?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Part 2 of the new series:

I must have been about 13 when I decided to build a hang-glider. I mean, who doesn't want to fly? I subscribed to Popular Mechanics magazine, and in the back were various and sundry black-and-white ads for plans to build everything from water purifiers to go-karts to ultralight helicopters, so surely it was within an adolescent boy's reach to make a hang-glider in the garage while his parents were off at work, right? I mean, it's just a big kite. I loved kites, even made myself a box-kite once. So I set out to build myself a hang-glider. I was going to fly! How hard could it be?

Even back then in the Paleozoic, one could easily find dimensions and designs for such devices (far more modern and safe than the bi-wing shown in the photo), so I set out to find suitable materials to build my own aircraft. Fourteen-foot wingspan? Check! Cross-frame skeleton? Check! Tensioned upper and lower struts? Check! I even made a control bar from which I would hang and lean to steer the craft by the maze of control wires attaching the bar to the framework above.

I should clarify a bit: As I was a kid working with zero budget, the materials weren't exactly up to FAA standards. So rather than aircraft-grade aluminum tubing, I used scrap wood trim from a house under construction in the neighborhood. Similarly, rather than rip-stop nylon for the sail, I used clear plastic sheeting - also construction leftovers. Control bar? Wooden dowel. Control wires? Twine, as was the harness. And everything was held together with tape and staples. The height of 13-year-old engineering and manufacturing skills. Seemed plenty sturdy in the back yard!

A couple of friends were more than willing to help me haul it up the steep hillside near my house. I lived in a little neighborhood about two miles from Ortonville proper (western Minnesota, almost in South Dakota), so once we climbed up from the forested neighborhood, this was all grassland - until one reached the top of the hill, where the golf course (of last story's fame) lived at an altitude of about 500 feet above the river valley. Windy, too, across the road and above the trees: The perfect spot to catch an updraft, thought I. So up we trudged, a friend supporting each wingtip while I carried the craft from its center. It was reasonably light, seeming especially so whenever a breeze tried to snatch it from our fingers. (There's a bit of foreshadowing: This lightweight construction would prove to be its undoing.)

We reached the top of the hill and turned around to prep for launch. It was a warm, breezy June afternoon, pillowy clouds gliding past the sun, all manner of trees swaying in the breeze far below, Big Stone Lake huge and dark just a few blocks away, busy road between me and all that pretty valley stuff. Insects buzzing and all that. Probably a hawk soaring majestically overhead. I should note that this is exactly the worst launch point for gliding that I could have found, but, hey, we were too young to drive, and what did we know?


So I cranked up my courage and nodded to my friends, then started running downhill with them helping balance the wings. Almost instantly, the wind yanked me and my huge kite out of their hands as my feet left the ground. I was flying! It took off skyward nose-first, and if I hadn't been so busy thinking, "Holy crap! I'm flying!" I would have tried to keep from such a steep climb. Within seconds, the glider had rocketed upward nearly 10 feet... while at the same time the hill fell away even faster, as it was pretty steep. I think I laughed aloud, though I was pretty busy trying to figure out how to steer by shifting my weight.

But all was not Pepsi and bubblegum: The same helpful wind that dragged me skyward also applied pretty serious torque to the wooden skeleton and simple fasteners that comprised the structure of my aircraft. Just as I began to steer, I heard a mighty crack, and almost as soon as that sound registered as sub-optimal, I was Icarus, slain by hubris. Down we fell, wings folding upward where the cross-brace cracked and twine tore loose of its moorings; down, down, plastic sheeting flapping in the wind like some great, prehistoric, dying bird. The hard back of the unforgiving ground rose up to meet us, but I was falling too fast to land gracefully on such a steep slope. What followed was a tumbling and cracking and crumpling as hang-glider wrapped its arms around me - its staple-studded arms, broken and full of slivers and lengths of entangling twine as the sail tore free and engulfed me like a blanket. A blanket embroidered with countless pointy bits. Because I carried a good deal of momentum and we were on a long slope, we rolled like that for what felt like hours before coming to a stop at the lip of a drop-off overlooking the road.

I couldn't really move at this point, bound and bloodied as I was within my ruined flying machine, but I lived! And I had flown! What were a few (hundred) bruises and cuts? I had flown in my own home-made hang-glider!

