Category Archives: Science / Space Race

Space, Computers, and other technology

[Jan. 23, 1960] Of Missiles and Monkeys (Little Joe 1-B and a Soviet ICBM)

It has been several weeks since either superpower has announced an orbital launch, but space news still manages to fill the front pages of my local newspaper:

One story that has been building for several days is the impending (and now historical) launch of a Soviet missile into the Pacific Ocean.  To the unitiated, such a feat seems hardly noteworthy—after all, the Pacific Ocean is quite literally the largest target on Earth. 

Take a closer look.  The Soviet ICBM actually struck within 1.24 miles of its target, which is a rather remarkable feat of guidance.  A nuclear bomb delivered within a mile radius of any point of Washington D.C. would surely do the job expected of it. 

Moreover, the uproar surrounding this flight has been riotous.  Ever since the Russians announced the mission, citizens of our fair democracy have been up in arms.  How dare the Communists violate the sacred neutrality of our oceans?

Well, the same way they violated the sacred neutrality of orbital space, and you'll notice that the President was just as easygoing about Sputnik as he was about this latest launch; clever fellow, that Ike.  After all, if the Soviets open that can of worms, how can they protest when we follow suit?

In less contentious news, the last of the Little Joe test flights has had a successful flight with the adorable Miss Sam, a rhesus monkey, at the (dummy) controls.  It's about time we saw equal representation in our "manned" space program!  For those who don't know, Little Joe is a midget rocket that lofts a Mercury capsule several miles into the sky for a test of the emergency abort system, which is another rocket bolted to the spacecraft's nose.  If the Mercury booster fails, the escape rocket will pull the capsule and pilot to safety—theoretically.  Anxiously witnessing the flight were two of the Mercury Seven astronauts: Shepard and Glenn (one of whom, it is rumored, may be the first American to ride the Mercury for real into space).

Happily, the thing seems to work!  Miss Sam flew to a height of nine miles and a maximum velocity of 2000 miles per hour before the escape rocket fired and jerked the Mercury away from the still blazing rocket.  This test was particularly important because it was done at "max q," the instant of maximum booster acceleration.  If the system works under those conditions, it should work all the time.

Miss Sam was recovered by helicopter almost immediately upon her splashdown into the Atlantic Ocean, 8 and a half minutes after launch.  Less than an hour after leaving the ground, the intrepid monkey-naut was safely back on Wallops Island where she'd started from. 

This flight marked the last time a boilerplate Mercury will be tested.  The remaining two Little Joe flights will feature real production models off the McDonnell assembly line.  Thus, humanity gets one step closer to the stars.

See you in a few!

Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Dec. 19, 1959] Like Water for Rockets (The testing of the XLR115)

In other news, the XLR-115 rocket was successfully tested on December 7, 1959.


State Archives of Florida, Florida Memory, http://floridamemory.com/items/show/31535

I see you scratch your head.  "Is that important?" you wonder.  "Aren't rockets tested all the time?"

Yes and yes.

You all have heard of Newton's Third law, "For Every Action, there is an Equal and Opposite Reaction."  This principle powers our rockets: through the controlled rapid combination of fuel and oxygen (also known as burning), exploding gasses are produced, which are given a hole at the base of the rocket through which they can escape.  This action propels the rocket in the opposite direction—up, hopefully.

The heavier the rocket, the more fuel it takes to send it into space.  Fuel is by far the largest component of any rocket through most of the rocket's flight (until it is all used), so it stands to reason that one would want the lightest, most efficient fuel possible.

Up to now, rockets have used familiar fuels, from petroleum derivatives to alcohol, because they are relatively cheap and easy to manipulate.  To break the weight barrier, one needs a truly light material, preferably the smallest stuff that could possibly oxidize.  Hydrogen happens to be the lightest element possible, Atomic Number One.  It burns: most of you know the chemical nomenclature for water is H2O, which simply means that any molecule of water comprises two atoms of hydrogen and one of oxygen.  Water is, essentially, burnt hydrogen. 

If one could bottle hydrogen safely in a rocket, then it would be the most efficient rocket fuel possible.

It's a tough project.  It won't do for the hydrogen to be kept in gas form, as in a World War I zeppelin.  That would result in an overlarge rocket and very elaborate mixing and ignition mechanisms.  No, you need to store the stuff in liquid form, and that takes a very cold and very good Thermos, indeed.  Just a few years ago, the idea of using liquid hydrogen as rocket fuel was as much science fiction as hyperspace and flying cars.

