Should have called it "out-of-control" line as it hit the tarmac PRETTY HARD on its maiden flight. The engine ended up in an RC boat!
My father built and flew some pretty large control line planes (almost 3 feet long/wide). The models would take up the entire surface of a spare table in the basement, as he put together their balsa wood frames, covered them with paper skins, and painted them up. I have memories of going with him to fly them, getting fingers oily to gas up those farty little engines, and being treated to some creative blasphemy when the props snapped back at Dad's fingers while he was trying to start them.
I most vividly recall one particular outing to a high school parking lot with an uncle (my father's younger brother) to fly a couple of them. After getting the model gassed and running, my father got it aloft, demonstrated its use, then let my uncle have the lines. My uncle took it around a few times to get up some real speed, then, with apparent premeditative intent and a mischievous smirk on his face, turned his arms - and the lines - suddenly
downward, deliberately crashing that airplane into smithereens against the parking lot, leaving the lines slack in his hands, connected to nothing but splinters.
I thought
for sure I was about to witness a murder, and be minus one uncle. Strangely enough though, I don't recall my father getting angry about this. We just cleaned up the debris, and went home.
My father gave up on the hobby not too long after that. He may have realized his son had picked up a "fun new idea" from his uncle on what to do with those planes.
