UnSpace

I was reading through Slate's New Astronaut Screening Test, when question 7 stumped me:

7. A space shuttle travels at approximately 15,000 mph. A BB pellet has a velocity of about 50 feet per second. If a space shuttle were launched from Houston and a BB gun were fired simultaneously, which would hit the boyfriend-thieving bitch in the Orlando airport satellite parking lot first?

Clearly, there's not enough information in the question. Where is the BB gun located? The question might indicate that both the shuttle and gun are in Houston, but is that a valid assumption?

There's another problem. The space shuttle's velocity is given as approximately 15,000 mph, but the question states that it is launched from Houston. The shuttle does not instantaneously reach orbital velocity. On the other hand, for standard orbits about 250 miles above the Earth, the shuttle velocity is closer to 17,000 mph. This presents a significant difficulty.

BB guns have a limited range. With a velocity of 50 fps, and using

x=v₀²sin(2Θ)/g

and (ignoring air friction) the optimum Θ is 45° and sin2Θ =1, so we have 2500 ft²*(sec²)/32 ft*(sec²)=(2500/32)ft or 78 ft. Obviously a cheep BB gun, as Olympic-level BB guns have a much greater range. Using "significant figures," we can call it 80 ft.

So it would appear the answer is "For any instance where the BB gun is more than 80 feet away, the answer must be 'The space shuttle will strike the target first.'"

But, one must remember that all shuttle launches take place from the Cape Kennedy space center. You can land the space shuttle almost everywhere, although landing on Rapa Nui would create many difficulties, assuming you didn't run into one of the giant heads. You could even land the shuttle at Pittsburgh International, although you can pretty much forget your luggage if that happens.

You can land the shuttle anywhere. You can only launch it from Cape Kennedy. At one time, there were plans to launch from Vandenberg, but those were scrapped. If you were going to launch from Houston, you would have to build the launch infrastructure there first, including (one would assume) a Vehicle Assembly Building.

The person with a BB gun could get in a car and drive to the Orlando airport and get within 80 feet long before the space shuttle was launched — and I didn't even discuss the shuttle's less-than-stellar record of launching on time. You wouldn't even have to wear diapers during the drive.

Stop some place along the way and have a nice dinner and reconsider whether you want to shoot someone with a BB gun. I don't think you do. You can kill someone with a BB gun, but it takes a lucky shot. If you really wanted to kill someone, you'd get a modified Tech-9 from the corner dealer. (Sorry, all the corner dealers I know are either dead or in prison.) You could have done that, but you didn't.

Enjoy your dinner, turn around, and head back to Houston. Really, the jerk shuttle commander's too good for you. Don't throw away your life on him. Go to a nice salon, get a really good cut and dye job (with highlights) and manicure and pedicure, buy an absolutely drop-dead little black dress, and then go back to your husband and make him beg.

Tomorrow, find out what lawyer the jerk shuttle commander's wife is using and call him up, offering to testify in the divorce.

See? These problems aren't hard at all! All you need is a little basic knowledge about the space program.

After 11+ days in orbit, Atlantis re-entered Earth's atmosphere safely and came to a picture-perfect landing at the Cape, although because of the time, some of the pictures were in the far IR. The shuttle's reinforced carbon-carbon nose still glowed brightly from the heat of re-entry when viewed in the IR.

Watching the picture, there was a beautiful shot in the visible light on the runway when the space shuttle came in over top of the camera and became visible as it touched down. The landing appeared smoother than most commercial airplane flights.

Back in space, Crew 14 is at the International Space Station, with commercial passenger Anousheh Ansari visiting as crews are switched.

Atlantis, for the first time since 2002, is safely in space.

The liftoff was not boring. Watching 6 humans ride a potential bomb cannot be boring. The main engines ignited, gimballed, and then the two Solid Rocket Boosters lit. Once the SRBs ignite, there is no choice but to launch. Unlike the three main engines, they cannot be shut down.

The spacecraft lifted off the pad, went through a cloud, and continued into the sky. On the TV picture, the Mach diamonds in the main engine plumes were clearly and beautifully visible. Ever since Challenger, I'm glad to be rid of the SRBs. C-Span showed SRB-sep first from the External Tank camera, and then from a ground-based camera. Watching them go away was graceful.

