it. I had guessed that it was there more than 24 hours before I ever saw it. We had just had two days of rain, and escaped flooding over the weekend after Xmas.
I opened it up and ran the shower, rinsing the grit and sand off. As I spun the umbrella, it became clear that at least two spokes were busted and given the brake in the metal, it couldn't be repaired.
I set the umbrella down to dry in the tub, and walked into my wife's sewing room. I plucked the seam ripper from her table and returned to the bathroom. "I see you've found another broken umbrella," my wife stated matter-of-factly from behind me. It was not a question. She had already seen it in the tub.
"I'm not sure yet," I lied as I sat down on the couch with the umbrella up and the seam-ripper tool poised to start freeing the fabric from the ribs. One minute later, I was sure. The broken ribs were trash. But the fabric was amazingly intact.
About five minutes later, I had the fabric free, except for the apex, where it was secured by an aqua blue plastic cap. I got a pair of side-cutters and freed the ribs with a single snip of the wire the secured it to the shaft. Trying to free the cap, I spotted what looked to be a single brad nail and pulled it with the side-cutters.
SPROING, the center shaft flew apart and shot the handle past my belly into the couch arm. I laughed despite myself, caught off-guard by the explosive decompression.
A moment later, I had the cap popped and the fabric was totally free from the skeleton. I trashed the ribs, handle and the spokes, and laid the fabric flat. It was blemish free, eight panels and laid almost perfectly flat.
Now, in earlier versions, I always found one or two panels that were ripped or poked, and candidates for removal. But not this one. It was in GOOD shape. Immediately, I started visualizing an eight shroud line chute, instead of the standard six shroud lines. I left the fabric to dry and went to bed.
In the morning, I folded the aqua-blue fabric up like a taco, and secured it with the original black Velcro strap. "Misty Harbor" is the name of the strap, that will have to come off eventually. It looked like a quality unit when I first saw it, and I'm eager to try it out.
Now I have to find the right-sized rocket to make to try it out on.
Happy New Year and good hunting!
An amusing follow up to my earlier blog entry about umbrella parachutes.
Just yesterday, as I was driving into work, I passed something on the roadway as I hit the entrance ramp to the expressway.
This is the same location where I stumbled across a crushed Alpha II rocket several months ago. (It was pretty trashed, but someone had written "Have a Nice Day" on the nosecone. But that's another story.)
I'm not sure why I noticed the aqua-blue material along the roadway, but something registered in the back of my mind. I made a mental note and hoped it would be there on the way back, cause I was already up to 40 mph and accelerating in traffic up to the highway.
Sure enough, coming back after midnight, I took the exit ramp, turned onto the shoulder and slowly inched toward the entrance point. There it was.
I turned on the flashers and trotted along the berm of the deserted roadway to where it was pinned in my headlights. I picked it up and noted it was a soaked, collapsed umbrella. I gave it a shake, and tucked it under my arm, returning to my car, setting it down on the floorboard and drove home.
I immediately walked it into the bathroom and opened the umbrella up. It was a smart aqua blue color and looked to be in perfect shape, except for an awful lot of grit and sand that coated it. I had guessed that it was there more than 24 hours before I ever saw it. We had just had two days of rain, and escaped flooding over the weekend after Xmas.
I opened it up and ran the shower, rinsing the grit and sand off. As I spun the umbrella, it became clear that at least two spokes were busted and given the brake in the metal, it couldn't be repaired.
I set the umbrella down to dry in the tub, and walked into my wife's sewing room. I plucked the seam ripper from her table and returned to the bathroom. "I see you've found another broken umbrella," my wife stated matter-of-factly from behind me. It was not a question. She had already seen it in the tub.
"I'm not sure yet," I lied as I sat down on the couch with the umbrella up and the seam-ripper tool poised to start freeing the fabric from the ribs. One minute later, I was sure. The broken ribs were trash. But the fabric was amazingly intact.
About five minutes later, I had the fabric free, except for the apex, where it was secured by an aqua blue plastic cap. I got a pair of side-cutters and freed the ribs with a single snip of the wire the secured it to the shaft. Trying to free the cap, I spotted what looked to be a single brad nail and pulled it with the side-cutters.
SPROING, the center shaft flew apart and shot the handle past my belly into the couch arm. I laughed despite myself, caught off-guard by the explosive decompression.
A moment later, I had the cap popped and the fabric was totally free from the skeleton. I trashed the ribs, handle and the spokes, and laid the fabric flat. It was blemish free, eight panels and laid almost perfectly flat.
Now, in earlier versions, I always found one or two panels that were ripped or poked, and candidates for removal. But not this one. It was in GOOD shape. Immediately, I started visualizing an eight shroud line chute, instead of the standard six shroud lines. I left the fabric to dry and went to bed.
In the morning, I folded the aqua-blue fabric up like a taco, and secured it with the original black Velcro strap. "Misty Harbor" is the name of the strap, that will have to come off eventually. It looked like a quality unit when I first saw it, and I'm eager to try it out.
Now I have to find the right-sized rocket to make to try it out on.
Happy New Year and good hunting!
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