Until now.  The XLR-115 is a liquid hydrogen rocket.

Thus, the next generation of rocketry has begun.  At first, the XLR-115 will be used in the Centaur second stage, allowing boosters like the Atlas to send large payloads to high orbit, the moon, and the planets.  Ultimately, the liquid hydrogen rocket will likely be a vital component is the first manned lunar rocket. 

And that's why this news is important.  Now you know.

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P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Dec. 12, 1959] Beeping its last (The end of Vanguard 3)

Two days ago, there were three active satellites—two Vanguards and one Explorer.

Yesterday, there were two: Vanguard 3 has gasped its last beep.

For 84 days, the last of the Vanguards circled the Earth, returning data from its solar X-Ray detectors, its magnetometer, and its micrometeoroid sensors from an orbit higher than that of its dumber, smaller older brother, Vanguard 1.

Did you know that the Sun emits X-Rays?  That's what happens when you heat gasses to millions of degrees Kelvin; such temperatures are common in the solar corona, the bright fringe of gas surrounding the sun's disk that one can see during a solar eclipse.  The atmosphere absorbs most extraterrestrial X-Rays, so a satellite is needed to gather comprehensive data.  Sadly, all of the energetic particles trapped in the Earth's Van Allen Belts swamped Vanguard 3's detectors, and no useful data were obtained. 

On the other hand, Vanguard 3's magnetometer did a heck of a job, returning more than 4000 signals, nearly 3000 of which were of high quality.  We have never had such a comprehensive map of our planet's magnetic fields, and it is likely that scientists will be studying these results for years to come, learning how these fields interact with the solar wind to cause phenomena from radio storms to aurorae.

Speaking of radio, if you've ever listened to your shortwave, you might have heard "Whistlers"–those enigmatic sound that calls to mind a skyrocket flying overhead or birds chirping or even a flying saucer.  Such signals have been heard since radios were invented, and it is now known that they are emitted by lightning and propagated in the ionosphere.  Vanguard 3 was able to "tune in" to Whistler emissions with its magnetometer, which allowed scientists to make some estimates of the density of electrons in the ionosphere.  Two for one is a good deal!

No micrometeoroids pierced Vanguard 3's hull for the duration of its mission, but that doesn't mean the satellite didn't run into its share of space junk.  The first preliminary estimates from returned data suggest that 10,000 tons of space dust crash into the Earth's atmosphere every day.  That sounds like a lot, but considering that it is spread out over the entire surface area of the planet, it's a negligible concern to a small satellite.

With the silence of Vanguard 3, the Vanguard program has come to a virtual end (though Vanguard 1 still keeps beeping away).  Three successful launches out of eleven seems like a pretty lousy record.  Consider this legacy, however: the bonanza of returned data, the comparative inexpensiveness of the program, the first stage being turned into the Vega second stage booster for other rockets, the second and third stages being used on the Atlas Able and the Thor Able rockets, the Vanguard worldwide signal receiving station pioneering space communications.  Vanguard surely must count as a raging success.  Moreover, Vanguard set an important precedent by showing that rockets can be used for purely civilian purposes as well as for sending weapons of mass destruction across the globe.

If my epitaph is half as laudatory, I shall be a very happy corpse.

Up next—The Twilight Zone and then… Astounding!

Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Dec. 5, 1959] Sam and Joe (The successful launch of Little Joe 2-A)

I admit it.  I splurged last night.

I'm not the poorest of people, but I am thrifty.  Last night, however, I took a detour on the way home.  I ended up at my favorite cafe off Grand Avenue in downtown Escondido.  They sell pizza, which I've noticed is becoming as commonplace as burgers these days.  I ordered a slice pepperoni, a salad, and I washed it down with a beer.  Then I sauntered down to a local coffee shop and enjoyed a day-old brownie and a cuppa joe.  For dessert, I had a new 35 cent Ace Double (novel, that is). 

The night set me back 16 bits, but all of the week's stress washed away.  It beats a head shrinker, right?

Now, you might expect that this is a lead-in to a review of the Double, but I haven't finished it yet, so you'll just have to wait.  In the meantime, here's an exciting Double Dose of Space News.

Remember Little Joe?  It's that cluster of rockets with a Mercury capsule on top designed to test out the abort systems on the spaceship.  That little tower on top has rockets that will propel a Mercury and its pilot to safety if something goes wrong during booster launch.  The first flight was a total bust.