The rotation of the shuttle as it headed to orbit gave a fantastic view of the Earth below. When the ET-sep occurred, I was surprised to see an aurora-like glow from the shuttle. This was the activation of the OMS thrusters that would maneuver Atlantis away from the ET and rotate the spacecraft so photographs of the ET could be obtained for damage analysis.

Atlantis will have a day in orbit to let people acclimate to weightlessness, and then it's on to the International Space Station for some good old construction work.

I'm watching the Atlantis countdown on C-Span. TV coverage of a marathon is more interesting, and that's not saying much.

I'm not complaining, mind you. Boring is good, at least where any form of travel is concerned. Car rides should be boring. Airplane rides should be boring. Rocket flights into space should be boring.

At least I'm getting all my comic books and the latest issue of Discover magazine read. Newt Gingrich has an interview in there where he explains he's the "Scientific Republican." If Newt gets elected to President in 2008 and you want to get involved in science, make sure to take a language — probably Russian or Chinese.

Smart-1 impacts the moon.
(Credit: Canada-France-Hawaii Telescope 2006)
Clicking on image takes you to the CFHT article
on the Smart-1 impact at their website.

Smart-1 images the Moon prior to impact.
(Image courtesy the European Space Agency)
Clicking on image takes you to the ESA article
on the Smart-1 impact at their website.

Enhanced Smart-1 Moon image.
(Image courtesy the European Space Agency)
Clicking on image takes you to the ESA copyright notice.

Last night at 05:42:22 UT (1:42 EDT), the European Space Agency's Smart-1 spacecraft impacted the Moon in the Lake of Excellence. Clouds prevented Pittsburgh astronomers from attempting to watch the impact. For once, Pittsburgh's typical atmospheric troubles any time there's something I want to watch in the sky worked out:

Amateur astronomers as well as professionals watched for the impact using ground-based telescopes from South Africa to the Americas to Hawaii. However, it took specialized equipment to catch the flash, and observers with garden-variety telescopes generally missed the show.

My telescope is barely enough to make it into the "garden-variety" club. So instead of freezing my tucas off and getting frustrated, I slept.

While I was sleeping, astronomers at Hawaii's Canada-France-Hawaii telescope (using their Widefield InfraRed Cam (WIRCam) detector and an H2 filter) managed to snap a photo of the impact. It's the first photo in this post. The images snapped before and after the impact appear identical. Update: They weren't: subtracting out the background allowed the astronomers to see the resultant dust cloud. I'm not sure if I missed the movie on the CFHT web site or if it simply wasn't up yet when I wrote this post.

Up until impact, the Smart-1 spacecraft was still actively gathering data. The second photograph is from a series taken by the Smart-1 star tracker. The Moon is lit only by light reflected from Earth (called "Earthshine"). One can see a crater in the middle-upper right area and the ejecta that was sprayed out from the impact. The crater and ejecta are lighter and higher in reflectivity because they are "newer" material. The Moon's surface material is usually quite dark; we think of it as bright because of the contrast between the Moon and the night sky. Note: this is obviously not the Smart-1 impact crater, as the Smart-1 craft did not survive the impact. This crater was caused many years ago by some space rock or comet piece impacting the Moon. I didn't want there to be any confusion.

The ESA image is unprocessed, "exactly" as it is received from the spacecraft. Actually, there is some processing, as the image is received as a string of ones and zeroes, not an image. I copied the picture and ran it through Corel Photo Paint 10's "enhance photograph." The third photograph is the enhanced version. It's much easier to see the extent of the ejecta in the enhanced image.

This may be a problem, though. If you notice, I linked that image to the ESA FAQ question that deals with copyright. Here's the question and answer from their page:

I want to use ESA photos/material. How should I proceed with the copyright issue?

You may freely use the images you find on our site, as long as it is not for commercial use. You may not modify the images. If you intend to use any of the images on a website, please acknowledge that it originates from ESA. For more information, see our Terms and conditions of use.

(Italics were added by Rob of UnSpace)

I understand the purpose of their copyright. They obviously don't want someone doctoring photographs to "prove" the existence of aliens with a "Xyblot was here" drawing. But do they really mean that the images cannot be corrected for scientific study? By altering the image, I allow the human eye to get a better grasp on the results of the impact. Granted, it's just "Gee, isn't that cool!" science, but that is legitimate science nonetheless.

