After many of you sent me kind words yesterday, I realized my posts were a little cryptic.
My dear friend, Jack, invited us to his rocket club’s launch. This particular launch is only a twenty-minute drive, so OF COURSE, WE’RE GOING TO WATCH PEOPLE LIGHT STUFF ON FIRE.
We went on Easter Sunday and, frankly, were surprised how much fun it is even when you are not a rocketeer.
Saturday’s launch was jam-packed with some heavy-hitting rockets. Jack and his wife are some of our favorite people. So, I offered some recordings, and we booked out to the grasslands.
Two things of note: the weather in April was cloudy and windy as it only can be in the plains. And there were easily triple the people than the Easter launch.
You think watching a rocket launch, arc, separate, and ideally land gently would be boring, but it isn’t.
In fact, the achingly blue skies and very light breeze meant we could track those rockets from launch to landing. The guy running the launch keys (I’m sure he has an official name, but hey, I picked up arc, event, separate, glitter, and chute in terms of the lingo so . . . ) ran an even, hilarious patter with just the perfect amount of dad jokes, rocket puns, and oops moments to satisfy even the most jaded launch audience.
The day didn’t disappoint though we missed the BIG ‘O’ motor launch on Friday. Rockets are categorized by motor size among other things. But there were igniter failures, a couple of HARD landings, one “lawn dart”, and several rockets so big or so long they required multiple people to carry them.
Ooh, and one launched its chute on the pad in the rocketeer’s face knocking both him and the ladder he was on to the ground. No one was hurt, but it made for an OOOOOOH moment.
If someone you know casually says, “Hey, we’re launching some rockets. You want to come?”, I highly recommend you take them up on the offer.
Bring shade and extra water. Wear sturdy walking boots (someone has to go get that rocket). And stock up on snacks.
Oh, and maybe do some yoga before and after. There is a lot of neck-craning when you are rocket-spotting.