Anything in life worth doing starts with a human interest story; the joy in an accomplishment begins with finding the drive to make it happen. This is neither an engineering-heavy thread (after all, it's a hobby project) nor a paint-by-number sharing of gluing pre-cut fins on a tube and flying it on a pre-made motor, because neither of those are what drive me to participate in rocketry. This will be latest chapter in a story of accelerated builds (double entendre) that are as much about the journey as they are about the rocket; follow along if you wish. The end result will be flying a 3" catalyzed N motor with a fincan at Black Rock in 2 weeks.
Since I was a child, most of my accomplishments have come in the form of what my dad came to call "runaway train" mode; my tendency to randomly pick an objective that makes little sense and seems even less possible, tune everything else out to an impractical degree, and push my mind and body to the limit such that the end result is a blur; a watermark in life that I can look back and say "yeah, I don't know how, but I did that." My other hobby, high-altitude climbing, is exclusively this way and often this alienating degree of focus is the difference between life and death, so it's no surprise that the moments I've enjoyed most in rocketry mimic the feeling of summit day somewhere in Asia, waking up in the dead of night and climbing 48-72 hours in a hypoxic delirium, writing a story that is uniquely your own and few will ever be able to truly comprehend.
I've been lucky enough to sort of define chapters in my life in terms of these rocket trips; those of you who have read my threads since I began documenting my adventures a few years ago know that the rocketry manifestation of this is my annual tradition of conceptualizing an ambitious project a period of days before a Black Rock launch, and clicking into runaway train mode to make it happen in terms of design, construction, logistics, roadtripping, budgeting, and within the confines of my career. My buddy (A5tro Anon) and I have the next iteration of the composite case series of builds in the works, and had planned to head out to Black Rock this summer with a 4.5" highly optimized iteration targeting the 150k range, but we've fallen behind schedule and it's now looking like the flight will get pushed to next year. So, the plan had been no Black Rock this year.
About 4 months ago, a tragic accident within my immediate family kinda put everything in perspective and reinforced the notion of "get busy living, or get busy dying." It motivated me to remove myself from a domestic situation that did nothing for me, and to make a large career shift that I had been wanting to make for a while. So much has been going on, that all has become a blur, and many things, including the 4.5" project, have sorta fallen by the wayside.
Fast forward to the 4th of July, when I found myself in line to ride the world's tallest waterslide, aptly named Verrukt (German for insane) with my friend Manny, who some of you may know. Manny is preparing his own project for Aeronaut, and as a whole, is enjoying the adventurous rocketry lifestyle that I did in high school and college and have missed since joining the working world now that I don't have the capacity to take weeks-long roadtrips. While waiting in the absurdly long line for the ride, we got to talking about Aeronaut and how Mat and I's 4.5" project was nowhere near completion, and how a Black Rock trip likely wasn't in the cards for me this year. Manny started putting the squeeze on me to whip up a separate, hobby-grade project, meet him halfway between Texas and Iowa in OKC and drop off my motor with him, and catch a flight out to Aeronaut. When I tried to make an excuse that all my GPS units had been lost during our recent New Mexico trip, Manny texted Bryce (bandman) as we waited in line and within minutes, a BRB transmitter had been volunteered (thanks, Bryce!) At first I was resistant; I'm low on money, in the middle of a significant career shift, and have had a hell of a last 4 months. But that night, as I had dinner with my Godfamily in Grandview, MO, I could tell that a Black Rock trip was just what I needed to re-focus, and that the runaway train was already long gone. Get busy living, or get busy dying. Verrukt was born.
The 1,000 mile drive home the next day was a blur, as was a trip to Salt Lake City the following week (last week). The career shift is in motion, and will be finalized the Monday after Aeronaut. Flights in and out of Reno for that weekend start at $700. So I renewed my Tripoli membership, dragged out my old Kosdon 75/10k case, and found an old 3" no-layup fincan laying around. I bought a roundtrip ticket into Oakland International on the world's shittiest airline for $400 roundtrip, and found a $10/day car rental that should get me to Black Rock. Since I've missed the Tripoli over 50k deadline, the project has to be under 50k but still be challenging and cool; so how about a motor design and manufacturing challenge -- a catalyzed 3" 10,000ns load that won't crack 50k but might crack M4 (which would be a new personal best) and won't require a large investment? Seems to fit the bill on all fronts. I guessed 46k' as I swam in Oklahoma's Lake Eufaula on my drive home, a subsequent sim told me 45,993'. I've been doing this too long. Whip up some sims and submit them to Aeropac for their internal review, check.
Right now, transitioning out of my old job is taking all of my time and attention, but my last day is Friday, July 24. The motor will have two different propellant variations in it to counteract erosivity, a pretty common tactic in long motors. So one mix will be Saturday, July 25, and the second mix will be Sunday, July 26. My week off starts the next day, so I'll assemble the motor (a critical and time-intensive step with a motor of this nature) on Monday, July 27 and head up to OKC to meet Manny on his way out to Black Rock on Tuesday, July 28. I'll return to Texas overnight, and spend Wednesday, July 29 laying up the old no-layups fincan and vacuum bag it overnight. My flight to Oakland leaves the next morning. I've ordered two StratoLoggerCFs, which minimize my exposure and investment and fit this kind of flight profile perfectly; we'll stick them in Manny's 3" nosecone which withstood his 41k' and Mach 3.2 flight last year, and we're good to go.
I'm usually an altitude guy; this won't be a personal best. But it should be a new personal best in terms of speed, should make for some absurd liftoff shots and will be a hell of a motor-making accomplishment if successful (I believe as it stands I'm one of five or six people to have successfully mixed and flown a 75/10k, back in 2010, and that was with a very tame propellant. Adding RIO to the mix will be legendary, and the numbers look good.) And if the last four months have taught me anything, it's that moments and challenges like these are what make life worth living; the rest is just noise.