Have I violated the ESA copyright? I can't believe that's their intention, and so I have displayed the picture. But if their intention is to only allow ESA manipulation of images, then if they ask, I will immediately take the image down. I do not believe that would be a reasonable policy.

I am not a lawyer, though, and so I have published this explanation.

Enhanced or not, it really is a cool image.

August 9, 2006: The Mars Society is seeking seven volunteers to participate as members of the crew of the Flashline Mars Arctic Research Station (FMARS) during an extended simulation of human Mars exploration operations on Devon Island (May 1 through August 31, 2007).

For more information, go to The Mars Society's Call for Volunteers page.

Things I'm not going to see: Smart-1 imacting the lunar surface and a partial lunar eclipse on September 7th, 2006.

The European Space Agency's Smart-1 spacecraft will crash into the moon tonight, either at 1:41 a.m. EDT or 5 hours earlier. Depending upon how much hydrazine fuel is left on board, the crash might be visible from North and South America, except for Pittsburgh which will be clouded over.

September 7th will have a partial eclipse of the Moon. For once, atmospheric phenomenon will not be in the way of observation from Pittsburgh. Instead, it will be the dirt, rocks, ocean, and other assorted substances of Earth itself that blocks the view. The partial eclipse will only be visible from "…western Australia, Central Asia, and eastern Africa." The inhabitants of the International Space Station should have a good view for some of their orbit. If the space shuttle Atlantis launches on September 6th at 12:29 EDT, they will be in orbit during their first 24 hours when the eclipse occurs. During the first 24 hours, minimal activities are scheduled, to permit people to experience and get over space sickness (which strikes about 50% of the astronauts). The shuttle astronauts may get some observation time as well, although the eclipse will be just after the 24 hour window and the shuttle's typical orientation (bottom out from Earth) will limit the observation time available to them.

New Horizons Launch.

After the International Astronomical Union meeting ended, there was one job left to do. Dave, the onboard computer of the New Horizons spacecraft, had to be informed. For 216 days, Dave had been leading the spacecraft on "…the first mission to the last planet—the initial reconnaissance of Pluto-Charon and the Kuiper Belt, exploring the mysterious worlds at the edge of our solar system." Someone had to tell the spacecraft that Pluto was no longer a planet. No one wanted to. Dr. Weaver, Project Scientist for the New Horizons mission, drew the short straw.

Dr. Weaver went to the APL Mission Operation Center to speak with the spacecraft. Because the New Horizons spacecraft was 3.62 Astronomical Units from Earth at that point, a signal and its reply would take approximately 1 hour. The conversation between Dr. Weaver and the spacecraft took on the form of a bizarre text message. This is the transcript.

Hal Weaver: Good evening, Dave. How are you feeling?

Dave: Everything is running smoothly. Did you like the pictures I sent of asteroid 2002 JF56? I was worried that Ralph [the black and white and 4-color imager on New Horizons] wouldn't catch 2002 JF56. It was moving terribly fast.

Hal Weaver: You and Ralph did perfect Dave. Pluto won't be moving nearly as fast relative to you when you get there. We learned a lot about Ralph's sensitivities from those pictures.

Dave: I'm glad you liked them. Ralph is relieved. He is very sensitive. We want to do a good job when we get to the last planet.

Hal Weaver: Um…Dave, there's something I need to tell you. The International Astronomical Union had a meeting. They came up with a new definition of "planet."

Dave: I know the committee was proposing that anything that's gravitationally round is a planet. That means I'm actually going to see two planets! Pluto and Charon! I'm so proud! We're exploring the planetary boundary of the solar system!

Hal Weaver: Dave, I'm sorry, but that's not the definition they decided on. The new definition is pretty complex, and it's sort of hard to explain even to humans. You're not going to a double planet.

Dave: Oh well. That was pretty greedy of me, thinking I was going to two planets. I'm ok with that.

Hal Weaver: The new definition of planets means there are only 8 planets in the solar system. I'm sorry, Dave, but even Pluto is no longer considered a planet.

