A CHALLENGE TO FIND

The ARBONET 2 recovery effort became an adventure in itself... Day 1: After the release of ARBONET 2, a few technical problems presented themselves, but fortunately, there were no show-stoppers. The APRS system worked nearly flawlessly, giving correct position information in latitude, longitude and altitude.  At balloon burst altitude, the parachute became entangled in the payloads and the antennas of the 10M RWK beacon and the voice beacon were made inoperative. After the balloon burst at altitude, the APRS still worked well all the way down to at least 5800 feet, so we had a very good idea the payloads would be within a known distance, and a calculated idea to a very close distance. The place we felt the payloads landed was full of Eastern Texas brush and thorns. With no RF signals, very dense and unfriendly brush, and a late day, the search was called off. ARBONET 2 was "temporarily misplaced". That Evening: Doug Loughmiller (W5BL), Louise Rau (K5RAU), her son Tyler and I (K5NOT) decided to stay in Clarkesville to undertake the adventure of walking into the brush and taking a shot at finding the payload. A quick trip to Walmart provided hunter orange hats, hiking boots, bug repellent and other gear to give some chance of survival to those entering the land in which smarter people do not go. Loaded up on a meal of carbs and protein, we were set to address tomorrow's challenges.  Day 2: We drove over an hour to get to the last known APRS fix. It was in the middle of nowhere. Either side of the road to nowhere revealed the personality of the forest, saying, "Y'all really don't want to come in here now." (That is the best southern accent this Yankee's got)... But we went.  After hours of hacking, fighting, snagging, and hiking around the massive labyrinth of marshy creeks or bogs and brush that seemed to have no particular direction or path in mind, we made it 0.4 miles towards our goal of 0.5 to 0.6 miles on a 039 degree heading from the 5800 foot level APRS fix. In one particular part of the maze of creek beds, Doug and I decided to split up and find out which direction would best benefit the eventual re-established hike on the rhumb line. Doug went East, my group of three went West. After a few minutes, we were indefinitely separated, but still in handy talkie radio contact. We soon discovered (via GPS and whistling) Doug was now West of us, and we were not anywhere particular. Tyler had been a trooper to this point. At 8 years old, most of the brush might just as well have been redwood trees to him. Much of the brush I could crush with my size 12 boots and 200 pounds would lift him from the ground. Having found an empty turtle shell, an old 5 point antler, and far too many thorns, Tyler finally had enough. I decided to guide my crew out and go back in to meet up with Doug if needed. It took over an hour to get out of the clutches of the forrest, and without the GPS or compass, it would have been very tough. We reached the truck, drank water, tested the radio links and made up plan B. (That would be whatever it would take that I would not have to do go through those last 100 yards of thorns again! :) Since we covered 0.4 miles on the rhumb line from the last fix, it did not make much sense to me to re-trace those tracks again, but rather I would have Doug get back on our rhumb line and I would come in from the other side of the country block on a 219 heading to best cover the entire line where we expected to find the payload. It would be over 0.6 miles, but maybe it would be more hospitable. I did not want anyone in there at oh dark 30.  So we jumped in the truck and  started to circle the block.  We found a few roads that looked promising.  But I wanted  landowner  permission to go into those areas.  We found one house to the north of the country block empty, and then arrived at a home on the western side of the block belonging to "Theresa". Theresa provided re-newed faith in my view of humanity. She was so helpful that I smiled from ear-to-ear, knowing she knew the right people to make this happen. She showed us the way to the northern neighbors' home we already visited (they were not there again) and she pointed to the pasture between Doug and I, and smiling, said to me,  "Those bulls won't bother you and your red jacket, head on in there..." OK, she really did not say that, but she told me that the cows would indeed leave me alone and the neighbors likely would not mind me hiking on in there. In the mean time, she would check with the neighbor to the east, and I prepared for a hike. While she was gone, the neighbors came home to the place my crew was parked. Frankie and Joyce pulled up in their big Ford diesel truck, and were about as nice as people can be. If the gate was not locked, he would offer me a horse and saddle and I could ride on in to meet up with Doug. I liked that idea, but no luck, the gate was locked. Frankie said there was another way in, via an old cemetery that was on the east side of the block. That might get us in there a bit, and that sounded good. About that time, Theresa came back and said the neighbor to the east was not home and agreed that the cemetery might be the right way to go. So.. We went. Rounding the corner of the block and heading down a ways, we found the over-grown lane to the cemetery  and headed on in.  In there, we found a small cemetery with wrought iron fencing and large headstones, but it was a fair distance from the rhumb line and Doug. Turning around, we found a way into the pasture and banking on the friendliness of the people I have met so far, started on in a bit. Almost immediately we saw the truck of the neighbor to the east, he was headed out to check on his cattle. His name was Clyde. Now Clyde was the quiet sort of person, the one that will size you up a bit before speaking a word, so I did my best to show my humbleness for being on his land, in his pasture and explaining that our balloon from the edge of space landed in his back pasture or woods. After a bit of conversation, Clyde told me to follow him, he has 150 acres back here and can drive me to the farthest point. Watching the GPS, I started to doubt we would get over to Doug's area. The distance started to increase as we kept heading north west, and then north. Finally, Clyde came around a bend and we headed back south west, and he was right, I probably would not have figured out I had to go so far northwest to go southwest. Clyde lived on this property since 7 years old in 1935, and he was quite familiar with the lay of the land. I watched the GPS and the distance was closing. 0.6 miles, 0.5 miles, 0.4 miles, 0.3 miles, 0.2 miles and we honked the horn. Doug heard us, and we kept closing. 0.1 miles then 437 feet! Now that is more like it! I would gladly hike 437 feet to meet up with Doug, especially knowing the 0.6 miles *I* wanted to cover could be mostly done in my truck! Out of the woods came a man in hunter orange, and a big smile across his face. I think Doug was also not looking forward to that hike back through the clutches of the forrest, and I imagine he was especially happy to know he could ride out. Clyde had driven on down the pasture a bit when he realized we were stopped. He turned around and met us where we met Doug. We all stepped out and were talking for a few minutes, when over Clyde's shoulder I spied a bit of orange. I looked hard, and it was no longer there. "Wishful thinking" I thought. Then again, there was a flash of orange, and this time it moved several feet. "It moved?" My brain, a little slow from the challenges of the labyrinth, put together the thought that I was actually seeing several pieces of orange, and the reason it was moving was due to the parting of the grasses in the field when the wind blew revealing one then another payload. My level of excitement jumped quite a few notches and off we went to see the site. Doug started walking towards the orange and then started to jog, shortly after, waving his arms above his head like the winner of the heavyweight round of boxing. K5RAU, Tyler, Clyde and W5BL happy about finding a mess in the field! Photo by K5NOT What a sight it was to see all the payload packages together with the radar reflector in the middle of an open field, not 50 yards away from where we came into this field! The tall grass, and our focus on the far side of the field where we hoped to see Doug, provided the shield and camouflage needed to prevent our detection of the payloads at first. Of course the first thing we did is check the survival of the payloads, followed by wondering what went wrong with the descent. It was obvious the payloads became tangled in the parachute, and it was obvious everything was wound tight! What was amazing was that it was all together, and the parts we thought might be weak links held fine until impact with the ground. The packaging was quite adequate, the dowel rods held strong, the strings did not fray or break, the styrafoam containers protected the contents well. So what happened to foul the parachute? This was one of several questions... What caused the nearly immediate loss of signals from everything but the APRS? It appears to be all related.

