Flight

The first flight of the Maverick was made with it still in what I like to call cornshock camo, that combination of primer, Fill & Finish, and bare body tube that would virtually guarantee the rocket would disappear without a bright parachute.  I used an Estes E9-6 for the first flight, figuring that while the rocket wasn't minimum diameter, it was close.  Well, not close enough.  It was a windy day, and I really meant to reef the chute.  Really, I did.  Forgot.  The Maverick ripped off the pad nicely, arcing into the wind somewhat, but nowhere near enough to compensate for the full 18" Estes chute and 10-15 mph winds.  It arced over and the chute fired a long second later, and it immediately began racing back across the flight line toward the road.  I watched it fade rapidly from view, marked the spot as best I could, and started my walk.  Huge expanses of cornfield lay between me and the road, and with several people out retrieving rockets, I held out hope that someone might pick the Maverick up and bring it in.  No such luck.  I had seen nothing when I reached Ohio 41, walked up and down both sides of the road for 1/4 mile and still saw nothing.  By this time I was in a foul mood and had written the rocket off.  I turned back to walk toward the flight line and saw the Estes chute inflate in a particularly brutal gust of wind.  If not for that I would have had no chance of finding it.  It blended in REALLY well.  Post flight showed some scrape damage to the fins, likely from being dragged across the plowed earth, and the dreaded FSI dent at the top of the main body tube.

The second flight came after the deluxe paint treatment and was made in almost identical conditions to the first flight.  This time I used an E9-4 and a 12" nylon chute and was rewarded with the same kind of flight other than ejection happening right at apogee.  Once again there was far less windcocking than I expected and I was rewarded with another trip into the corn.  This time I was able to walk right up to it.  Another flier was scouring the creek bank for his missing bird, which he said was chartreuser, so I helped him until he gave up.  On the way back in I noticed a flash of chartreuse, a color that I previously called bright yellow, but which has no business in a cornfield.  It was his missing rocket, 100' back toward the flightline  from the creek.  All's well that ends well.