RADIO CONTROL GIANTS
John A. de Vries
4610 Moffat Lane, Colorado Springs, CO 80915
With your kind indulgence, I'm going to begin this month's column with a "fairy story." Like all good fairy stories, this one begins with "Once upon a time ..."
Once upon a time there was a poor-but-honest radio-control builder and flier. He had been building small-but-flyable scale models in his basement workshop. Every evening after supper he would descend the stairs to his shop and begin to tinker with balsa, plywood, and the other magical materials there. From time to time, his skillful efforts would be realized in a beautiful, multicolored model airplane, complete with a glow-plug engine and a complex array of electronic equipment.
Saturday afternoons, when the weather was fair and the wind was only hinting at a zephyr, he'd take his beautiful airplane out to his club field. After checking the radio and filling the gas tank with glow fuel, he'd entrust his current masterpiece to the mercy of the air. Most of the time, his model would fly and give him much pleasure as he bent it through a routine of aerobatics.
Alas, however, our poor-but-honest model airplane builder and flier began to feel the effects of age. His eyes and reactions dimmed and slowed, and he had difficulty keeping track of his beautiful scale models when they were in the air. "Woe is me," lamented our hero. "Whatever can I do to maintain my flying pleasures?"
Then it came to him — he would build bigger scale models that not only would be easier to see, but would also fly more slowly.
Unfortunately, his one-time model engine "powerhouses" proved woefully inadequate for the giant Taylor Cub he was building. Once again, he had an inspiration — this time while he was trimming the trees in his backyard. "There's nothing that says that I can't remove the gasoline-powered engine from my chain saw and adapt it to my big Cub!" And so he did.
First, he removed all of the extraneous bits and pieces from the chain-saw engine that wouldn't contribute to it working as an airplane power plant. Then he called on his machining skills and adapted the engine to turn a big propeller. He had to find a gas tank and fuel lines that wouldn't be affected by the gas/oil mixture the engine required.
For a while, he was concerned with the effects of the engine's ignition system on the operation of his radio. He faced the engine compartment with a flat piece of aluminum and shielded the chain saw's high-tension spark-plug lead with a bit of copper screening.
Wonder of wonders! His giant-scale Cub flew with all the ease of the real airplane. Nice and slow, it soared in the Saturday afternoon sun. Our hero could keep track of it, and his aging eyes were able to keep the big model in sight easily. He was a happy man! For the price of the chain saw—less than $90—he had a reliable power plant that would motivate his giant-scale models.
Our story doesn't quite end here. Some very clever Canadians heard of our hero's magical engine transformation. They reasoned, "Why should giant-scale model builders have to buy a chain saw and throw away all those useless bits and pieces in order to make a suitable giant model airplane engine? We'll buy the chain-saw engines from the manufacturer and modify them for model aircraft use on a production-line basis." And they did! Our hero was able to buy an airplane-ready engine to power his second giant-scale model for a very reasonable $85!
Remember, this is a fairy story.
Soon there were others who saw the trend to larger-and-larger radio-controlled models. They decided to get into the gasoline-powered model engine business. They used everything from small weed-trimmer engines to massive hummers from the biggest chain saws, converted engines intended for snowmobiles to model airplanes almost big enough for their builders to get into and fly.
Here is where the fairy story starts to unravel. The "new" engine converters soon became overly enthusiastic when it came to pricing their engines. Inflation and the effects of currency value fluctuations between countries played a big part in how much they charged for their big model engines. The hero of our story soon found that $1,000 engines were way too expensive for his modeling budget. Even the least-expensive engines for his airplanes were $300 or more.
So, what did our hero do? He went to his neighborhood hardware store and purchased a simple gas-powered weed whacker. He retired to his basement workshop and took out his tools once again — and made himself an engine for $73.95 plus sales tax and his labor!
The moral of our story? It's a good idea to take "shop" in high school, or at least learn machining skills if you want to minimize the cost of your giant-scale model(s).
Our British friend and columnist Phillip Kent is one of the most prolific model designers I know; you may remember his Alexander Bullet from the November 1995 Model Aviation. His Aeronca C-1 Razorback graced the pages of another U.S. model airplane journal.
A recent letter from Phil advised that he has several other attractive designs—most of them are International Miniature Aircraft Association–legal. For example, he's just finished a dazzling quarter-scale Little Toot, the home-built biplane. He chose to decorate his model as the Hawk P'shaw, which duplicated the 1930s Curtiss P-6E color scheme. He has drawn building plans for the Tipsy Junior in almost 1/3 scale. The Tipsy is suitable for four-stroke engines in the 0.75 to 1.20 cubic-inch range. He also has a great set of plans for the Mohawk Pinto low-wing monoplane—another biggie.
Phil has drawings for the Miles Sparrowhawk in quarter-scale, and he has completed plans for a great Fairchild 24 with the Warner radial engine. He has a 1/3-scale version of the British Comper Swift light high-wing monoplane of the 1930s, plus two other quarter-scalers—a Hendy Hobo and a Taylor 2D. Prototype models are being constructed of these latest designs—as all good designers do, Phil makes sure his airplanes fly before offering their plans for sale.
If you want to bolt together any of Phil's great airplanes, the drawings are readily available in the U.S. from Bob Holman:
- Bob Holman, Box 741, San Bernardino, CA 92402 — Bob has all of Phil's flight-proven drawings and scale three-views.
Although I never checked out in one, I did get to sit in the cockpit of a Republic P-47N when I was a young (and short) lieutenant. After a bunch of time in a Mustang's relatively compact office, the cockpit of the "Jug" seemed like it was as big as a bowling alley! With the exception of the stick and rudder pedals, I had a heck of a time reaching anything under the canopy.
I've always admired scale versions of the big Thunderbolt, and Roy Vaillancourt offers some really neat kits and drawings for razorback and bubble-canopy versions of the airplane. The model's a big one—with a 92-inch wingspan it's suitable for 3.2 to 4.2 cubic-inch engines. One dollar brings a copy of Roy's catalog.
If you're fascinated by between-the-wars military airplanes, J. C. Fredriksen produces a slim reference volume that's jam-packed with all sorts of model plans for that period. The currently available Volume 2 contains 94 pages of detailed references to plans which are eminently adaptable to enlargement to giant-scale sizes. John's books are well worth the $15, and if you purchase all five volumes in his series (from World War I to the Jet Age), you'll save $20.
Resources
- Roy Vaillancourt, 18 Oakdale Ave., Farmingville, NY 11738 — Kits and drawings for P-47 variants; catalog $1.
- J. C. Fredriksen, 461 Loring Ave., Salem, MA 01970 — Reference volumes of between-the-wars model plans; Volume 2, $15 (series discount available).
The leaves will soon be turning, and it'll be about time to consider your project for next year. Make it a giant, and make it scale—it'll be worth the effort!
Transcribed from original scans by AI. Minor OCR errors may remain.
