They've done it. By God, they've done it!
On the 47th anniversary of the first Sputnik launch, a private entity has achieved repeatable sub-orbital flight. A group of extraordinary human beings has taken a comparatively modest budget and turned it into the promise of space for all of us.
Without the nearly unlimited resources of a nation-state, a relative handful of brilliant people have led the way to the first steps to the stars. Burt Rutan's Scaled Composites, operating from a small hangar at the Mojave, California airport (oops, excuse me, now the Mojave Spaceport), has done what most believed impossible. Then again, he's done that before. He also built the Voyager, an aircraft that his brother Dick Rutan and co-pilot Jeanna Yeager flew around the world un-refueled in 1986. As amazing as that was, this is better. Much better.
With funding from Microsoft co-founder Paul Allen and Virgin Atlantic founder Sir Richard Branson, the Scaled Composites team has created two extraordinary vehicles: SpaceShipOne, the first proven-viable privately-owned re-usable spacecraft, and the White Knight, a twin-boom twin-turbojet carrier aircraft that lifts SpaceShipOne (SS-1) from the ground to 50,000 feet, where the fun really begins. When the flight engineer in White Knight releases SS-1, it drops away, ignites its (very new and unusual) rubber and nitrous oxide rocket engine, and heads for outer space.
So What's This Good For?
Um, good question. The short-term, really short-sighted answer? The back-to-back trips to sub-orbital space in just five days won them the Ansari X Prize, a $10 million plum often likened to the Orteig Prize, won by Charles Lindbergh for his solo trans-Atlantic flight in 1927. The X Prize was conceived in 1997 by Dr. Peter H. Diamandis, founder and Chairman of the X Prize Foundation, to spur development of space tourism. Twenty six different companies from seven different countries have entered the competition, which requires the development of a craft that can fly out past the Karman Line at 62 miles (about 100KM) twice in a two-week period with a pilot and cargo representing two additional people. If you think for a second or two about what that represents, you'll be astounded at what they've accomplished. What fuel do you use (most rocket fuels used by national programs use highly toxic, nasty stuff like fuming red nitric acid and hydrazine), how do you handle the transonic shock waves during the boost phase and re-entry, how do you protect the fragile electronics (and even more fragile humans) that make the trip possible, and how do you carry enough fuel in a package that will make the trip? To quote Paul Allen, "This is real first-class, top-line rocket science...." Amen, Paul.
What's the mid-term answer? For that, we turn to British travel magnate Sir Richard Branson, who has agreed to create a company he will call Virgin Galactic, which is scheduled to begin tourist flights to outer space in 2007, using craft based on the designs that captured the X Prize. Imagine that: space tourists, for a great deal less than the $20 million spent by the first ones, Dennis Tito and Mark Shuttleworth, in 2001 and 2002 (Branson's best guess at the price for a ticket: $200,000). Stone the crows, he might just make money at this, which means he probably won't be the only one doing it for very long -- the prize may be won, but the other 24 teams haven't stopped developing their craft. One such team, the Canada-based da Vinci group, has received clearance from the Canadian government for testing and sub-orbital flight. The fun continues.
The long-term answer? The X Prize Foundation isn't done yet. They have announced a second prize: a $25 million prize for the development of a craft that can carry seven people to orbit, and can dock with a space habitat intended for tourists. The mind boggles. And don't forget: Branson reminds us that soon, every nation will have the opportunity to do research in space, "as opposed to just a lucky few." Well, that's one way of looking at it. There certainly will be a great many more satellites to dodge, as most of these commercial space ventures will be eager to pay their bills by making commercial launches during pauses between rich people eager to spend the cost of a decent house for an hour-long adrenalin rush.
