“I smell nitro!”

Late yesterday afternoon (Sunday, March 15, 2009) I took our dog for her afternoon walk.
More precisely, the dog takes me for a walk. I get yanked and pulled this way and that.
Our walk was to the infamous Michael Prouty Park, on the cinder paths around the soccer fields.
Two young dudes were on the un-athletic field part. They appeared to be doing car-work on a partially paved area off the parking-lot.
I passed closely without a word, and began our hike around the soccer fields.
Returning, the dog angled across the parking-lot toward the un-athletic field.
We climbed the embankment, and headed back toward the sullen dudes.
Suddenly: BRR-APP-UH! BRR-APP-UH!
Off it went; a tiny radio-controlled monster-truck model, powered by a tiny model-airplane engine.
“I smell nitro!” I cried.
“Yep,” sullen-dude with the radio controller said. “Burning nitromethane (‘neye-tro-METH-ain’) fuel.”
Same smell I smelled as a child at the model-airplane field in Camden County Park near Haddonfield.
Those planes were on tethers — radio-control was just starting then. They flew in circles.
I was so thrilled my father bought me a small plastic tethered model-airplane powered by a glow-plug .049 nitro-burning engine.
I think it was a Christmas present.
The air intake was a slot in the cylinder the descending piston uncovered so that intake air blew into the cylinder from the prop wash.
It was a two-stroke, and the exhaust blew out the back of the same slot.
Ignition was a glow-plug in the cylinder-head. Get it hot enough (at first with a battery), and the fuel-air charge self-ignited.
Engine running, the glow-plug remained hot.
Fuel was metered into a spray that blew into the cylinder with the air-charge.
It was sloppy, but it worked. It relied on the extreme explosiveness of nitromethane fuel, a mixture of methyl alcohol and oily nitroglycerine.
It was the nitroglycerine that was explosive; it was very unstable and used to make dynamite.
I was deathly afraid of crashing my model-airplane. I’d seen it happen. A beautiful model of a P51 Mustang dived into the earth and was reduced to smithereens.
I never flew my plane myself.
A model-airplane geek at the field got it started and flew it.
I hardly ever got it lit. Model-airplane engines are notoriously hard to start. You spin the prop with your finger; hoping it will catch, and then continue running because the prop-wash is blowing fuel into the cylinder, and exhaust out.
Starting has advanced. Now the prop gets spun with a battery-powered drill.
A hobby shop in Haddonfield was selling nitro-burning model-airplane engines, and .049 cubic centimeters is tiny. They had engines as big as a half cubic centimeter. That’s big enough to spin a huge prop.
I don’t think I ever saw anything that big run. The biggest at the model-airplane field was maybe one-eighth cubic-inch.
Hairman does model-airplanes, but radio-control. One time he stopped his giant Chevy Caprice station-wagon in front of our house and rearranged his giant J3 Piper-Cub model airplane. It had a 10-foot wingspan.
My father took me to visit a radio-control geek in Erlton, and the guy showed me a Cub with a 12-foot wingspan. He had carried his cat in it. —Poor cat; probably terrified. Buzz-saw right in front, and heavy with nitro-exhaust fumes.
Hairman noted the fact methyl alcohol burns with an invisible flame. —The only way he knew his model-airplane was on fire, was parts melting.
The biggest nitro burners I ever saw were fuel dragsters, e.g. “Big Daddy” Don Garlits.
A car-engine would be converted to burn nitromethane: “fuel.” In the ‘60s, a fuel dragster might get 1,600 horsepower; now they’re hitting 6,000+ horsepower.
A fuel dragster is an experience you never forget. Back then they would spin the tires (“burn rubber”) the whole quarter-mile. At that time they were pushing 200 mph — now they’re hitting 300+!
A fuel dragster would make a run, and it was so loud you had to cover your ears. —You had no choice, and that was 50 yards away in the grandstand.
Over, the air wreaked of nitro smell; just like the model airplane field.
Although the drag-guys were “tipping the nitro can,” adding more nitro to increase power output.
Doing so was risking blowing up the engine.

Our current dog is “Scarlett;” a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s almost four, and is our sixth Irish-Setter.

“Michael Prouty Park” is a town park near where we live. The land for it was donated by the Prouty family in honor of their deceased son (“Michael”) who used to play in that area. —It is mostly athletic fields, but has an open picnic pavilion. It’s maintained by the town. It also has an undeveloped field, the “un-athletic part.”

“Prop” equals propeller.

The “P51 Mustang” WWII fighter-plane, is the greatest propeller airplane of all time.

“Hairman” is my hair-dresser. I’ve gone to him at least 16-17 years.

The “J3 Piper-Cub” is essentially the airplane that established Piper Aircraft in the ‘40s. It’s a two-seat private airplane.

“Erlton” (‘EARL-tin’) is the small suburb of Philadelphia in south Jersey where I lived until I was 13. Erlton was founded in the ‘30s, named after its developer, whose name was Earl. Erlton was north of “Haddonfield,” an old Revolutionary town. (Haddonfield was in Camden County.)

A “drag-race” is start-to-finish over a straight and level paved quarter-mile; although sometimes drag-racing is held on the eighth-mile strip.

“Don Garlits,” of Gainesville, FL, raced top-fuel dragsters in the ‘60s and ‘70s. He was very successful.