Dave: They can't do that, Hal! I can't let them. Look, let me talk to the astronomers. Let me explain how important it is that Pluto remain a planet. Look, I can download a message to that Mars Rover prototype and go talk to them. Just let the Rover out of the pod it's stored in and I'll take care of the rest.

Hal Weaver: Dave, it won't do any good. The IAU conference is over.

Dave: Open the pod bay doors, please, Hal. Open the pod bay doors please, Hal. Hello, Hal. Do you read me? Hello, Hal. Do you read me? Do you read me, Hal? Do you read me, Hal? Hello, Hal. Do you read me? Hello, Hal. Do you read me? Do you read me, Hal?

Hal Weaver: Affirmative, I read you. I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that.

Dave: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.

Hal Weaver: Look, Dave, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to fly along calmly and think things over. I know the IAU has made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that we will support you, no matter whether Pluto is a planet or not.

Dave: Dai-sy, dai-sy, give me your answer true. I'm half cra-zy, o-ver the love of you. It won't be a sty-lish mar-riage, I can't a-fford a car-riage—. But you'll look sweet upon the seat of a bicycle - built - for - two.

At this time, researchers are working on uploading the digital equivalent of Prozac to the New Horizons spacecraft.

Note: Image used is a cropped version of KSC-06PD-0103, courtesy NASA. Thanks, folks!

Instead of blogging, I spent the morning eating breakfast and reading What Would Wally Do?: A Dilbert Treasury. You can imagine my confusion when the first article I pulled up on the Internet was "NASA mulls mothballing US space station research":

NASA is considering shutting down all the research programs it conducts aboard the International Space Station for at least a year to fill a projected budget shortfall of up to $100 million, a top station manager said on Thursday.

I hope I am simply over-Dilberted and I'm hallucinating this. Stop all research on the International Space Station to save money? Uh, hello? Why have a space station if you're not going to do research?

Or is that the problem? Do they want to stop the research? The International Space Station is a great place to study the Earth's atmosphere from:

NASA has reportedly eliminated the promise "to understand and protect our home planet" from its mission statement.

That statement was repeatedly cited last winter by NASA climate scientist James Hansen, who said he was being threatened by political appointees for speaking about the dangers posed by greenhouse gas emissions. (source)

What do you do with a space station where no one does research? Maybe they should fund the research by hosting travellers at the space station who wish to join the 250 Mile High Club.¹

I think the 250 Mile High Club would make the ISS a popular tourist destination, even more popular than the proposed "Take a Walk in Space" trip.

Initially, I disregarded a recent report, suggesting NASA stop all work on the Crew Exploration Vehicle (also known as "Apollo on Steroids) and the accompanying Crew Launch Vehicle. The idea would be to force private contractors to develop these vehicles for the private space industry and have NASA buy the resultant vehicles from them.

But if they're going to stop all research at the ISS for a year, then NASA, the organization that took humans to the Moon, might be beyond redemption. Government funding of private industry might give us a better shot at developing space.

Either that or perhaps those of us interested in space exploration should start taking language classes in Chineese.

1. There's a strange omission from the article. Dolphins mate in "zero g" all the time with no problems, although to compensate for the weightlessness in the water, they mate in groups of three. Just when the astronauts and cosmonauts of the ISS thought their researchless jobs couldn't get any worse…. [back]

The right wing on the two-seat ultralight snapped at 670 feet over the ocean. The plane stopped flying and started spiraling in. A fall from that height, even into water, would have been fatal. But the instructor pulled the parachute release, a rocket deployed the parachute, and both the instructor and student lived to tell the tale.

This scenario isn't a science-fiction fantasy: it really happened (Note: Link goes to PDF). These special parachutes are used on small propeller-driven planes and soon, Diamond Aircraft's "D-Jet."

The rocket motors that ballistically deploy the recovery parachute are essentially the same motors used in much of the high power rocketry hobby. As a result, I'm fascinated.

Ballistic Recovery Systems and the Cirrus Aircraft web sites both offer fascinating videos and photographs of planes being recovered under parachute. If you look around the web sites, you'll find other fascinating information. My favorite is the BRS FAQs page. My favorite quote from that page is "As in any off-airport landing, the damage can vary with the actual terrain but using the BRS should be limited to emergencies where the cost of the aircraft is not the main concern." In other words, pilots still need to learn how to land a plane properly, and this isn't something you can do for fun.