Um, good question. The short-term, really short-sighted answer? The back-to-back trips to sub-orbital space in just five days won them the Ansari X Prize, a $10 million plum often likened to the Orteig Prize, won by Charles Lindbergh for his solo trans-Atlantic flight in 1927. The X Prize was conceived in 1997 by Dr. Peter H. Diamandis, founder and Chairman of the X Prize Foundation, to spur development of space tourism. Twenty six different companies from seven different countries have entered the competition, which requires the development of a craft that can fly out past the Karman Line at 62 miles (about 100KM) twice in a two-week period with a pilot and cargo representing two additional people. If you think for a second or two about what that represents, you'll be astounded at what they've accomplished. What fuel do you use (most rocket fuels used by national programs use highly toxic, nasty stuff like fuming red nitric acid and hydrazine), how do you handle the transonic shock waves during the boost phase and re-entry, how do you protect the fragile electronics (and even more fragile humans) that make the trip possible, and how do you carry enough fuel in a package that will make the trip? To quote Paul Allen, "This is real first-class, top-line rocket science...." Amen, Paul.
What's the mid-term answer? For that, we turn to British travel magnate Sir Richard Branson, who has agreed to create a company he will call Virgin Galactic, which is scheduled to begin tourist flights to outer space in 2007, using craft based on the designs that captured the X Prize. Imagine that: space tourists, for a great deal less than the $20 million spent by the first ones, Dennis Tito and Mark Shuttleworth, in 2001 and 2002 (Branson's best guess at the price for a ticket: $200,000). Stone the crows, he might just make money at this, which means he probably won't be the only one doing it for very long -- the prize may be won, but the other 24 teams haven't stopped developing their craft. One such team, the Canada-based da Vinci group, has received clearance from the Canadian government for testing and sub-orbital flight. The fun continues.
The long-term answer? The X Prize Foundation isn't done yet. They have announced a second prize: a $25 million prize for the development of a craft that can carry seven people to orbit, and can dock with a space habitat intended for tourists. The mind boggles. And don't forget: Branson reminds us that soon, every nation will have the opportunity to do research in space, "as opposed to just a lucky few." Well, that's one way of looking at it. There certainly will be a great many more satellites to dodge, as most of these commercial space ventures will be eager to pay their bills by making commercial launches during pauses between rich people eager to spend the cost of a decent house for an hour-long adrenalin rush.
Jealous, Aren't You?
Damned straight. Short of winning the California Lottery, I'll never go to space. I'm sure if I drained all my bank accounts, I could have something wonderful to talk about for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, that life would be exceedingly short, as I suspect my wife would cheerfully strangle me--not as much for throwing away the money, so much as risking my life that way. She needs me around, you see, and would kill me if I died in a crash. Duke is, after all, a family man, with roles and responsibilities. There are days I wish it were different, but the choices were mine, and I find I am generally quite pleased with how things have turned out.
To quote Popeye the Sailor, "I yam what I yam." Close friends have no doubt heard (ad nauseum) all about how, when I turned 13, I wept openly because I grew past the maximum height allowed for astronauts in those bygone days. When I was 12, I got to wear Gus Grissom's back-up spacesuit during a classroom demo, and I'm sure the demonstrators had no idea a young boy would be so difficult to pull out of a pressure suit. Yes, I'm a space nut.
So I'm sure you'll forgive me when I point out how disappointed I am in the U.S. space program. Mind you, I'm sure NASA is doing the best they can with what they've been given to work with, but there is a definite lack of vision in the halls of Congress (if 'pro' is the opposite of 'con,' then what is Congress the opposite of?). Time after time, the short-sighted and foolish Congresscritters have cut the funding of what could have been Mankind's last, best chance to leave this sorry ball of dirt and spread ourselves among the stars, never to be exterminated by the chance impact of a meteor with our one sorry planet. I loathe, detest, and despise those whose only interest in public office is to stay there, pandering to people's basest instincts in a self-centered attempt to gain and exert power. You can always tell when a politician is lying--their lips are moving. The only thing that counts is action, because action always speaks louder than words. Question for those of you still wondering to whom you will give your vote in the November elections: which of the candidates has steadfastly pushed for additional funding for NASA, and which has cravenly attempted to steal money from them for "social programs" designed to keep him in office? Work that out, and vote your conscience.
