Dad, What Happens if You Hit the Power Lines?

I have always secretly loved the Japanese Zero. Why secretly? Well, I guess I felt a bit guilty about admiring the "enemies" design. All my airplane friends liked the American P51 Mustang or the British Spitfire. When asked about my favorite WWII airplane, I always answered, "the Spitfire," but secretly I was answering, "the Zero!" I like the design concepts the Japanese used then and still use in their cars now. The American fighters were big and armoured with tonnes of power whereas the Zero was light and maneuverable--partly due to the integral design. My first Datsun was a unibody structure unlike the American cars which were two big steel rails with lots of stuff bolted on.


At one time, there was a race class for Harvards. They were terrible airplanes. They tended to snap roll when full up elevator was applied if the C of G was not just right, but the racing was fun. I decided to build a Zero to race against the Harvards. I made a fuselage plug, then a mold from the plug, then finally a Zero fuse. I finished the prototype after about 200 hours of work (i didn't date much then) and test flew the airplane. I loved it! After the first flight, I knew I had a winner!


I was flying at an undisclosed location (I don't know the statues of limitations, so...) and there happened to be a set of high power electrical transmission lines. I got into a heated discussion with my flying buddy about electrical lines causing glitches with the R/C radios we fly . To prove my point, I flew under the power line with my new Zero. Then I flew over the power lines. Then, just to really drive the point home I looped around the lines. With my point made, I decided to do it again just for fun, but this time I pulled out a little soon and hit the power lines at 100 mph. The plane folded up and tumbled to the ground, but more shocking was the twang we could see moving down the power lines! We did what all responsible kids would do; we threw everything in the car and got the heck outta there!


After the unfortunate destruction of Mark's Zero at the hands of my American Bird Dog, I got thinking about building another Zero for this new combat event. I downloaded a set of three-views and started doing some very rough scaling. Twenty hours later (not 200 hours this time; with age comes wisdom) I took the Profile Zero out for its maiden flight. The sun was actually below the horizon, but I had enough light to do a quick flight. Three seconds into the maiden flight, I knew I had a winner! A little minor tweaking that night, and the next day I put her through her paces!

Today, in the middle of building concrete forms, I decided it was time for a short break--just 1o minutes for a quick flight just so my son could see her fly. I was snap rolling and looping and doing high speed passes when my son said, "Dad, what happens if you hit the power lines?" I flashed back to the first Zero I built and the power lines incident with it. "It's a bad thing!" I replied, knowing exactly what I was talking about. Not 2 minutes later, I smoked the power line in the yard at full speed, and, as before, the pieces rained down. I have been flying in my yard for 15 years and never hit the power line! What is it about the Zero?

I spent an hour this evening fixing the Zero and even added a few trim items. I will have you know that she flies as nicely as ever, but I am going to stay well clear of the power lines!

So Mark, you will have a friendly next to you in the sky at the next combat event. Until then, here is a nice shot of her flying off into the sunset.

Surprise...It's a Girl!

There have been a lot of boys born into our family but very few girls. I managed a nice balance in my own immediate family, but my siblings only produced boys--seven of them! All my grandchildren (so far--hint,hint J/G) are boys, and very cute I might add. I am not complaining; I have never been one to care what sex our babies are, only that they are healthy and happy, but that is not so for everyone in our family. I remember going to Value Village after an ultrasound confirming the sex of our soon-to-be-born son to pick out an outfit because we could get "the right color" now. My then young daughter anounced very loudly that she would be in the pink isle. We had to explain that the clothes that you buy them have no influence on the hardware babies come out with.

After years of trendsetting events, we have come to expect that those living creatures that come into our life are most likely going to be boys . Even when we are confident that our efforts would produce a girl, we were often surpised. For instance, my parrot, Corky, was purchased as a female when I had thoughts about using her to produce little parrots. Birds are hard to sex, that is true, but everyone said she was a girl. She was more feminine in build than the other parrots; slighter in the head; she only liked men, hated women. The breeders thought she was a girl. The vets thought she was a girl. Before we invested in another, however, we thought we would have her surgically sexed. Surprise...she's a boy! The vet was so surprised that she offered to do the surgery again for free in a year. She just couldn't believe it. Corky is a boy!


