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Texas Rennaissance Festival
Walking along the grass, I was startled by the cackle of an old hag, partly hidden in the bushes surrounding a park bench which she perched upon. Her face was a ghastly green color, her hair a mass of twigs and brambles and her fingers adorned with huge, gaudy rings. Looking me straight in the eye, she cackled again, delighting as I suppressed the urge to jump to one side.
Good thing I didn't jump, as coming the other way was a huge fellow in chain mail, muscles on rippling muscles, sword hanging easily at his side, ready for some clumsy oaf to get in his way.
Just another day in downtown Houston? Too many hours flying in the sun? Nope - this was the second-to-last week of the Texas Renaissance Festival, and we had been transported into this time warp by our Exec helicopter, just hours before.
As this was the middle of November, I had prepared for the trip by putting the doors on - recent rains had kept us on the ground for the past couple of weeks and I thought we'd appreciate a more air-tight enclosure for the hour's flight. A warm south-westerly wind changed my mind during the preflight, however - temperatures were quickly climbing into the mid-20's (Celsius) - there are some advantages living in the south! It took 3 minutes to remove the doors and, clad in shorts and T-shirts, we climbed in and lifted off.
An hour later found us over the festival grounds. We had been asked to stay East of the railway tracks running along the eastern side of the site, so I conducted a wide downwind and came around to descend into the designated helicopter clearing, keeping my flight path as far from the medieval participants as possible. There was a strong wind over the trees, so we descended as close to the near side of the clearing as possible, avoiding the wake turbulence over the trees ahead. The winds were gusting around 10 mph, even in this relatively sheltered area, so I was careful to keep the nose pointed into the wind as we hovered backwards and out of the way to the side, then set down. I was cautious to ensure the wind could not get behind us, where it could lift the tail, or to the side, where it could cause LTE. LTE (Loss of Tail Rotor Effectiveness) is a condition in which wind from the side can cause the tail rotor blades to stall, which can turn the helicopter into a fast merry-go-round.
Securing the helicopter, we slipped the headsets and portable GPS into a backpack and headed to the park gates for adventure.
Picture a couple hundred acres or so of medieval townsite. Add liberal doses of buxom maidens bursting their bustiers, fairies, goblins, knights, wizards, elves, sprites and the occasional Texan, and you'll start to get an idea of the other-worldly atmosphere. It was actually quite challenging, paying attention to the warrior princesses, while also keeping track of my wife, who disappeared into the shops as soon as she sensed my attention was diverted.
My luck held, and we (or at least our collective wallets) escaped the lure of the trinkets and we found several places to sit while being entertained by bands of troubadours, jugglers and comedians. However, the height of the event was certainly the jousting competition - where riders would actually joust with real (blunt) lances and real horses. Flying a helicopter into a clearing on a windy day seemed positively sedate by comparison!
All too soon, the clock struck midnight (well, 3:00, actually), and we stepped out of our glass slippers and back into the cockpit of the Rotorway.
Unfortunately, the winds had not diminished, so I knew it would be a slow flight home, but the immediate concern was turbulence over the trees. We carefully backed up in a hover, stopping every few feet to turn slightly to the side and confirm we were not going to come up against anything solid, until we were close to the leeward side of the clearing. This was going to be an interested test of performance. It was about 26 degrees outside, with nearly full fuel (we had flown up with an extra 6 gallons in the jerry can on the pilots-side skid) and with the two of us on board, we were moderately close to gross weight. Fortunately, field elevation was only 300 feet, and I soon saw there was little reason to worry. Rolling power on and pulling up on the collective, we climbed vertically skyward for a high performance takeoff. At about 50 feet, I moved the cyclic forward and within a couple of seconds, felt the nibbling edge of translation and the blades picked up efficiency. This combined to create a fairly interesting ascent profile - moderate climb rate, then lessened climb rate with forward cyclic, then strong climb again as we came through translation. We passed over the trees at the edge of the clearing at about 65 mph, with plenty of altitude to spare.
Once clear of the trees, the headwind hit full force, dropping our groundspeed to about 50 mph at times, no matter what altitude we tried. Given the constant headwind, we decided on 1500 feet altitude, which meant that most of the time, we were within autorotation distance of a suitable clearing.As we flew home, we kept a close eye on distance to go, fuel on the guage, and time elapsed (isn't GPS wonderful!). With our low groundspeed, we figured there was a good chance we would be stopping for gas along the way, either at an airport, or a roadside gas station. As it turned out, however, the jerry can wasn't needed. The winds shifted somewhat and our groundspeed picked up to 60 mph, and then, as we rounded the antenna farm on the SW side of Houston Hobby airspace, our groundspeed rocketed up to 110 mph. When we touched down at the hangar, we still had 30 minutes left in the tanks. Total trip time: 2:15. The jerry can I emptied into our tanks at the festival gave us the extra fuel we needed and a comfortable reserve.
I breathed a small sigh of relief. We had a great day's adventure, and the helicopter handled our longest trip yet without a burp, snort or stumble. As the rotor blades wound down (I love that "swoosh" sound!), Avril spotted the faraway look in my eye and the grin on my face. She figured I was just enjoying the aftermath of a satisfying flight.
Truth was, I was still thinking about that swordswoman, straining her chain-mail bikini top. . . :)
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