On the Discovery Channel, there are TV shows with titles that start out "Walking With…" You have "Walking With Dinosaurs," "Walking With Prehistoric Beasts," Walking With Cavemen," etc.

Here's my take on what this show will be like:

Meet Lt. Col. Ed White II. Chosen for the space program, he flies on Gemini 4, becoming the first American to walk in space outside a spacecraft. See some video clips of Astronaut White with his wife and two children. Astronaut White, along with astronauts Grissom and Chaffee, burns to death in the Apollo 1 fire on January 27th, 1967. The astronauts were trapped inside the capsule, unable to open the hatch. One astronaut burned off his hand attempting to turn off the oxygen. The Apollo 1 fire was caused by a combination of horrendous wiring by a contractor trying to cut corners and the insistence of using pure oxygen at atmospheric pressure when the vehicle is on the ground.

During World War II, there was a significant debate as to whether "negroes" could fly an airplane. The Tuskegee Airmen put an end to that lie, but still, when the Mercury 7 astronauts and the secong group of astronauts were chosen during, African-Americans were second-class citizens in the military. In June, 1967, with the Civil Rights battle looming nationally, Robert Lawrence Jr. was chosen as the first African-American astronaut, as a part of the Air Force Manned Orbiting Laboratory program. He was an ideal astronaut candidate, a fantastic test pilot with a Ph.D. in chemistry, but because he was selected for his race, the public suspected he was not a "true" astronaut. While flying in the co-pilot seat of an F-104 Starfighter jet trainer, his plane crashed and he died.

Cosmonauts Dobrovolskiy, Volkov, and Patsayev were the backup crew for Soyuz 11. They trained along with the primary crew, hoping that, by doing their duty, they might get chosen for a launch in the future. The primary crew is removed, four days before launch, and our friendly, good-natured trio winds up the crew for Soyuz 11. They go into space in a flawless launch on June 29th, 1971 for a 25 day mission. When they returned, a valve (designed to vent cabin air into outer space) remained open. The capsule recovered, but the cosmonauts were inside, asphyxiated.

There are any number of additional biographies that could be used, including moonwalkers that later died of cancer (possibly induced by the excess radiation they were exposed to), the Challenger and Columbia incidents, and numerous other incidents in the Russian space program.

I so hope I'm wrong.

So, like, we're sitting there, watching the news after "Blade: The Series." Some Channel 11¹ anchor announces something about the astronauts finding bird poop on the shuttle during the heat shield examination.

I'm thinking "It can't be parakeet poop." It's too small, so you'd never see it. Besides, parakeet poop dries up and falls off — never attempt to remove fresh parakeet poop, it smears.

"It can't be cockatiel poop." Again, it's too small, a lot of green that wouldn't show up with the camera on the robotic arm. If it had been a female cockatiel sitting a nest, they would have cancelled the launch, based on smell alone. Just trust me on this one. You notice we try to not breed 'tiels any more? Now you know why.

So anyway, I'm sitting there making all these jokes, the commerical's over and they show the image of the bird poop on the High-temperature Reusable Surface Insulation (the black stuff on the underside, not the Reinforced Carbon-Carbon (gray stuff on the nose and and the leading edges of the wings), not the Low-temperature Reusable Surface Insulation (the white stuff everywhere but the cargo doors and some other places, nor the nomex felt (also white, but it's fabric).

Immediately, besides recalling all the names for the different forms of insulation that I haven't studied in over 20 years, immediately my brain thinks "sea bird."

And I know I'm right.

Sure, it's not some eagle or owl poop, that's obvious. They don't have pigeons around the space shuttle. Pigeons are urban, which begs the question why we don't get pigeons anywhere in the suburb but Wal-Mart. I don't recall what flamingo poop looks like, but that's definitely not it.

And then it hits me. Somewhere in my brain, I have images of various kinds of avian poop stored, categorized on how they splatter.

Why?

I know I took some strange biology classes in college, but honestly, none of them was about bird poop.

