Krackerjac Mk. I and Mk. II
VOICE OFFSTAGE: Here we go again! From opposite schools of design, our coauthors have managed a second (and last, one presumes) unlikely collaboration. West Coaster Evans, who loves straight-up and 140º-plus flybys, is known for his philosophy that horizontal tails are tantamount to buggy-whip technology. East Coaster prehistoric old-timer Bill Winter is a go-slow airplane watcher who thinks that straight-up folks harbor hidden rocketry complexes. Still, they found middle ground and produced the Krackerjac MK I and II.
For Openers
Fantastic! The gadget we saw last night was so far out . . . Picture this. You flip the prop on your scale job and the big engine bursts into life. But it does not roar like a model engine. Instead, you hear the popping sound of, say, your five-cylinder Kinner. It is called an "Exhaust Sound Distributor." At a glance, it looks much like a prop-drive set-up, but the gearing operates a timed valve arrangement in a cylindrical muffler, from which projects five (evidently, this might be varied) short exhaust stacks, arranged radially. Flip it as you hold it (dead) and distinctive pops come out of the appropriate stacks. When it runs it isn't loud, and it sounds more like a real engine than a model one. The noise level is not more than that of a 4-cycle engine, not harsh, no bite. To hear the thing idel is to lose your mind. All we lack now are scale fumes!
For Openers
The Piper Cub. What accounts for its everlasting appeal as a modeling subject? It flies well? Many planes fly well. It is simple? Hundreds of airplanes are simple. It is famous? So are many others. But why is it famous? After the Wright Flyer, the Cub could be history's most celebrated flying machine. Like Smokey the Bear, it has a lasting image. The "Cub." "Cub Yellow." Millions of people know what it is. For 40-odd years, it has been darn near part of our language. This little two-seater, a simple frame of barebones steel tubing, is some kind of magic. It upstaged its automotive counterpart, Henry Ford's always-black "tin lizzie." It lives on, and on. It is one of a unique handful of machines which, filling a niche perfectly, earned singular prestige, as did the DC-3 among transport aircraft. The Cub springs quickly to mind whenever one tries to list the workaday super stars of 75 years of flying history. No humbler design ever acquired such a mystique.
For Openers
THE ARTIcle beginning on page 56, Adventures in Modeling, begins a unique series. It was supposed to be a product review thing. All magazines belong to a plug-the-product cult, and we sort of felt we were running around naked by not going with the mob. So eight months ago we began to talk to Bob Harrah about how to deal with products in a way that made reader enjoyment paramount and commercialism secondary. Since Bob lives in San Diego and F.O. on the East Coast, the discussions dragged on like the preliminaries of SALT II. We decided to take a "We Fly" approach after the manner of flying magazines which report on various aircraft. While, like us, Bob detests unvarnished plugs, he holds the profound view that an energetic industry that gives us so many wondrous things to play with, is what really makes our modeling world go round.
For Openers
A little innocent fun is always good for the soul. We've been poking fun at Mother (Aerodynamics) Nature and so far have not been deafened by thunder, or blinded by lightning. That's probably because, like a woodchuck, we've been careful to have hidden escape tunnels. The fine print always states that apparent contradictions, and seemingly unexplainable things, always come full circle and bow to the decrees of aerodynamic laws. In plain English we don't relish having our ears pinned to the wall by all those erudite engineers among our audience. So here we go again.