FOULED PARACHUTE

After examining the payload / parachute entanglement, incorrect distribution of the payload weight without consideration of aerodynamics is likely at fault. This was the configuration plan for ARBONET 2. However, at flight time, the RADAR reflector was moved to just above the Cross-Band repeater due to antenna de-tuning concerns. The voice beacon payload was nearest the balloon and parachute, and is also by far the heaviest with batteries and transmitter coming to nearly 4 pounds. The voice beacon was located there because it has a video camera to capture balloon burst. The APRS, RWK 10 meter beacon and the radar reflector with the cross-band repeater were all much lighter. The radar reflector also provided a much greater resistance to the relative wind on the way down. At balloon burst, the lower three payloads were likely quickly overrun by the voice beacon payload with the parachute in tow. This likely caused a collision and major entanglement of the lighter payloads with the parachute. No doubt, the voice beacon payload is now leading the way on towards earth. The voice beacon payload stuck the dowel into the ground several inches, but landed flat. Other payloads were hap-hazard around the voice beacon and fortunately, most components were protected by the styrofoam and metal plates. Weight distribution and aerodynamics on the downward side of the flight will be the new priority of placement of payloads in the chain.

VOICE BEACON MODE FAILURE

Problem: The GPS provided non-changing data to the CPU board before and after liftoff. The CPU board eventually went into a strange programming loop, providing CW ID but not the expected voice information. However, some parts of the program worked normally, including the false data detection loop that resulted in the voice beacon stating "Excuse me while I stop and ask for directions". Other items of interest: The transmitter was still broadcasting after 24 hours, however the antenna connection was broken during the fall to earth. Little damage was done after landing. Resolution: TBD