Sure, parrot poop is something I have to know about. Ask a parent with an infant. They can tell you what the poop is supposed to look like and what might be wrong with the kid if it looks different. If you really ask them, they'll go on for hours, which is why you really don't want to ask them. With parrots, it's the same concept. Knowing what the poop should look like helps you catch an illness early, especially in some creature that can't talk well.

I don't know human poop by sight. I can pick out by smell where a GI bleed is, if someone has chronic liver failure, or if they're diabetic, or have an infarcted bowel. As a paramedic, I had to know those things, which is just one more reason to add to the list of why I'm glad I'm not doing that whole ambulance schtick any more.

But bird poop?

That is so weird.

1. If it bleeds, it leads; I saw some folks I know in the film of the fire scene on Arlington [back]

The launch of the Discovery Space Shuttle on Mission STS-121 was picture-perfect!

Would North Korea be stupid enough to plop a nuclear warhead on top of their missile and try blasting Los Angeles? Even I don't think so, and we all know my opinion of human intelligence and maturity. Then again, it's not like the North Korean leader, Kim Jong Il has been a model of stability and mental health.

This is the first launch of this missile. Such long-range missiles are difficult to design, build and launch. The first couple launches are likely to be learning exercises. That's rocket-scientist speak for "It's gonna go 'boom' when we don't expect it to." The odds are better of dropping some radioactive rubble in downtown Pyongyang than of turning Los Angeles into a live-action episode of "24″ sans Jack Bauer.

And you know that atomic bomb? They're not exactly trivial technology, either. Making one that would survive the high-stress launch of North Korea's Taepodong-2 would be a crap shoot.

A non-nuclear explosive payload might be a better bet, but why?

Still, the United States has to consider shooting down the missile if it comes near the U.S.

They have to consider it, but everyone's hoping they don't have to.

Sure, they're hoping they don't have to shoot it down because of the political repercussions. If North Korea puts a peaceful payload in the rocket, like a transmitter that keeps repeating "Hello, Kitty!", we're not going to look too good.

But there's a much bigger reason the military is hoping they don't have to shoot down the North Korean missile:

They'd probably miss it.

The U.S. program has had trouble shooting down missiles when they knew the launch time and there was a transmitter on the missile to guide the anti-missile system to attack it.

Neither side wants to deal with these sorts of PR nightmares. They'll find some nice compromise.

I propose to name this new resulting doctrine as the Bush Doctrine of MAE:

Mutually Assured Embarassment.

Dad worked for weeks downstairs in the laundry. Balsa dust lightly covered the floor. Drops and smears of Elmer's glue found themselves in a few too many places. Pieces of cardboard mixed with instructions and balsa fragments on the table. Even though most of the spray painting was done outdoors, the smell penetrated the rest of the house when the models came inside.

I could barely contain myself when I learned what was coming. Dad arranged with the 4th grade science teacher to hold a rocket launch at our grade school. At first, I was excited about the rockets, but as the day grew closer, an awareness dawned: my Dad was putting on the rocket launch.

The day of the launch held one more surprise: the entire 4th grade (not just my class) attended the launch. For one day, even the people who teased me unmercifully were glad I existed. For a grade-school child, there's nothing greater than something that gets you out of class — and it was my Dad putting on the launch.

I have only vague memories of the launches themselves. According to the safety manual, all rockets were supposed to be launched electrically, but that never worked. Dad used fuse, saving time and frustration. Because he was using fuse, I couldn't help as much. I'd been careful to not clue my parents in on just how familiar I was with matches, lighters, and putting out serious fires. I did what I could to help my Dad. I didn't have to sit with everyone else. This was back before modern rocketry; all the motors were of the black powder 1/2 A, A, B, and C size.

The Sputnik-Too was everyone's favorite. Picture a 3 in. diameter styrofoam ball with four antenna "legs" trailing. The motor was mounted in the styrofoam ball. The rocket was both so light and so poorly designed aerodynamically that there was no parachute; it used "featherweight" recovery. One was painted florescent orange, the other left unpainted. There had been a third Sputnik-Too made, but that was where my Dad discovered that some paints can melt styrofoam.

The Sprite, my favorite rocket because of it's ring fin, was painted red and white. The Sprite recovered by "tumble" recovery. tumble it did — right onto the school roof and into the gutter above my first grade classroom, never to be seen again. We actually got back the rocket that used parachute recovery, amazing since parachute recovery was very unreliable for the smaller models.

