Go Fast and Turn Left

I have been flying model airplanes of some sort for 40 years (I started very young!) and radio controlled airplanes for 32 years. For 30 years, I have been trying to go fast and turn left—the motto of a pylon racer. I have raced just about anything that flies—from gas airplanes that go faster than 200 mph to the very slow, electric Vapor racing. What would make a man do such a thing? I had to have a serious talk with myself early this Monday morning. I drove two hours to fly in a gym and race Vapors. This is a plane whose claim to fame is that it flies at the speed of an out-of-shape geriatric with a bad hip! At full speed I can keep up to this plane without breaking a sweat. So what is the appeal in racing these aircraft?

I have identified three types of racers over the years. There is the Tinkerer who loves to try new equipment, new designs, new props or new motors. I started out as this guy - always designing a new plane, always stretching the rules. There was lots of room to improve back then: the rules were loose, designs were evolving, and materials for construction were pretty standard. I had some successes as a Tinkerer. Paul, an engine wizard, and I teamed up to build the Ultrax. This plane was hands down the fastest thing in the sky, albeit a bit hard to control.

The Spender has made a bold appearance in the sport in recent years. This is the guy who simply buys the best of everything currently produced in the world. With the internet and international competition, anyone with enough money can fill these shoes. This approach does not guarantee success. I have seen many a Spender re-kit (crash) their high priced stuff due to a lack of skill. A significant number of these competitors seem to be divorced. Go figure!

It is the presence of the third group of racers (my current home) that makes Vapor racing possible. The Flyer wants to race evenly matched equipment. Ideally, all planes are exactly the same—that way, when I beat you, it is because I am a better pilot. This group would race dust bunnies if we could figure out how to put a radio into them. It does not matter how fast the planes go, as long as everyone is going about the same speed, and it is best if the race is very close. I would far rather place second in a very close race than win a race by three laps. It is the heat of battle that is the thrill, even more so than the victory. Don’t get me wrong; this is a very competitive group of people, but the pleasure comes from the race, not the win. There is more honour in a victory based on skill than a victory based on weaponry.

I have wondered if this attitude has permeated past my flying and into my life. Those who know me will say, “YES!” I find that often my goal is to do more with what I have instead of having more: My car was the cheapest new car on the market when I bought it 18 years ago, and it currently has 510,000 km; I love to find free software to do the job of expensive, flashy software; I take great pleasure in getting water out of the ground cheaper and more reliably than the big NGOs. I don’t need to lead the race. I just want to win it in the last lap.