<pre><font face="Times" size="3">This is mduslick's story re edited/posted to make it easier to read!

<u>mduslick's story</u>

At the wonderful age of seven years old, I was invited to visit a little boy in my neighborhood for the first time
who eventually became my best friend. As my older sister held my hand, we walked up to his house and saw both him
and his father trying to retrieve one of those small, rubber band powered planes from the roof of their house. This
was my first introduction into aviation. Back then, toys were displayed on the end of one particular aisle in the
grocery store where we shopped, and when I saw one of these planes that my friend had, I begged my mom to purchase
one for me too. After making many promises I knew I wouldn’t keep, I was treated to a small, rectangular cellophane
bag that contained the pieces of my dream that was destined for flight. In the back seat of the car on the way back
home, my lack of patience got the better of me, so I ripped the top of the plastic bag open and examined each part
carefully. Somehow, these pieces fit together and would form one of those cool planes that my friend had but I swore
I would be more careful and not let it end up on the roof of our own home as well.

It was but one of many such planes I was able fly in my back yard and I would wind up the long, slender rubber band
until it had a series of tight knots along its length. My desire was to place the model on the ground, let it go,
and watch it ROG but the result was always the same… a quick, wide circle on the ground immediately followed by
cartwheels. But I still tried over and over.

When I was a little older, I was rewarded with a Guillows balsa model. I don’t remember exactly what model it was
but I do remember it was a war bird of some type. We had hard wood floors in most of the house, and I used the floor
of my bedroom as my “building board”. I would push my rug aside, lay my plans on the floor and pin the individual
parts down to the plans with pins I “acquired” from my mom’s sewing kit. And I cut those stubborn balsa parts out
with a single edge razor blade I found in the medicine cabinet. Since the razor blade wasn’t as sharp as it could
have been, many such balsa parts ended up being split into many pieces, but I would just apply extra Testers cement
and it was all good. Once the frame was complete, I needed to cover it so it was off to the kitchen to find a
suitable covering material. I saw that mom had a couple of rolls of contact paper stored that she used to line the
cabinets with. It was light blue and almost the same hue as the picture on the cover of the box the model came in,
so I was in business. With roll in hand, I scampered back to my bedroom, umm… hanger, and proceeded to cut small
pieces of contact paper, peel off the backing, and place the thick, rugged, contact paper over the frame of my
creation. Sometimes I would end up with a missed spot here or there, so I would just cut a bigger piece of contact
paper and place it over the gaps in covering. This was one well covered bird with many layers of covering that
could no doubt withstand bullets from unfriendly fire. Once everything was complete, the instructions called for
a “glide test”. I was to hold the model just under the wing and toss it firm, yet gentle at a slight downward angle.
I’m here to tell you, I had just as well performed the “glide test” with a dictionary… the end result would have
been the same. Subsequent models met similar fates but it at least gave me much experience with working with balsa.

Many years later, I was browsing the magazine section of a book store I frequented when I came across
the latest issue of RCM (my favorite) and the cover stopped me in my tracks. A lady was posing behind a
white and red delta and I was awe struck… it was the Balsa USA Northstar… I couldn’t buy that magazine
fast enough. When I got home, I read every word of that article, studied every nuance of each photo, and
dreamed of the day when I would be able to have a beautiful bird like that. It was then that I was
forever hooked on R/C flight.

I took the plans in the article and carefully scaled them up and began making all the parts. This was
back in the mid 80’s and eventually I had the majority of parts either cut out or carefully drawn out
on sheets of balsa. Unfortunately I never got around to actually assembling everything so as the years
continued to creep by, this too began to collect dust. This was entirely different than the Guillows
kits I had as a child, but I continued to read RCM and everything else I could get my hands on.

My Commodore 64 computer was used primarily for games and this thing called the internet was not what it
is today so “surfing to net” for info or just logging into RCUniverse was not even an option for me.