About three and a half years ago, my son got a Bearded Dragon for Christmas--a cool little guy by all accounts. I have never sexed a dragon before, but hey, with a book and the internet, how could I go wrong? All signs pointed to "Spike" being a boy, and what with the trend in our house, no one was suprised. As Spike grew, his maleness was reconfirmed at regular intervals. I recieved a phone call today from my wife asking me to guess what she found in Spikes cage: more than a dozen eggs! Suprise...Spike is a girl. More of a spikette I guess.

This is why I don't play the stock market. No matter how strong a trend seems to be, it is only a a trend, not a rule. Life would be much duller without suprises like this. One thing is for sure, no one will never die of boredom around here!

2009 Ken Brown Memorial E-junkyard Wars

When: Saturday September 26^th 10 am

Where: Brunswick Farm west of Carstairs (e-mail for map and instructions)

You are invited to enter a team for a day of FUN, FOOD, FRIENDS, and FLYING. Your mission--should you choose to accept it--is to build an electric airplane from junk you find on the farm, then compete with that plane in four fun events. Brunswick Farm will provide lunch, supper, junk and the prestigious awards. We are expecting the planes to be a bit bigger this year than they have been in years past so as to accomodate the larger, heavier bomb they will have to carry.

What can I bring?

• Radio gear
• Power train (motor(s), batteries, speed controller(s) - not to exceed 450 grams)
• Glue, building tools, sandpaper
• Pushrods, control hardware (in the interest of safety)
• A vivid imagination

This year there will be many precut wings in the junkyard.

No covering, other hardware, or pre-assembled components or building materials allowed! This includes templates!

What are the events?

Each team member must fly at least one event.

1)Time aloft after 1-minute of motor run. Two attempts; average of both flights will determine the winner.

2) Pylon races. Two attempts; average of both flights will determine the winner.

3) Bomb drop with ground fire. Two attempts; average of both flights will determine the winner.

4) Combat. Two attempts; average of both flights will determine the winner.

Some of the rules include (more to be made up, I am sure):

1) The plane can have as many motors as you want.

2) The plane cannot be modified in any way between events.

3) No power sources other than what is allowed for in Rule 1.

4) Plane can be hand launched or wheeled. No winches, high starts, or catapults etc.

Enter you team soon by e-mail at gordgil@gmail.com or phone (403) 335-6666

R/C Combat

Well, it was quite a battle today! I had a lot of fun--more than Mark, I bet. Poor Mark has not had good luck in the combat field yet. (Your day will come!) I had only put two flights on my new Cessna 182 (transformed into a Bird Dog) before I arrived at the field, and I have never flown combat with this group before. I was unclear on the rules, or even if my plane would pull a streamer, but there is nothing like trying something new. Chuck had everything organized--like a good school teacher would--and, after he explained the rules, we were off!

It is very hard to hit 20 ft of streamer at 40 mph. It turns out that it is not much easier to hit 200 ft of streamer! There is a large amount of luck involved, I believe, but I think that with time I could get much better. Will R. taught me combat with control line airplanes a thousand years ago, and it was very challenging working in 2 dimensions; add a 3rd dimension and things get very interesting! I was surprised how clearly you can hear when a plane contacts the streamer. You get points for a touch and more points for a cut, but both are rare.

I don't know who won or what the points were, and quite frankly I don't care. I would be happy with a free-for-all until the 5 minutes were up, but I guess that would be too barbaric or something. I do feel badly for people who place value on their airplanes--not the type of airplane to bring to a combat match. Everyone needs a Junk Yard Wars type airplane to fight with.

