BORN TO FLY
DEATH STIK .80!
By Jim Graham | jimtgraham@yahoo.com
IN THIS INSTALLMENT OF “crashes and near-misses,” I’ll go over the flight that almost stopped my RC career before it ever started.
In my May 2021 column, I related the story of accidentally purchasing my first RC airplane. I learned a lot on that aircraft and flew it every day. As every good RC pilot knows, one airplane is simply a steppingstone to the next. I wanted something cool, something red, and something fast!
No, it wasn’t the P-51 that every new RC pilot wanted. I wanted an Ugly Stik. The name alone was enough to catch my attention, but that airframe had heightened my hopes of performing amazing rolls, killer loops, and, if I was lucky, knife-edge flight. The mere thought of being able to pull off any of these feats was enough to make me smile to myself in a maniacal way.
Putting The Fiver trainer together had me ready to do expert things, such as using the same servos in the ailerons and adjusting the surfaces for “maximum throw.” And, of course, I had to buy a really powerful, secondhand engine. The build itself was uneventful because it was an ARF. I think it went together in a week instead of a month like the Scorpio trainer I had started on. I worked closely with Bryce Custer, my flight instructor, to make sure I was doing everything correctly. There were many phone calls and meetups at the field.
Now I am at the key part of this story—the engine. My little Ugly Stik was a .40-size airplane, but being new to the RC world, I was sure that it needed a large engine. I figured it was like a car—bigger must be better. If it called for a .40-size glow engine, wouldn’t an .80-size engine be twice as good?
Bryce tried to talk me out of it, but I thought I knew what I was doing. I procured an .80-size two-stroke engine but could not find a pipe for it. I found something on Bryce’s workbench and borrowed that. It did not fit exactly, so I had to do some “mods” to it to make it work. All of the pieces were finally in place!
After I had the engine installed, I had to name this fiery, red beast of an RC airplane. After a few nights of deliberation, I landed on the most perfect name: the Death Stik .80! The airplane perfectly fit the name. It was red, it was packing some big power, and it was mean looking. All it needed now was for a beginner pilot to take the “sticks” and blaze a trail of glory in the sky over Nashville, Tennessee!
At this point in the game, I had only flown with Bryce. I called to let him know that Monday morning was go time! He broke the news that he was going to be out of town that whole week but said I had done enough flying to maiden that airplane on my own. He was surer about that than I was.
When Monday morning rolled around, I loaded up the airplane, my chicken stick, and all of my gear. I still wasn’t convinced whether I was going to go through with the first flight or not, but I was hoping some of the club members might be there to help me out. When I arrived, the field was empty. I unloaded the Death Stik and fueled it up.
I was running the engine when a van rolled in. A pilot walked up and asked about my airplane. Before I go there, I’d like to discuss this pilot for a moment.
This man was a helicopter pilot. He flew hard and crashed every helicopter I had ever seen him fly. First, he would wow everyone, and then he would just slam his newest heli into the ground. He never fixed them; he just bought a new one. This did not go over well with his wife and she protested every time he left for the field. One day, he showed up and realized his wife had poured Super Glue into the gimbals on his transmitter. That is 100% true.
I explained my problem and the huge desire to fly the dangerously good-looking Death Stik .80. He smiled and said he would be happy to be my wingman. I taxied around the runway once and commenced to blaze my trail of RC glory into the sky.
My club field, at that time, was a round, paved spot on the top of a small hill. Because the wind was blowing toward us, I took off headed straight out toward the field away from us. I powered up, rolled out to takeoff, powered up more, and continued to roll. I powered up more and rolled
right off the edge of the runway, my airplane disappearing behind the lip of the hill. This was where things went wrong.
After losing sight of the Death Stik, I did what my instincts demanded ... I went full throttle. That big .80 two-stroke roared to life and, to our amazement, it rose from behind the hill with the nose straight up, like a Phoenix. This was startling enough for me, but at the same moment, when I realized I was airborne and headed to the sky, the “modified” muffler blew off. The noise was like going from a standard two-stroke engine sound to that of a dragster!
WaaaaaaaaaaaaaWAAAAAAAAAA! I can’t convey how unsettling that was. I was officially freaking out. My red Death Stik was screaming skyward at full throttle and I knew something had to be done, but I didn’t know exactly what that should be. It was at this point that my copilot jumped in with some suggestions. I want to imagine him as being as wide-eyed as I was and screaming these instructions at me: “Level off! Level off!” I did manage to level off, but it had not yet occurred to me that maybe I should throttle down.
Now the Death Stik was screaming away from us at a high rate of speed—and I mean headed off into the wooded park in front of us. “Turn left! Turn left!” I got it turned left and now it was screaming at full throttle over the treetops, parallel in front of us. It was at this time I went inverted (at full throttle). “Roll! Roll!” I rolled the airplane, but unfortunately, I did a full roll and was upside-down again. “Roll! Roll! Roll!” I rolled and was inverted again.
At this point, the airplane had traveled the entire length of the field in front of us and, just like that, disappeared behind the trees. That was it, I thought. The very exciting, but quick, end to my second RC airplane. (Note: I realize that this next part is unbelievable, but it did happen exactly this way.)
As soon as I realized that the Death Stik was gone, it rose back up. It went down behind a big tree, and then it was back in the air. It had enough altitude for me to fly over a creek and land in a cornfield.
We both stood perplexed, shocked, and tired from our shared experience. My copilot quickly made his exit. (I don’t think I ever saw him again at the field after this.) I drove over to the place where the airplane first went in and found the aluminum landing gear on the hard ground. All I can figure is that it hit in such a way that the gear sprung it back into the air. I realize that this is hard to fathom, but what else could have happened?
The Death Stik .80 lay in pieces in the cornfield. Its life as an RC airplane was as glorious and exciting as I had imagined, but much shorter than I had expected.