One day while browsing the ads in RCM, I came across the Easy 100… another bird offered by Balsa USA. It
was a sleek looking trainer that was “easy to fly” and “great for the beginner pilot”… at least that’s
what I interpreted. So I sent them a postal money order and I received my first kit. I assembled it in my
apartment exactly per plan, but this time I used actual film covering I got from the LHS and not contact
paper. I checked and re-checked everything once I had a completed plane and because I was such an
“expert” from reading so much, I was confident that I knew everything that I needed to know and could
teach myself to fly. What was that phrase that the robot on “Lost In Space” used to say… “Danger… Danger…”

So I packed all my gear, headed to a nearby “school” and sought out the perfect spot for my maiden. There
was a track at the school that I thought would make a perfect runway, but a couple of people were jogging
around the track and I didn’t want “them” to get in “my” way. So my second choice was a gravel driveway
that led into the adjacent field. It was a gorgeous, sunny Saturday afternoon, and there was not a cloud
in the sky… the only thing to mar the perfect blue sky were the power lines overhead nearby. As I began
to unpack my gear, I noticed a stray dog in the distance staring at me with his head cocked at an angle…
it’s funny how animals can sense ignorance even at a distance.
 
After a final check, I used the butt end of my flathead screwdriver as a chicken stick and with a couple
of flicks, brought that K&amp;B .40 to life. I stood behind the tail of the plane and with my fancy book
knowledge at the ready, I slowly advanced the throttle to full and watched my blue bird quickly roll away
from me in a perfect straight line… and roll… and roll. Oh uh… the end of the driveway was coming up fast
and I still had all three wheels on the ground! So at the last minute I threw all caution to the wind and
gave it full elevator. Nothing happened at first and then the next moment the nose came up an inch and
the mains soon followed. My brand new Easy 100 was pointed up at a 45 degree angle and was beginning its
climb out. Never had I ever felt such exhilaration… sure pure joy… to see all my hard work pay off and
to actually see my plane “take off”… just like I always wanted my little rubber band model to do to when
I was a little boy. But these were the first few seconds of my maiden… after she rose to an altitude of
approximately 20 feet, I noticed the left wing start to dip lower than the right. The thought registered
in my head that she’s starting to bank to the left and the seconds seems to speed by faster and faster.
The slow climb-out quickly leveled out into level flight. Level flight turned into a shallow dive. I had
to do something quick. The throttle was wide open. I had read all the books. I didn’t need help. I could
teach myself to fly. I could see the top of the entire wing as the plane turned back to me. Left was
right. Right was left. But I didn’t notice. Panic set in but was soon followed by a wooden pop when the
nose struck the ground and all was silent again. If I could have torn my eyes away from the pile of balsa
ahead of me in the distance I would have seen that same small dog that watched me setup earlier just
shake his head from side-to-side and walk away while muttering under his breath “poor fool”.

I took a break from building for awhile but continued to read, and read, and read. Then I invested in a
RealFlight sim and flew every plane in the menu. After that, I bought a copy of Aerofly Pro and did the
same thing until that pesky left/right orientation thing became second nature. Next, I joined the AMA,
sought out and joined a fantastic local club, and was fortunate enough to get paired with a great guy
that took my Kadet Senior up (that I built from a kit) and then handed me the controls. As I took
control and performed the basic maneuvers he asked me to do I began to think I had the flu because even
though it was a warm day, I couldn’t keep my knees from shaking or my hands from trembling. It was only
later that I discovered that I was not ill in the least and that it was the thrill of flight that had me
so pumped. When I was finally instructed to land on my own, I lined up for my final, croaked
“landing left to right” loudly like a kid in the midst of puberty, eased back on the throttle and watched
that beautiful black, grey, and white bird float in and touch down on her mains with the nose a split
second behind with only the slightest amount of bounce. I had a terrific instructor (thank you Bob) and
if I could have pried my hands off of my transmitter or taken my eyes off of my Kadet I would have hugged
him. But only for a moment mind you, only for the briefest of moments.

After that day, my addiction was permanent and there was no coming back. I knew right then and there that
when I took my last breath, my thumbs would be resting on two knurled, chrome sticks of a transmitter and
I would be piloting my soul to the heavens… at least that’s where I hope to be headed and not have to
give down elevator. But I did stick all those pins in the floor of my hardwood floor when I was a little
boy and then cover it with the rug when I was done so my mom wouldn’t find out. I’ll have to make amends
for that somehow.

And what became of my first love that was designed by Laddie Mikulasko? The parts for that “scratch
-build” were eventually used as repair stock for other planes in my hanger and I decided to just buy the
Northstar kit and build it that way. It was about 90% complete when I realized I really didn’t like the
way it turned out so I will purchase another kit and start over, incorporating several improvements that
I feel I will be much happier with.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story and take a look into brief moments in my R/C history.
It is a wonderful community that I feel I belong to and for all those who have helped and taught me, I
thank you from the bottom of my heart. And to you Laddie, especially you, thank you for the inspiration!

mdu

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