pm05gah

Dear all,   firstly, thank you for your welcomes and welcome advice. Gratefully received and noted. Below is a further update on my (mis)adventures. No doubt riddled with error and illogic, classic "how not to" and outright buffoonery. All advice and further guidance is most welcome, but hold on to it for a short while longer and let me take you back to my dusty garage...   My initial acquisition is in ok shape having been cleaned up and all innards removed, inspected, tested and mostly returned. All flying surfaces and load bearing structures appear sound (because I am totally qualified to make that judgment...). And after a thoroughly 'enjoyable' few hours with our (rarely used) household iron, some left over solartex from the local model shop and a heat proof towel through which to apply the heat directly (learned the hard way, it is surprisingly tricky to remove seared plastic from an iron...) we were airtight and (w)hole again!   Infernal combustion: Well this is an SC 46, looks pretty good now I've removed the oil and grass, whipped out the old glow plug and inserted a new one. compression feels solid, turns well and freely. Took the carb apart - why is there epoxy in one of the holes that the carb securing bolts go.....oh wait. Someone has stripped the thread. Um, is this a deal breaker? Is this ready for the knacker's yard? I thought this was too good a deal. How on earth were they using the engine like this. A promptly-sourced M3 24mm bolt through the entire carb port fills both holes and secures nicely with a nylock bolt. Ok, probably ok, pretty sure the 150 I flew previously (in a brief tango with PPL) probably has as much ice and cowpat blocking the venturi at times... So it's now clean and turning over smoothly, the glow plug glows. I should probably build a testing bench. A quick rummage in the wood store produces a flat board leftover from a flooring project and some 2 by 4. Voila, a botched and pretty rough and ready testing bench with a friction-based throttle wire. On goes the propellor, cleaned fuel tank and new tubing cut to size and attached. Outside we go. Thick fire proof woodburner gloves donned ("overkill," and "you wimp!" I hear screamed from the stalls; I've seen many a person in my job who is short a couple of digits and each case is usually accompanied by a story that has me thinking 'that was stupid,' and I wasn't ready to join their ranks, just yet). Right how do we do this again? I block the venturi, couple of turns, sounds like fuel going through. Attach glow stick, grasp rubber-handled screwdriver upside down and flick. An again. And again. And with a hoarse cough and a smokey judder she spins into life. S**t the bed, it actually works. Umm ok, glow stick off, drops a few beats, (I rack my brain desperately trying to remember how to tune the needles) thin out the mixture, rises, rises more, then drops and stops. Half a turn rich, retarts on first flick. Glow away and she settles into a nice grumble at idle. After a bit more fiddling and fuel-tube pinching the speed needle is set and she throttles responsively and smoothly. After 15 minutes of playing and fiddling and cutting the throttle to kill it and then restarting just to ensure it isn't some unholy fluke that has caused this once defunct engine to sputter into life I decide that, although imminently moving house, an internal combustion parting shot is not what the neighbours deserve. I grab the testing station and new favourite machine and we return to the garage. The sickly sweet smell of nitromethane is a beautiful reminder of years gone by and, like a pair of smokey hands, drags me back to my childhood: simpler times. My halcyon daydream is rapidly snatched away as I pick up the engine by the muffler, which apparently gets quite hot, and I've taken off the fire gloves. Excellent. I've now got a big smile on my face. Mostly because it works, I made it work, and nothing can take that away. I also still have eight fingers and two thumbs, although a few lightly seared. Whatismore I can smell internal combustion and as filthy and un-ecological as we know it is, I can't help but feel excited. (Years of commuting to work on my pushbike, I am hoping, will go some way toward offsetting my now slightly larger carbon footprint).   The aircraft seems airworthy, and now the engine works. I should probably get some sort of controlling device for it...         Edited By pm05gah on 10/08/2020 21:07:48

Dear all,   firstly hello. I am new here. I’m feeling somewhat sentimental but also excited during what has been a very odd year. Below is therapeutic waffle (therapeutic for me) that bears no wisdom, will confer no education, purely an insight into a renaissance of a wandering mind looking for peace.   It has been a fun couple of weeks. I dabbled (at a very amateur level) in the world of both electric and IC model flying about 20 years ago as a teenager. Built and flew a couple of planes. A glider. Then an ic trainer. Crashed it. Then running before I could crawl bought a 3d artf. Crashed it. Then life, university, partying, girls and “being cool” took over (amateur at all those too) and rc flying dispersed into the ether like a passing mist. Kit sold or given away like cheap trinkets to make space for other toys and sporting equipment. Years later, with a new baby, a busy on-call work schedule, a self diagnosis of needing to rediscover catharsis and mindfulness and a garage, I found myself looking for a quiet relaxing hobby to offset the busier aspect of life (and also for when the surf is pants). To say I was looking for it actively is false. Subconsciously, maybe. But it was serendipity That lit the tinderbox. Driving home from a rather tiring surf session I see some planes flying in the field I’m passing; must be models? Didn’t know there was a club there? During lockdown, my brother, in a bid to relax with two obstreperous children at home, got into airfix. His eye for detail and steady hands have come into their own and the quality of kits he is producing is incredible. we get talking about his guilty ‘childhood hobby’ and he says he’ll send me one. So a week later a 1/72 spitfire arrives with all the glue paint and brushes needed. a fun two weeks I had with my new “after-school” dalliance. And a quiet time which was completely absorbing and hours passed in the space of minutes. It gave the missus time to herself (once the bairn was asleep) and me time to reflect and generally slow down.   whilst surfing the interweb looking at bigger models to build I stumble upon remote control. A small bulb flickers in some deep and dormant oubliette of my midbrain. I used to have one of those. Cue more googling and research. And before I know it I’ve agreed to collect a secondhand model that needs some tlc from down the road. Ok, it’s bigger than I remember and the engine is leaking what looks like mouldy honey. And there’s mud and grass deeply ensconced in the gear and left aileron.   ok maybe this was a bad idea. I’ve no tools, kit or well, idea really. Little of the gear, and no idea.   It’s got an engine, servos, a receiver, ok, 2.4g? Ok better google that. I’ll need a transmitter. The wings are big, where will I put them. Garage filling up already. Few holes in the covering (solartex was it?) I don’t think it’s dope and tissue. The more I look at it the deeper the rabbit hole goes and before long I am staring into the gaping maw of a satisfying, tricky, limitless and seemingly enduring pass time.   to be continued...     Edited By Pete B - Moderator on 06/08/2020 13:37:46