It was Allen Barklage who died in his Mini-500. Both Allen and his brother were very knowledgeable and well-respected within the aviation community. Allen was no slouch when it came to helicopters. It was he who had been hijacked while flying a 206 at gunpoint by a woman in the back seat who wanted break her man out of prison. Somehow, he managed to turn around, disarm the woman (while beating the crap out of her, I'm sure), leaving the poor 206 to fend for itself. He later remarked something along the lines of "...the JetRanger did stuff I never knew it could do." Probably a bit of an understatement, I'd wager.
But I digress.
Having survived a hijacking at gunpoint, Allen probably thought that flying a Mini-500 was a piece o'cake. He was taking off from an airport...an
airport! when his Rotax engine quit. Problem was, instead of taking off "the long way" (i.e. downwind), he chose to take off
into the wind but on a path that meant he had to cross some wires. When do engines quit? At the worst possible time, of course. And his did just that.
(Look, sometimes it's better to take off downwind if the area is huge and flat and unobstructed when the alternative is a max-performance departure over wires and such. Or back-taxi so you can cross the obstacle at a higher airspeed/altitude.)
Yes, Mini-500's had a two-stroke engine. Rotax was not exactly pleased that their snowmobile powerplant was being used in helicopters. But you know...their corporate desire to move product evidently outweighed their moral righteousness or indignation, and anyway you can never specify how a product that you've already sold will be used. If somebody wants to take a perfectly good Stanley hammer and bash it against your skull rather than pound nails into wood, there's not much that the Stanley Corporation. can do about it other than put a warning sticker on the hammer that says, "CAUTION: Please do not bash this product against a person's skull or it may cause injury or death."
Mini-500 designer Dennis Fetters (now there's a name that brings back memories!) had even devised a power-enhancement kit to wring even
more power out of the Rotax. Not a good thing, because as others have noted, lubrication is dependant upon throttle opening. Usually...in most applications...when the throttle is closed the crankshaft rpm decreases. Not so with a helicopter. Can you say, "Yikes!" I knew you could.
But there were other problems with the Mini-500. Like the airframe...which cracked repeatedly from all that vibration from the high-speed two-stroke engine. Like the gearboxes...which make those of the R-22 look like something from the Sikorsky or some other Russian design team. Like the main rotor blades...that more resembled bananas than anything belonging on a rotorcraft. Like that goofy "Hughes 500D-like" horizontal stab on top of the vertical fin...which may work well on a helicopter with an articulated rotor system but didn't work so well on a two-blade underslung system. Like the pitiful quality-control problems DF had... Oh dear, the list goes on!
Having said all that, we must remember that the Mini-500 was a HOMEBUILT, EXPERIMENTAL aircraft. To measure it against or compare it to *any* certified helicopter is simply folly. It was a machine to go out in on nice, sunny days and practice autorotations...which it did rather well (out of necessity?) from published reports at the time. But I wonder what Stan's or Igor's or Frankie P's first machines looked like? Sure, sure, we've learned from their <ahem> collective mistakes since then, but experimental helicopters are always going to cause "us" (the knowledgeable) to shudder and go, "Man, I'd *NEVER* fly that!" And in truth, they are scary. The ones I saw used hardware in the (hot) engine compartment that were
fiber-lock nuts! Personally, I would use something else if it were mine - locking devices that would not melt, in other words.
And if I did own one that I built (you know, if I suddenly started dropping LSD or mainlining some other hallucinogenic) I would fly it! I'd go out and hover and play, and go up and shoot precision autos (aiming for the ground, hitting same). I would probably *not* use it to go to the south of France for the weekend. And if I crashed and killed myself, I'm sure the preacher's first words at my funeral would be, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to pay tribute to an amazing...an amazing...an amazing
dumbass. A dumbass who's dumbassiness is unparalleled in modern society. A dumbass who was so dumb that he put his ass in an HOMEBUILT, EXPERIMENTAL helicopter, of all things. Dear God!" And the congregation (both of them) will nod sorrowfly in agreement.
Hey, life is full of risks. Amen!