Since then, there have been two missions, the first of which was not entirely successful.  Little Joe 1-A, launched November 4, seemed to go off okay, but the escape rocket went off too late, and the pressure on the capsule was far too low to make a good test of the system. 

December 4 saw the next flight, Little Joe 2.  NASA decided to go for broke with this one and fully equip the capsule with a host of biological specimens.  One minute into the flight, the escape rocket blasted the Mercury and its contents, including seeds, bugs, cell samples, and a rhesus monkey named "Sam," at Mach 6 to an altitude of 53 miles.  Sam experienced a good three minutes of weightlessness during the flight.  All occupants were recovered several hours later, safe and sound.

The flight was a complete success, but it was not as strenuous a test as it might have been.  The next mission will feature an abort rescue at "max q," or the craft's strongest acceleration.  If the escape system works then, it will be probably be rated safe for actual use.  Exciting stuff!

Next up: 1959's Galactic Stars awards!

Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Nov. 28, 1959] Broken nose (Atlas Able and Discoverer 8)

It's enough to make a fellow cry.

There she stood, a proud and lovely Atlas Able booster, with the largest American lunar probe ever built at its tip.  Well, perhaps it wasn't so lovely.  The Atlas ICBM is impressive enough, with three mighty engines at its base and a hot temper that has resulted in an unimpressive operational record to date.  On top were the second and third stages of the Vanguard rocket, the same "Able" that has served the Air Force so well when mated to the Thor IRBM.  That's how NASA got its first Pioneers into space, if not to their desired target: The Moon.

The Able looked a bit like a silly Q-tip perched above the Atlas.  Nevertheless, it's the best combo we've got at the moment to compete with the Russians at their game.

Just 30 seconds after the launch, early morning on Thanksgiving (November 26), a piece fell off the nose.  Four-and-a-half minutes later, the second stage failed to ignite, and the rocket plunged into the ocean along with its precious cargo, the a 300 pound Pioneer posthumously dubbed "P3."

This setback may push the program back a full year.  There is a back-up payload but no rocket to launch it, the Atlas being in high demand for both the military and the Mercury program. 

What went wrong?  I gave my friend, John Vehrencamp, a call last night to commiserate and get the inside dope.  John designed the payload shroud, you see, which appears to be the likeliest culprit for the failure.  Sure enough, his long face was clearly expressed in the morose tones of his voice.  He took the full blame for the incident.  You see, he hadn't taken into sufficient consideration the drop of air pressure outside the nosecone as the rocket ascended.  The thing wasn't properly vented and exploded like a balloon in vacuum.  It's going to be a many-beers kind of weekend for John, I'm afraid.

I don't think this mishap will have any impact on the Thor-Able deep space mission planned for early next year, thankfully.

In related news, the Air Force had another bad Discoverer mission on November 20.  The eight in the series of "biomedical capsule recovery flights" (which ironically have not carried a biomedical payload in many missions) launched all right, though I understand the orbit was eccentric and not optimal.  The recovery capsule ejected, but no parachute was spotted.  Much like Thomas Edison, the flyboys are finding many ways to get the process wrong.  Their losing streak can't continue forever, right?

See you soon—December looks to be a great month (he said hopefully).

Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Nov. 10, 1959] Orlando Oranges and Space Slips

Greetings from sunny Orlando, Florida!

I know what you're thinking: why travel across the country to central Florida, which at first glance has little to offer to the tourist?

Firstly, my only first cousin on my father's side lives here with her family.  Secondly, Orlando is home to the Martin Marrietta manufacturing plant—and guess who has a free pass to see the Titan and Atlas rocket assembly lines?

Also, I wanted to see the place before it is destroyed in next month's atomic holocaust.  Or at least before Fidel's revolution travels to the mainland.  I imagine it will hit Florida before other states.

As you can see, Orlando has gotten its Christmas decorations up early.  Someday Christmas will precede Halloween, I predict.

I haven't had a chance to tour much, so I'll save the meat of my sightseeing report for next time.  In the meantime, here's a Space News round-up:

(Note that neither of these stories happened in Florida, which just figures since it is one of the rare times I'm actually in the state)

As you know from reading this column, there are two competing manned space programs in this country.  Sadly, one of them has suffered a setback: On its third mission, the rocket plane X-15 experienced an explosion in mid-flight.  Luckily, pilot Scott Crossfield managed to dump his fuel in a jiffy and get the plane on the ground in one piece.  He's fine, and the plane will fly again, but it won't go up until it's known precisely what happened.

