11

LENS

I

’m heading to Midland Sky for my

first taste of model rocketry. Just off

the M42 in the West Midlands, we

follow a farm track to a strip of grass

alongside the field that serves as car

park, camp‑ground, and launch site.

Occasional clouds push across the post-harvest

fields and a group of rocketeers gather around,

readying their crafts.

There are two groups of launch pads – one for

High Power Rocketry (HPR) and a smaller one for

smaller rockets, closer to the group of spectators.

In both cases, the launch pads look like poles,

supported at the bottom and poking at the sky –

although later, when I see them up close, I find

that the model pad is thin metal poles, while the

larger ones are slotted shafts (the rockets have

pins that slot into these).

A group of people approach and fill the pads

with rockets, then retreat to a safe distance. Paul

Carter, the Range Safety Officer (RSO), summons

each rocketeer in turn to launch. Checking that

there’s nothing overhead (we’re between two

airports, and adjacent to a microlight airstrip), he

issues a countdown.

Five

Four

Three

Tw o

One

VVVVWOOOOSH!

The engine lights and, leaving a trail of smoke,

the craft flies skywards. Even though I’m not

involved in the rocket, the roar, the smoke, and the

flash of flames induce a tingle of exhilaration in my

veins. The closest thing that I can describe it to is

a penalty shoot-out. Although it’s non-competitive,

there’s the same build-up, the same explosive

release, and the same sudden success-or-failure.

Most engines burn for only a few seconds, but

that’s enough to send them hundreds, or thousands,

of feet into the air (the club uses feet rather

than metres).

The crowd of spectators (mostly, but

not entirely, fellow rocketeers) crane

their necks upwards. Even the

larger rockets (over two metres

in length), can be hard to

spot at high altitude,

and having more eyes means it’s more likely to

be tracked.

Once it’s reached its high point (the ‘apogee’ in

rocketing terminology), it starts to fall. The simple,

smaller rockets have a small charge that detonates

a few seconds after the motor; this pops out a

parachute and it glides down safely. However,

the larger and higher-flying rockets don’t use this

automatic method, as it would deploy the parachute

high up – this means that there’d be a long drift as

the wind carried it across the field, and possibly into

a neighbouring farmhouse. These use an altimeter to

automatically release the parachute at a preset height.

As the rockets glide safely to earth, the crowd

applauds – both in congratulations of a successful

launch, and in appreciation for the show that’s been

put on for them.

Once all the rockets have launched, the rocketeers

set off across the field to retrieve their craft, and a

new group of people begin setting up their rockets.

At least, this is how the rockets should launch.

A few go wrong. Mostly, they fail to ignite the motor –

usually due to a duff igniter. A few spin spectacularly,

or fail to deploy their parachutes, and end up coming

back in more pieces than intended.

Above

Once you’ve learned

the basics, you

can improvise with

different materials

Below

A line-up of

model rockets

ready for launch