Two tables were most active in the shop this past weekend; one had a helicopter going together and the other had an airplane—a project for each kid. For me, a tiny corner was free for a "someday" project.

     Practice helicopter blades are relatively inexpensive, at approximately $12 a set. The last swap meet rendered us a bounty of blade slap expertise samples, all for the helicopter neophyte price of free. Better than the $12 deal?

     One particular wooden set included a 325mm blade and one 335mm blade. My "someday" project was that these would be trimmed and matched. Even beginner-grade blades are precision weighted and balanced to an exacting degree (they match in length even).

     Of notable interest to me was the fact that shortening both a 325mm blade and a 335mm blade to a 280mm length removes approximately "way too much" ballast material. The $12 deal might have been better.

     The correct weight location was easy to find; it's right next to the metallic stuff sticking out of the band saw-chomped end of the free helicopter accessory (soon to be resurrected as a helicopter blade). A channel was milled out of the light blade in the appropriate location, and sledge sculpted lead strips were inlaid so that each $6 portion of the free gift came into sync on the blade balancer.

     Overnight, epoxy secured the ballast position, and its cured state was prepared for careful blending into the precisely molded factory airfoil shape—which is available for roughly $12 at the local hobby shop.

     With a fanatical eye and selection of various sanding tools, fashionable tips in the blade ends were sculpted. Hours went by as transverse curve scrutiny was used to hone the critical lifting devices. A final check on the blade balancer proved that the careful application of paint on one blade over the other would yield a set of closely matched swap-meet masterpieces.

     Layers of primer coated the bare wood areas and epoxy filler. A can of Wal-Mart-brand primer hiding in the cabinet for years seemed to be the perfect selection for sealing such silicon and carbide wielding. The can of paint must have cost me $1 10 years ago; and it isn't made anymore. Darn it, it's good stuff!

     After 24 hours of baking over the electric heater that kept our provisional garage workshop toasty warm, the would-be $12 blades were wet-sanded in the guest bathroom, taking special care that gray paint water didn't get on the embroidered guest towels. When all evidence of the tooling was finally removed, a sealer coat of primer was added after 30 minutes of drying time over the heater.

     Blades can be tricky to paint; there's no place to hold it while spraying and the entire surface must be coated. Using dowel scraps and paint stirring sticks from the hardware store (free if you ask nicely), handles were fashioned that could be screwed through the blade-grip hole, which would later be hidden by plastic covers—available with almost every $12 blade set on the market.

     We settled on Rust-Oleum Chrome for the finish, which would complement the tiny balls hidden under the black plastic links on the mechanics most tastefully. The paint was left over from a Cub Scout award project—again, a major cost savings (high praise from the wife is certain).

     Careful paint application was completed under the best of conditions—out on the porch, 9:30 at night with blowing snow. It was found that when blades are painted at the same angle of attack as the driving precipitation, there's little chance of the fresh frostbitten paint to be contaminated. In between paint coats, I found a sale on wood helicopter blades at one of my favorite Web sites.

     The blades gleamed as the solvents were baked from the rustproof paint—an important consideration when painting wood. After 48 hours, enough time had passed that the masterpieces of sweat, grit, and Maxwell House were ready for the final check on the balancer, the verdict which warranted the need for just a tiny strip of tracking tape—which also covered up a snowflake-sized blemish.

     The blades are now mounted to my son's well-earned 400-class electric helicopter (another swap-meet special). He's proud that his machine looks good, and his building supervisor (daddy) is glad to have played a part.

What does this story mean? Builders build because they want to. Whether it's an airplane, helicopter, or X-Prize contender, RTF or scratch-build, stabilizer or wheel pant, have fun and enjoy the opportunities that this great hobby brings. MA