The Air Force has also had a mishap: Discoverer 7, their capsule-return spacecraft designed for biological sample return (which hasn't carried an actual biological sample in several flights) got up into orbit just fine; but then it started to tumble, and the boys in blue couldn't get the capsule to separate from the rest of the craft.

While I may be cynical about the stated purpose of the Discoverer program, it does underline how technically complicated even an unmanned mission can be.  Getting the rockets to work is only one of many problems to be tackled before we can think of sending a person into space.

I will try to have an update in two days' time, but it may have to wait until I get back home.  I've a brand-new typewriter waiting for me there!


Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.
P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!



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[Oct. 20, 1959] The Twilight Zone and the Far Side (Television and Luna 3)

Twilight Zone, the new television science fiction/fantasy serial program, continues to be excellent.  As a result, Friday night's activities now revolve around ensuring that the family can tune in.

Here's a quick recap:

Episode 2, One for the Angels features aged sidewalk peddler Lou Bookman, beloved by the neighborhood children.  Unfortunately for all concerned, his hours are numbered; a certain Mr. Death has been dispatched to ensure that the salesman's departure occurs according to schedule.  Of course, the huckster has other plans, but cheating Death has its own set of consequences…

There were no surprises in this episode, at least not to me, but I did enjoy the characterization of Mr. Death a great deal.

Episode 3, Mr. Denton on Doomsday, follows the eponymous Al Denton, a former gunfighter turned alcoholic both for his protection and that of those who would challenge him (and lose).  An encounter with a new gun and a mysterious snake oil salesman named Dr. Fate sobers Denton up, but also appears to set him back on his old destructive path. 

I did not see the twist coming in this episode, and it's a good one.  And if you like oaters, you'll especially enjoy this outing.

My daughter summed up the last fortnight's viewing with this: "The great thing about this show is it takes all your deepest fears and sets them on their head."  I think I may have her start writing my columns from now on.

In other news, Luna 3 has finally returned a dozen vacation slides from its jaunt around the Moon.  At first glance, it looks as if the back side is quite a bit different from the front.  Significantly, there are far fewer of the gray splotches or "maria" (seas).  The Soviet news source, T.A.S.S., has been typically tight-lipped regarding the primary question on everyone's lips: is the far side where the Moon keeps all the cheese?

Seriously, I have not read anything in the press regarding data from Lunik's other scientific instruments.  These are the results I was really excited about.  It is rumored that previous releases were incorrect and that Luna 3's only experiment was the camera.  That's a shame, if true, though one cannot deny the moment of that lone experiment's success.

Next up: A Canticle for Leibowitz! See you soon.


Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!


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[Oct. 15, 1959] Space to Grow (Explorer 7 and some naysaying)

Here's a couple of interesting space news items:

Firstly, a new Explorer (#7) has soared into the sky.  This one was launched at the tip of a Juno II rocket, the kind that sent Pioneer 4 past the Moon and into solar orbit.  Whereas Explorer 6 was known as "The Windmill," the quite different Explorer 7 has been nicknamed "The Gyroscope."  Though the craft bears the same Explorer designation as its predecessor, it was actually made by NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratories, the (somehwhat) friendly rival of Space Technology Laboratories, darling of the U.S. Air Force.

Explorer 7 is a lovely, complex satellite, with a battery of scientific instrumentation.  Not only will it probe the radiation and micrometeoric environment of space, as prior spacecraft have done, it also wields a new experiment designed to measure the heat budget of the Earth.  Simply, it will help determine how much of the sun's energy is absorbed and reflected by our planet, measuring quantitatively the sun's effect on the Earth.  Pretty neat stuff!  I will definitely report on the science as it is published.

Secondly, Explorer 6 has finally gone silent, but even mute, it has proven useful.  On October 13, the Air Force shot a plane-launched Bold Orion anti-missile rocket at it to test our ability to intercept Soviet missiles in flight.  I can't get exact figures, but it got pretty close, apparently.  Probably close enough that, if the rocket had a little nuclear bomb on it, it could destroy an enemy missile.

Meanwhile, in the "why bother" department, a piece in the Miami News caught my attention.  The first, titled Space Science Called Foolish, has Brown University Professor Emeritus Dr. Charles A. Krause humbugging all over the space program.  "There's a lot of nonsense going on in the field of space science," the esteemed doctor opined. "I'm for forgetting this nonsense and keeping our earth science up to date."  He went on to say, "Space is a vacuum, void of matter or gas.  There is nothing to be gotten out of a vacuum.  We can get a lot out of the Earth."