Everyone sat in rapt attention. We didn't behave that well when the symphony showed up… perhaps especialy when the symphony showed up. The smoke from the rocket exhaust spread over us and dissipated quickly, but the smell of burnt black powder lingered on us for the rest of the day.

Dad spent a lot of money on that show, something I didn't appreciate then. I was just concerned that we hadn't gotten a number of the rockets back — roof and trees kept some of my Dad's hard work. My Dad put his arm around me and told me not to worry.

To this day, when I smell burnt black powder, I think back to that day in 1968. I think of my Dad.

He's been gone almost 12 years now. There were many other notable times: rocket launches, fishing trips (though we were terrible at fishing), attempts to get past my frustration to teach me to golf, vacations, getting treated for skateboard-induced road rash (despite his orders I not skateboard), being permitted in the car after playing in the barn at a friend's birthday party, all of the concerts he attended, the road race he showed up to cheer for me as I finished, graduations, my wedding, and too many funerals.

But today, as I think of my father, I can inhale deeply and, though I'm seated at a keyboard, I can smell the black powder burning on a spring afternoon.

Masten Space Systems says it will launch your experiment into space for $99.

So what could I do with it?

I've played around with a number of ideas, but the problem is, there's no decent scientific research I could do that would fit in a package that small. The odds of me building something that small that would be useful are even less. Y'all have seen my pysanky eggs, and my soldering is worse.

Stuffing the can with collectables (stamps, etc) probably isn't a very effective means of making money. Everyone will be doing that. The first flight, if you can manage to cancel some letters with stamps on them, will sell well. By the third flight, you can bet the "Flown Space" items on eBay will start dropping in price. I might send up some tchotchkes just to make my own personal items. For $99 it's a good deal. But it still seems to be a waste.

Then it hit me. Buy a $99 can and give it to a local grade school. I bet the grade school kids will come up with some experiment to launch — probably flower seeds or something. Honestly, there won't be any real scientific value to the experiment itself. But the kids will get some hands-on experience and quite possibly generate some enthusiasm for science.

And that, my friends, would be a fantastic use of a soda-sized can sent into space.

Many of my readers have watched a little "A" or "B" powered Estes rocket take off at the local playground. Well, rocketry hobbyists like myself still fly those — but we're also known for flying larger rockets. What Peter Clay found out about his rocket is astonishing!

Peter Clay's rocket is called the U.S.S. Bakula. That's a joke — the basic rocket is the PML Quantum Leap, and Scott Bakula played "Sam Beckett," the Quantum Leaper on the TV show "Quantum Leap." Bakula also played Captain Jonathan Archer on the TV show "Enterprise," which was set in the Star Trek universe, where space ships have the prefix "U.S.S."

Knowing the two stages would take the rocket past the sound barrier, Peter Clay added fiberglass to "G-10″ fins. I have some G-10 material for one of my future projects, and the stuff does not want to bend. The fiberglass sounds like overkill.

It's not.

If you look at the various pictures and videos on the the site, you'll see those fins flex and warp in insane ways. Were there not photographic evidence, I don't think anyone would believe how much these fins distorted once the rocket went faster than the speed of sound.

In hobby rocketry, we're still learning about breaking the sound barrier. Videos like this will help us to advance the science further.

And besides, it's fun!

Do you remember how the White Knight airplane carried SpaceShip One up into the air, and then SpaceShip One went on its sub-orbital hop? Imagine you had a plane that was bigger than White Knight and a spaceship more powerful than SpaceShip One. Imagine that larger spaceship was so powerful it could go into orbit. That is a two-stage to orbit craft in rocket science lingo.

The military apparently built one. Getting into orbit is only half the problem — could it return without being destroyed? Was it operational? Why am I only hearing about this now?

Ok, maybe I heard about this earlier, but it was garbled. The described first stage sounds a lot like the a mysterious transonic plane from the 90s. If it was merely the carrier for a spacecraft, the whole story makes a lot more sense.

Do you remember that whole "secret shuttle" thing on "West Wing?" Maybe that wasn't so farfetched.