That's why I'm so thrilled (Thrilled? I'm euphoric!) over the success of Scaled Composites and their wonderful little SpaceShipOne (did you know it would fit in a two-car garage? I may have to move the motorcycles...). I salute Anousheh and Amir Ansari (title sponsors of the Ansari X Prize contest), SpaceDev (makers of the amazing hybrid rocket motor), Mojave Aerospace Ventures, Rutan, the first commercial astronauts, Mike Melvill and Brian Binnie (lucky stiffs!), and all the thousands of other team members that made this dream possible.
And last (but certainly not least), our thanks should flow to Messrs. Branson and Allen (suddenly, I don't feel quite so bad about all the money I've spent on Microsoft products over the years). To put the costs in perspective, the $10 million prize was jokingly said to cover only about 40% of Allen's costs on the project, which would put his "investment" at about $25 million. Compare that to what he spent to buy part of the Seattle Mariners baseball team, and you'll begin to see that there's no way he'll ever recoup his investment on either, unless he sells his interest in the ball club. The other? To be part of this particular piece of history might be worth whatever was paid. Now, where did I leave that lottery ticket?
Damned straight. Short of winning the California Lottery, I'll never go to space. I'm sure if I drained all my bank accounts, I could have something wonderful to talk about for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, that life would be exceedingly short, as I suspect my wife would cheerfully strangle me--not as much for throwing away the money, so much as risking my life that way. She needs me around, you see, and would kill me if I died in a crash. Duke is, after all, a family man, with roles and responsibilities. There are days I wish it were different, but the choices were mine, and I find I am generally quite pleased with how things have turned out.
To quote Popeye the Sailor, "I yam what I yam." Close friends have no doubt heard (ad nauseum) all about how, when I turned 13, I wept openly because I grew past the maximum height allowed for astronauts in those bygone days. When I was 12, I got to wear Gus Grissom's back-up spacesuit during a classroom demo, and I'm sure the demonstrators had no idea a young boy would be so difficult to pull out of a pressure suit. Yes, I'm a space nut.
So I'm sure you'll forgive me when I point out how disappointed I am in the U.S. space program. Mind you, I'm sure NASA is doing the best they can with what they've been given to work with, but there is a definite lack of vision in the halls of Congress (if 'pro' is the opposite of 'con,' then what is Congress the opposite of?). Time after time, the short-sighted and foolish Congresscritters have cut the funding of what could have been Mankind's last, best chance to leave this sorry ball of dirt and spread ourselves among the stars, never to be exterminated by the chance impact of a meteor with our one sorry planet. I loathe, detest, and despise those whose only interest in public office is to stay there, pandering to people's basest instincts in a self-centered attempt to gain and exert power. You can always tell when a politician is lying--their lips are moving. The only thing that counts is action, because action always speaks louder than words. Question for those of you still wondering to whom you will give your vote in the November elections: which of the candidates has steadfastly pushed for additional funding for NASA, and which has cravenly attempted to steal money from them for "social programs" designed to keep him in office? Work that out, and vote your conscience.
That's why I'm so thrilled (Thrilled? I'm euphoric!) over the success of Scaled Composites and their wonderful little SpaceShipOne (did you know it would fit in a two-car garage? I may have to move the motorcycles...). I salute Anousheh and Amir Ansari (title sponsors of the Ansari X Prize contest), SpaceDev (makers of the amazing hybrid rocket motor), Mojave Aerospace Ventures, Rutan, the first commercial astronauts, Mike Melvill and Brian Binnie (lucky stiffs!), and all the thousands of other team members that made this dream possible.
And last (but certainly not least), our thanks should flow to Messrs. Branson and Allen (suddenly, I don't feel quite so bad about all the money I've spent on Microsoft products over the years). To put the costs in perspective, the $10 million prize was jokingly said to cover only about 40% of Allen's costs on the project, which would put his "investment" at about $25 million. Compare that to what he spent to buy part of the Seattle Mariners baseball team, and you'll begin to see that there's no way he'll ever recoup his investment on either, unless he sells his interest in the ball club. The other? To be part of this particular piece of history might be worth whatever was paid. Now, where did I leave that lottery ticket?