Dress Rehearsals are Important
I guess I'm a little rusty with the joysticks on my drone controller. I was at Granada Park taking pictures of the SpaceX launch the other night. I had two cameras, my phone, a drone, two leashes with poop bags, and a couple of cattle dogs to keep track of, but that didn't deter me in the slightest.
We were at the upper lake with both cameras set up (one for movies and the other for stills), the drone was up in the air, my phone was out and ready, and I was counting down the seconds until the launch at Vandenburg, 530 miles to the west. Stella and Buddy sat nearby, patiently waiting for whatever was going to happen next.
Don was right, of course, and I should have listened to him because the rocket's exhaust plume was so faint I could barely make it out; it didn't even appear on the camera shooting video. Regardless, I took dozens of still images with the other camera. The drone continued to record, and the denouement went exactly as Don had predicted.
The non-spectacle was over in moments. With a sigh, I collapsed the tripods, packed up the camera gear, and put the phone back in my pocket. Next, I grabbed my controller and toggled the right joystick to bring the drone back in for a landing, but instead, I sent it in the opposite direction, crashing 20 feet up into a nearby pine tree, where it nested, blinking accusingly at me.
I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed my ham-fisted error, but only a few dads were fishing with their kids nearby. They eventually packed up and asked solicitously if I needed any help, but I told them I would probably come back in the morning when it was light to get the drone, so they left.
I knew it was a lie as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I waited until the group had disappeared into the parking lot while I fumed silently and stared at the errant drone, balefully blinking high in the tree above me. Slowly, a plan formed. I walked over to the heavy-duty picnic table 10 yards away, grabbed it, and dragged it across the grass until we both rested under the offending pine tree. One of us was exhausted.
Mentally calculating my path up through the tree limbs to the drone, I scissored my way up to the first branch, pausing momentarily to congratulate myself on my physical prowess, mixed with incredulity and awe that I had even made it that far.
The rest was pretty straightforward. Scrapes, tree sap, pinecones, and needles brought back wonderful childhood memories, and before I knew it, the errant drone was within reach! I snagged it, folded it up, and stuffed it down the front of my T-shirt so I would have both hands free for the descent.
It was neither pretty nor elegant, but I finally dropped back down onto the picnic table with the drone intact. The shoot had been a total bust, but the rescue mission made up for it. Foolhardy, certainly, but way too much fun! That said, I hope I never have to do it again.
Another launch is scheduled for Monday night just after 9 p.m. The conditions should be much better, so tonight was just a dress rehearsal.
Addendum: The Monday night launch from Vandenberg SFB got scrubbed at the last minute. My return to the same spot actually had three additional benefits: first, I got to do another dress rehearsal and located the real-time feed for the launch. Secondly, I did not fly the drone into the tree tonight! Finally, since I was flying, I got to work on my night drone photography and got this:
