Ready.. Set.. Zoom!

Next Wednesday, December 17th, marks the 105th anniversary of the inaugural flight of the world's first successful heavier-than-air aircraft. It's kinda/sorta important to me because if there were no aircraft, there would have been no airlines. Without airlines, I would probably have gotten married at age 22 [long, LONG story].

I now celebrate that anniversary a little sadly, but -- more importantly -- also researching the really stupid moments in the history of man's early attempts to fly. The latter is much more interesting to you folks, of course, so I'll share one of those favorite tidbits.

The header I selected, Ready.. Set.. Zoom!, is the title of a Road Runner cartoon. Which is a highly appropriate subject line since I'm pretty sure the guy I'm going to tell you about is a direct inspiration for Wile E Coyote.

Rockets had existed in China for centuries, and are known to have been used to defend the city of Kai-Feng Fu from attackers as early as 1232 AD. But deep thinker Wan Hoo [sometimes translated as Wan Hu], a 15th century Chinese prince who lived -- and died -- during the Ming dynasty, was sitting around one day, and, perhaps spurred on by too many Mai Tais or seeking refuge from his nagging wives, came up with a better mousetrap.

About 150 years before Isaac Newton got plunked by an apple, Hoo somehow opened his Acme Supply catalog [Hong Kong division], gazed longingly up at the moon, and meticulously calculated that exactly 47 skyrockets were needed for him to reach escape velocity and deposit him in the same zip code as the Arthur C Clarke monolith from the movie 2001.

So Hoo got to work, built a sturdy wooden framework around his favorite comfortable chair, poured himself a cool one and confidently attached those 47 skyrockets to the back of the seat. Atop it he fastened two large kites, presumably to ease his reentry to earth's atmosphere. He then strapped himself to the chair, raised his hand, hollered out a bold "One of these days, Aliki! Wham! Bam! To the moon!" and 47 underpaid servants with blazing torches ignited the skyrockets. A moment later there was a mighty blast, followed by an impressive cloud of black smoke.

Predictably, Wan Hoo vanished, leaving nothing behind but a legend. Rather than a lifetime supply of the San Francisco treat, Wan Hoo must now be content with having a crater named for him on the moon, in honor of being the first Chinese taikonaut. [just FYI, the crater is located at 9.8S latitude, 138.8W longitude, and has a diameter of 52.0 km].

We can only hope that the legends are true, and this was, in fact, his final resting place and he wasn't simply Road Runner-ed to smithereens.

There's this ancient drawing currently in the possession of the United States Civil Air Patrol. [why? no clue]:

The upraised hand gesture has many meanings. But I prefer that rather than simply waving goodby, Wan Hoo had a brief moment of sanity and was madly waving "whoa!" and that the47 underpaid servants were too busy laughing to comply.

Hoo's feat has echoed through pop culture. But I always think of Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon though he clearly wasn't a willing disciple of the Wan Hoo Tao.

As a counterexample, just so you don't think all aviation daredevils are stupid, Burt Rutan, one of my personal heroes, won the Antari X-Prize back in 2004. The X Prize was a $10 million cash purse awarded to the first team that successfully launched three people to an altitude of 62.5 miles, returns them safely to Earth and then repeats that feat with the same vehicle within two weeks. 24 teams from 7 nations fought for the big bucks using a wide variety of techniques. But all these "think outside the box" research teams were clearly kindred spirits to Wan Hoo, if only because they achieved their high ambitions by bravely strapping high explosives to their butts.

As for me, I'm seeking safer roots to immortal fame.