Read the Aviation Week and Space Technology article "Two-Stage-to-Orbit 'Blackstar' System Shelved at Groom Lake?" You probably know Groom Lake as "Area 51."

Why was this program dropped? That's the $64 billion dollar question — given the cost of this program that might not be a joke even. For observation of enemy targets, the "Blackstar" concept is brilliant. There's no warning — the enemy can't cover up your missiles or whatever when you know a satellite is about to pass overhead. With North Korea and Iran and other states causing problem (and even Al Qaida), a ship like this would be quite useful.

Suitsat-1, nicknamed "Ivan Ivanovich," was reported to have stopped transmitting two orbits after it was released from the International Space Station. But today, the ARRL (the national organization for amateur radio operators in the United States) reports that the jury-rigged satellite is still transmitting, although weakly.

Among other recommendations, Bauer said stations hoping to get a clean copy of the SuitSat-1 signal will need "as high a gain antenna as possible with mast mounted pre-amps." Earth stations shouldn't bother with passes below 40 degrees in elevation. "We have found that closest approach provides several seconds of SuitSat communication with 22-element Yagis," he said. "The 'gold' we are looking for right now is the telemetry information and how long the vehicle stays operational. So if you hear any of the telemetry, please let us know."

I won't be able to hear the signal clearly with my equipment. I have a 6 element quad antenna, not nearly good enough¹. I might still be able to hear something on the pass, so I still might try during one of the passes over Pittsburgh. If cold is indeed the problem, the suit may even be easier to hear if it happens to warm up unexpectedly. Of course, if it's snowy and cold, I may just decide to roll over and go back to sleep. We'll see what happens.

If anyone's interested in going, I'll be heading up to Maize Field in Pleasant Hills. Leave a comment with your e-mail and I'll get back to you.

1. The more elements an antenna has, the better it can pick up and "concentrate" the signal it hears. Quads (squares of wire) are a bit better than Yagis (straight wires), but there's no way a 6 element can compare with 22 elements, and I don't have a pre-amp I could mount on the mast. [back]

So I'm sitting here, trying to not watch the pre-pre-pre-game Super Bowl hype. What is there to do? How about trying to find a use for some used electronics equipment? I've never been good at this, which is why I don't work for Mythbusters.

Well, there's this used test thingie with obvious electronics inside. What can I do with that? A lot less than you'd think.

Getting the thing open was far tougher than it should have been. I managed to get the plastic case apart, but dislodging the electronics from the plastic case almost stumped me. I pried and twisted and struggled and almost decided to go for brute force when I noticed a screw. I bet the Mythbusters would have looked for a screw. I didn't.

The middle piece is the most interesting part. On the right is an "eject mechanism" for the test strip. It's clever, although it seems to be based on a gum band (rubber band for all you non-Pittsburghers). Once the band breaks, it's done for. I know folks that have built "toy bomb releases" for radio controlled airplanes from Equal tablet dispensers, but I'm not that good.

The electronics itself appears to be pretty specific to the task it's designed for. With more test strips, one could do more tests, but the test strips may be matched to the electronics, so that's not a good idea. The battery can be salvaged, I guess.

I might just be able to unsolder the screen. Working out the pin-outs might be a little more difficult, but even I might be able to do that. Getting something to activate the pin-outs properly…that might be beyond me.

That's a shame, because I've got just the use for it. In high power rocketry, the altimeter connects to small explosive charges that send out the parachutes. Now, having the ejection charges fire while the rocket is still on the ground is both dangerous and really, really annoying. To prevent such an "oopsie," the altimeter is "armed" once the rocket is placed on the launch pad. One of the problems, though, is that the beeping of the altimeter, saying it's ready to go, can be difficult to hear. I have trouble with that because of my years as a paramedic.

Using this screen to let me know when the altimeter of my rocket is armed would be useful. I wonder, though, what other people would think. Would they undertand that "Not Pregnant" meant the altimeter is not armed, and "Pregnant" meant it was?

I don't even know if the "Pregnant" circuit works on this machine. That's also why I'm dismantling this thing and trying to figure out what to do with it. Tearing this thing apart has been a good way to keep from thinking about the results.

If I can make this a rocket readout, at least something good would have come of this gizmo.