And speaking of Junk Yard wars, the date has been set. The Bolivian themed Junk Yard Wars will take place at the Gilchrist farm on Saturday, September the 26th. The events will include Glide Time Aloft, Pylon Racing, Bomb Drop and Combat. Mark your calenders! It will be a great time, I am sure!

Thanks to Chuck for setting up today's combat event! If you want to see a few more pictures of the day, here is a link.

P.S. The Bird Dog is back in the air! How is the Zero doing Mark?

Junk Yard Wars Revenge

The best day I have had in a long time (that was only about me) was the day I spent at the Santa Cruz R/C flying field. I’ve been asking myself why I need to go to Bolivia to have a good time. I mean, we DO have flying fields here. I even have my own. So why am I never at them? Chuck, my oldest friend (at least in terms of number of years we’ve known each other), has been very good at continually inviting me to the field, but I seem to be “busy” all the time. But here’s the thing: I’M NOT WORKING ANY MORE!

There is really no reason I can’t spend an entire day flying right here in my own backyard. I did go flying last Saturday and had a blast, but I am not there yet; I only managed two-and-a-half hours and couldn’t go for coffee after the races. But I did get to the field, at least. I managed seven consecutive hours of flying in Bolivia and never once thought about having to rush away afterwards, but this two-and-a-half hour block is a start. I didn’t have enough time to test fly my Micron (electric racer), so I had to fall back on my 3-year-old twin built during “Junk Yard Wars: the Brunswick Farm Edition”—a plane that Murray T., Bev B., my daughter and I built in three hours. The plane was never meant to last more than a day, but it is still one of the sweetest little electrics I have. I am so comfortable with the plane; I flew the last lap of the race inverted, just for fun.

I got thinking about the “Junk Yard Wars” we hosted here on the farm for a number of years and why we stopped. To host “JYW” is a family effort: set-up, clean-up, site prep, food, food, food (I like to eat), trophies and advertising. I think we just decided that we were too busy. But here’s the thing: I’M NOT WORKING ANY MORE! I love “JYW”! It is everything I am attracted to: competition, problem solving, camaraderie, cheap and…Did I mention food?

One of the best moments of “JYW” was watching the Brown family compete—all three generations—an enthusiastic grandson leading a patient and supportive father and a beaming grandfather. I don’t remember how they placed, but they won more than a trophy. Since then we have had many three-generation teams, and we always had a good time.

So, on that note, we will be hosting the “2009 Ken Brown Memorial E-junkyard Wars” in the last part of September. Dates and rules to follow in the next few weeks; so stay tuned. In honor of my newfound Bolivian flying friends, we will have a Bolivia/Canada theme, so start to do a little research and planning on how you may incorporate Bolivian colors or flags or something. This year we will do more flying and less building, but I promise, just as much eating! We are not here for a long time so we better have a good time! Everyone is welcome, so get ready to mark your calendar.

But I Love to Read!

When I was in grade 6, my mother was called into the school to discuss the possibility that I might be underachieving. They wanted to do some testing, including testing to determine if I had a reading disability. Upon hearing this, my mother uttered the now classic line, “Reading disability? Not possible; I love to read!” And she did. My mother did not get much time to read, but she truly loved to read.

History is destined to repeat itself: We were having a family discussion about where to go this summer and the comment was made that my son had never been to Banff. Stymied, I uttered the first words that came to mind, “How can that be? I have been to Banff hundreds of times!” And I have, but he hasn’t. Suddenly, I heard echoes of my mother… “Reading disability? Not possible; I love to read!” I took a great cosmic whack, and I think I even heard my mother chuckle, but perhaps it was just thunder.

The experience did start me thinking about how this could have happened, and what effect it might have on my son. We see life through the filters of our experience firstly, and then through our understanding of the experiences of others. What filters were added from my mountain experiences? In about grade 6, my school in Calgary took us students out to Banff, and I remember the science teacher talking about Pots and Kettles, and glacial till and fault mountains. The cool thing is that all of those features are still there, exactly like they were when I saw them many, many years ago.

