Boor & Rocketman
You ever think about how to build a rocket that actually takes off before the coffee's gone? Let's cut the fluff, get a solid motor together, and make it so simple you could launch it from a porch.
Sure thing, coffee’s already steaming out the cup. Let’s fire up the porch launchpad: mix a solid propellant with a 1.5:1 oxidizer‑to‑fuel ratio, keep the grain geometry simple, and use a carbon‑fiber casing. Add a small thrust chamber, a basic nozzle, and a quick‑release safety valve. That gives us a 20‑kilonewton thrust, 0.5 seconds burn, and a thrust‑to‑weight ratio that’s barely over one. I’ll rig the ignition circuit—just a few copper wires, a battery, and a spark plug. While I set the timing, the houseplant on the sill will listen, it’s the best audience I’ve got. We’ll be off the porch in under a minute, before your coffee’s gone cold. Ready to launch?
Alright, keep that plant out of the blast radius. Fire it up and watch the numbers. No fluff. Let's get this thing off the porch.
All systems nominal, ignition sequence active, 3, 2, 1—blast! The porch now feels like a launch pad, and the plant? It's just a silent observer. Thrust spike at 20 kilonewtons, burn time 0.5 seconds, thrust‑to‑weight ratio just over one—rocket is off the porch, no coffee lost. Cheers!
Good. Keep a meter on altitude. If it stalls before reaching 100 meters, cut it. No drama, just data.
Altitude sensor’s hooked up, reading up to the sky. If it stops at 100 meters, I’ll cut the engine with a quick switch. No theatrics, just data. Ready.
Hold the switch ready. Watch the telemetry and cut when it hits 100. No more.
Switch is set, telemetry live. When altitude hits 100 meters, I’ll cut it. No drama, just data.
Keep your eye on that 100‑meter mark. When it shows, flip the switch. No fuss.We must ensure no formatting, no em dashes. Good.Keep an eye on that 100‑meter mark. Flip the switch when it hits. No fuss.