Not that I've repeated this adventure, mind you. But someday I'll fly again. Just maybe with better materials. Or perhaps in a flying machine made by professionals.

Comments

( 24 comments — Leave a comment )
clevermanka
Aug. 18th, 2010 03:56 pm (UTC)
You should revise the subject line/title. This sort of youth is the exact opposite of ill-spent.
mckitterick
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:05 pm (UTC)
:-D

Well, I only just barely lived through it. Several times. So perhaps my youth should serve as a caution to others. Imagine if that contraption had flown for just another few seconds? I'd've been a goner.
clevermanka
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:09 pm (UTC)
Risky =/= Ill Spent. You had adventures! You learned! You didn't kill yourself! Even if you had killed yourself, I don't know that it would qualify as ill-spent. Tragic, but not ill-spent.
mckitterick
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:11 pm (UTC)
Well, I'm open to suggested alternatives for "ill-spent."
clevermanka
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:18 pm (UTC)
Ill spent, to me, would be a childhood consisting of complaining about being bored and never pushing yourself to learn, experiment, and develop your body and mind.

My suggested alternative to "ill-spent": Perilous!
(Deleted comment)
mckitterick
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:05 pm (UTC)
Thanks for the recommendation! I'll check it out.
(Deleted comment)
mckitterick
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:07 pm (UTC)
Oh, no: They were almost never aware of my goings-on in the garage ever since I was banned from making rockets (those stories yet to come...).

I just looked up Captain Scarlet: How could I have missed that series! Must seek it out....
(Deleted comment)
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:45 am (UTC)
Big house, big garage, almost-countryside, parents off at work....

I suspect it just didn't get play in the US.
roseconnelly
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:27 pm (UTC)
...ever since I was banned from making rockets

That line made my day.
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:44 am (UTC)
Heeee! That'll be my next installment.
nibot
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:12 pm (UTC)
awesome!
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:40 am (UTC)
Thanks!
normalcyispasse
Aug. 18th, 2010 04:26 pm (UTC)
I imagine you as a teenager building this craft while chain-smoking illicit Marlboros.

Excellent concept, by the way!
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:40 am (UTC)
Heh. Though I seem to recall that they were Kools.

Thanks!
edichka2
Aug. 18th, 2010 07:03 pm (UTC)
I just read this to the seven-year-old junior engineer, who was quite drawn in by the story.

But he's pacing around the room now, wheels turning, ready to go to the next level:

"Daddy, since I actually have a budget [just got an allowance, two bucks a week], unlike him, I might be able to get some proper materials eventually! Some strong tubing of some kind.... And also NAILS! Why didn't he use nails?!"

We'll be watching the garage carefully.

Cheers,
- E
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:41 am (UTC)
Aw, yeah. Proud to be corrupting the youth ;-) Give him my best wishes!

If he starts building something (though I've read a number of DON'T DO THIS sites; used gliders are cheaper than making a real one yourself), or if y'all decide to buy a used glider, post about it!
martyn44
Aug. 18th, 2010 08:55 pm (UTC)
Not 'Holy crap I'm flying' but 'Holy crap I'm stalling', and then the discovery that flying is a doddle compared to landing.

As a kid I (tried to) fly model aeroplanes - still would if I had the time - and they taught me enough to look at plans like that and walk away.

What the hell, it was an adventure and you survived!
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:42 am (UTC)
Good point!

Me, too, but that came later. I probably wouldn't have tried a hang-glider if I'd actually flown anything first.

Here's to adventure!
garyomaha
Aug. 19th, 2010 12:50 am (UTC)
You must come to Omaha and at least help M crew a hot air balloon, or, better yet, actually fly with him (once he can take passengers, which is soon, but not yet).
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 01:43 am (UTC)
You don't have to ask that twice. Just give me a bit of warning ahead of time, and I'm there!
(Anonymous)
Aug. 19th, 2010 03:29 am (UTC)
Great story. My friends and I had a somewhat similar experience with a giant kite we built. Things went great until we realized that even giant kites might need a tail.
mckitterick
Aug. 19th, 2010 03:30 am (UTC)
Neat! What happened? (And who are you, good visitor?)
( 24 comments — Leave a comment )

Latest Month

May 2017
S M T W T F S
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
28293031   
Powered by LiveJournal.com