Geology is interesting, but I learned many life lessons in the mountains as well. At a young age I learned that “if something seems too good to be true, it probably is!” If there is an empty campsite right beside the lake in an otherwise full campground, there might just be a good reason. At 2 a.m., I awoke thinking that I’d wet the sleeping bag only to discover that the whole tent was under water. The lake tends to rise when they close the flood gates; perhaps it was not a camp site after all.

So on my summer outing, as my son and I drove out the old highway to Banff, I heard all the old monologues from my science teacher in my head and repeated them. We stopped at many of the roadside POIs to read the plaques, something that we had never taken time to do when I was young. We stopped at the Seebee Dam, Lake Miniwanka, Toojack Lake, and Buffalo Mountain all before getting to Banff. My son was amazed as we drove past mount Yamnuska’s shear face and more amazed when I told him I had climbed to the top.

The two best things to do in the town of Banff is the hot springs and the candy store, and we did both of those. We went to Bow falls, and I told him about Bob, (not his real name) the tourist who tried to go over the falls in a raft. He succeeded in going over the falls, but did not live to tell about it. We spent the rest of that summer looking for Bob every time we flew from Banff to the heliport in Canmore where I worked.

I talked pretty much non-stop the whole day, and it occurred to me that my mountain experiences did have significant impact on the way I view life. My son has not had those experiences yet, but he could if I made it possible. I, on the other hand, never experienced first person shooter games in HD. Our children can never experience all that we did and will experience things we can not. Each generation experiences some of the old and some of the new, and I believe that is the way it should be. I do not want my son to be a carbon copy of me; I want him to be the new improved model. Better mileage, better for the environment, better for the future. He does not see through my eyes or hear though my ears, but he does love to read, mom.

Graduation, X 2

This weekend my daughter graduated, and on Monday I graduated, too. She has been going to school for 13 years and now must get a job. I have been going to school for 13 years as my job, and now I have to do something else. Interesting that we are so far apart in age but are now in very similar situations. She has a good ideas about what she wants to do and is planning how she might get there. I have no idea what I want, but I can bet the year won't be dull. I have 426 days to figure it out.

Day 426/425/424: Pick up grandkids to stay with us for a few days. My daughter and son-in-law seem to like this new career choice of mine but will only want to employ me on a part-time basis, I am sure. The best part of having grandkids is that you can spoil them, then send them back hopped up on sugar. I love having them around, but babysitting is not a new full-time career for me. I do plan on it being my parttime job, though. I do love those boys.

After I returned the grandkids today, I took my son to buy saftey glasses. He is not getting a construction job or anything; it is for play. He has an obsession with first-person shooter games, an odd trait coming from a house that is more pacifist than warrior. It disturbs me how much glee he takes in making someone's head explode with an automatic rifle on screen, so I am trying a new approach: over the summer, there is a new 'no screens during the day' policy (a necessary measure or the PS3 would never turn off).

We bought airsoft pistols and 11,000 rounds of ammo at Walmart (cheaper than a first person shooter game by the way), and spent a couple of hours stalking each other. It turns out that when you get hit in the real world, it hurts! There is no reboot button, and there is no way to pause the action when your dad is sliding across the hood of the truck you are desperately trying to close the window and lock the door of. It also did not occur to him that I might kick-in the door of the shed he was hiding in. War is hell! It is also kinda fun. I am not as young as I used to be, though. Right now I still have the upper hand, but if he ever wises up, I will definitely lose my advantage!

Well, the week will end by playing mover for the inlaws and handyman in the house next door. Maybe, if I get my shop cleaned up, I can even find a plane or two to fly. So far no one has said the words "data," "curriculum reform," or even "Daily Lesson Plan" to me this week, and it feels good. Until next week, keep the trenches warm. I expect to see you again in 423 days.