I’ve always loved flying kites. Whenever a strong, steady wind comes up, my thoughts turn to launching the rhombus or diamond-shaped kite. Sure, there are a variety of shapes available—box, airplane, dragon, delta wing, C-kite, and more—but I’m dedicated to the jewel.
In my boyhood, lightweight plastic kites didn’t exist. In the good old days, kites were made of paper and balsa wood, affordable for most every kid. Assembly required attention to detail. In preparing for flight, one had to take care not to bend the balsa wood struts too far, lest they snap, Yet, one had to bend them far enough to achieve the proper bowed shape for adequate lift. I must admit that, as a youngster, my life was filled with the disappointment of snapped balsa wood.
Ripped paper was another nemesis. There were no pre-made holes to slip the string through for fastening to the center of the frame. A mistake with a pen knife created an unwanted gash in the air foil. Tape would repair the damage but, depending on the size of the tear, might disturb the balance at higher altitude.
Cloth rags for tails helped stabilize the flimsy craft in strong winds. The question always arose: how long should the tail be? If it were too short, the wind would buffet the kite and make it difficult to control. If the the tail were too long, the kite would drag. This was a great lesson in aerodynamics. With experience, the pilot, yours truly, learned to guess a a proper length for a tail by estimating the wind force. The only sure test was seeing what worked. Lengths of rag, knotted one to another, could be added or subtracted. There was a sense of satisfaction in getting the tail just right.
As my skill improved, I learned to keep extra balls of string available. The one thing you never wanted to happen—running out of string—especially when your kite was higher than it had ever been before. How much higher could it go? As they say, the sky’s the limit. The goal was to get that kite so far up you could hardly see it. My wishful inner voice would say, “I don’t believe it. I could be approaching outer space.” The down side: winding in the string fast enough, trying to save the kite for another day, when the time came to descend.
It seemed that the ability to control the kite degraded the further it lifted away from earth. With so much string out, the soaring diamond, on its way back down, might have an increased chance of straying into a building or a tree top, or, God forbid, a power line. That was the moment that connected young boys to flying ace, Chuck Yeager. Knowing when to bail out when a crash landing appeared imminent. In my case, the decision involved cutting the string.
If it were possible to bring that high flyer back to earth safely from its journey navigating the heavens, without mishap or structural damage, the voyage was more than a success. It was a triumph of boy over wind and gravity. Those were the glory days of youth, my friend.
My father born before the first human flight, was in love with the thought that Man could someday fly. He made many little kites out of tissue paper and balsa wood and many of them were flown up beyond up human sight, on a light string of thead. He loved the the idea that human flight would someday be possible Maybe he is still up there flying his little tissue paper kits that he loved do much..
I think kite flyers all over the world are like your father. They're connected to flight "on a light string of thread."
Thanks, Chuck.