Thanks for following along. Rock and roll.
-Steve Heller
Since I was a child, most of my accomplishments have come in the form of what my dad came to call "runaway train" mode; my tendency to randomly pick an objective that makes little sense and seems even less possible, tune everything else out to an impractical degree, and push my mind and body to the limit such that the end result is a blur; a watermark in life that I can look back and say "yeah, I don't know how, but I did that." My other hobby, high-altitude climbing, is exclusively this way and often this alienating degree of focus is the difference between life and death, so it's no surprise that the moments I've enjoyed most in rocketry mimic the feeling of summit day somewhere in Asia, waking up in the dead of night and climbing 48-72 hours in a hypoxic delirium, writing a story that is uniquely your own and few will ever be able to truly comprehend.
I've been lucky enough to sort of define chapters in my life in terms of these rocket trips; those of you who have read my threads since I began documenting my adventures a few years ago know that the rocketry manifestation of this is my annual tradition of conceptualizing an ambitious project a period of days before a Black Rock launch, and clicking into runaway train mode to make it happen in terms of design, construction, logistics, roadtripping, budgeting, and within the confines of my career. My buddy (A5tro Anon) and I have the next iteration of the composite case series of builds in the works, and had planned to head out to Black Rock this summer with a 4.5" highly optimized iteration targeting the 150k range, but we've fallen behind schedule and it's now looking like the flight will get pushed to next year. So, the plan had been no Black Rock this year.
About 4 months ago, a tragic accident within my immediate family kinda put everything in perspective and reinforced the notion of "get busy living, or get busy dying." It motivated me to remove myself from a domestic situation that did nothing for me, and to make a large career shift that I had been wanting to make for a while. So much has been going on, that all has become a blur, and many things, including the 4.5" project, have sorta fallen by the wayside.
Fast forward to the 4th of July, when I found myself in line to ride the world's tallest waterslide, aptly named Verrukt (German for insane) with my friend Manny, who some of you may know. Manny is preparing his own project for Aeronaut, and as a whole, is enjoying the adventurous rocketry lifestyle that I did in high school and college and have missed since joining the working world now that I don't have the capacity to take weeks-long roadtrips. While waiting in the absurdly long line for the ride, we got to talking about Aeronaut and how Mat and I's 4.5" project was nowhere near completion, and how a Black Rock trip likely wasn't in the cards for me this year. Manny started putting the squeeze on me to whip up a separate, hobby-grade project, meet him halfway between Texas and Iowa in OKC and drop off my motor with him, and catch a flight out to Aeronaut. When I tried to make an excuse that all my GPS units had been lost during our recent New Mexico trip, Manny texted Bryce (bandman) as we waited in line and within minutes, a BRB transmitter had been volunteered (thanks, Bryce!) At first I was resistant; I'm low on money, in the middle of a significant career shift, and have had a hell of a last 4 months. But that night, as I had dinner with my Godfamily in Grandview, MO, I could tell that a Black Rock trip was just what I needed to re-focus, and that the runaway train was already long gone. Get busy living, or get busy dying. Verrukt was born.
The 1,000 mile drive home the next day was a blur, as was a trip to Salt Lake City the following week (last week). The career shift is in motion, and will be finalized the Monday after Aeronaut. Flights in and out of Reno for that weekend start at $700. So I renewed my Tripoli membership, dragged out my old Kosdon 75/10k case, and found an old 3" no-layup fincan laying around. I bought a roundtrip ticket into Oakland International on the world's shittiest airline for $400 roundtrip, and found a $10/day car rental that should get me to Black Rock. Since I've missed the Tripoli over 50k deadline, the project has to be under 50k but still be challenging and cool; so how about a motor design and manufacturing challenge -- a catalyzed 3" 10,000ns load that won't crack 50k but might crack M4 (which would be a new personal best) and won't require a large investment? Seems to fit the bill on all fronts. I guessed 46k' as I swam in Oklahoma's Lake Eufaula on my drive home, a subsequent sim told me 45,993'. I've been doing this too long. Whip up some sims and submit them to Aeropac for their internal review, check.
Right now, transitioning out of my old job is taking all of my time and attention, but my last day is Friday, July 24. The motor will have two different propellant variations in it to counteract erosivity, a pretty common tactic in long motors. So one mix will be Saturday, July 25, and the second mix will be Sunday, July 26. My week off starts the next day, so I'll assemble the motor (a critical and time-intensive step with a motor of this nature) on Monday, July 27 and head up to OKC to meet Manny on his way out to Black Rock on Tuesday, July 28. I'll return to Texas overnight, and spend Wednesday, July 29 laying up the old no-layups fincan and vacuum bag it overnight. My flight to Oakland leaves the next morning. I've ordered two StratoLoggerCFs, which minimize my exposure and investment and fit this kind of flight profile perfectly; we'll stick them in Manny's 3" nosecone which withstood his 41k' and Mach 3.2 flight last year, and we're good to go.
I'm usually an altitude guy; this won't be a personal best. But it should be a new personal best in terms of speed, should make for some absurd liftoff shots and will be a hell of a motor-making accomplishment if successful (I believe as it stands I'm one of five or six people to have successfully mixed and flown a 75/10k, back in 2010, and that was with a very tame propellant. Adding RIO to the mix will be legendary, and the numbers look good.) And if the last four months have taught me anything, it's that moments and challenges like these are what make life worth living; the rest is just noise.
Thanks for following along. Rock and roll.
-Steve Heller