Apparently, Dr. Krause is not aware that the Earth's upper atmosphere and magnetic field, integral parts of this planet, can only be surveyed from space.  Moreover, he is blissfully ignorant that there is plenty to be gotten from a vacuum, one far better than any that can be manufactured on Earth.  In any event, the Sun, the Moon, the planets, the asteroids, meteors, comets, micrometeoroids, charged particles, solar wind, etc. all exist in space.  It is hardly devoid of matter or gas.  Understanding how they move and interact perfects our knowledge of Earth-bound physics.

In short, Dr. Krause is a schmuck.  And so are the editors of the Miami News.

Oh, and here's another one: Rockets too Puny for Moon.  It's less inflammatory, but it is already out of date.  The seminal quote is, "U.S. guidance systems are on par with those of Russia.  The weight-carrying capacity of our moon rockets is not."  The unknown author's point is that, until we get beefier rockets, we can't send guidance good enough to get a probe on the moon. 

Given that the new Atlas Able will be launching before the end of the year, this defeatism seems misplaced.  I guess we'll see.


Footage from a new TV show, Destination Space


Note: I love comments (you can do so anonymously), and I always try to reply.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!


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[Oct. 6, 1959] Shooting the Moon's backside (The flight of Luna 3, first part)

The Soviets have done it again, reaching yet another milestone in space exploration before the Americans.

This time, the goal was the Moon's far side, which had never been seen before.  The reason for this is that the Moon is tidally locked in its orbit around the Earth such that it cannot rotate (much as an object floating in water will stay fixed with is heavy end pointing down).  As a result, humanity has only seen one side of the Moon for the entirety of human existence.  Isaac Asimov once joked, in the form of a medicore science fiction tale, that there is no back side to the Moon–that it's really just a false front movie prop.

But there is a far side.  We know this because the Soviets have sent its third "Lunik," formally named Luna 3, sailing around the Moon to take pictures of it.  The results promise to be a darn-sight better than what we managed with Explorer 6 and a much closer target.

It is not a surprise that this new and improved Luna is such a capable craft.  It weighs an impressive 278.5 kg, which is nearly twice as heavy as the American Atlas Able Pioneers, imminently scheduled for lunar launch.  Not only does the new Soviet probe have a real movie camera on board, but it also mounts a slew of scientific experiments designed to probe the magnetic fields and charged particles of cislunar space.  I'm really hoping that its measurements will shed light on why the Earth's magnetic field gets so wibbly and wobbly about 70,000 kilometers up; the leading current theory is that it is due to interactions with the sun's magnetic field.

Now, at this point, you're probably wondering why I haven't included Lunik's photos of the Moon.  Well, the answer is simple: they haven't arrived yet.  As I write, the probe is making its closest approach to the Moon.  It will then fly about 70,000 kilometers beyond the Moon before circling back for a close pass by the Earth, whereupon it will transmit its photographic cargo.  That will happen in just under two weeks.

Thus, my enthusiasm may be premature.  It is quite possible that Luna 3 may suffer a catastrophic error that prevents it from sending pictures home or even taking pictures in the first place.  Even if that happens, the Soviets will still have been the first to succeed at a tricky bit of orbital billiards. 

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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[Sep. 29, 1959] Watch the birdie! (First photo of the Earth from orbit)

For more than a month and a half, Explorer 6 has been a busy bee, happily conducting the most advanced science in orbit to date thanks to its highly eccentric orbit, taking it several thousand miles above the surface of the Earth, and its battery of sophisticated instruments.

What has this intrepid little fellow reaped in terms of scientific data?  A veritable bonanza.

Firstly, let’s look at the most accessible treasure—the first picture of the Earth taken from orbit.

On August 14, 1959, one week after launch, Explorer 6 turned its photographic eye to its mother planet.  It wasn’t a camera in the normal sense of the word; such a device would have been too heavy.  Rather, it was a simple eye that scanned the sky in strips as the satellite spun around (it rotates for stability).  Engineers on the ground then attempted to assemble the strips so that they might piece together into something recognizable as the Earth.  It was much like trying to restore a shredded document.  As Charles P. Sonnet, head of the scientific team commented, “You have to make the a priori judgment that the Earth is round.”

Apparently, one recent press conference attendee called the photo a “fake.” Chuck replied, “No, it’s not a fake… but it is pretty limited.”


Chuck Sonnet

So as a phototourist, Explorer 6 was a bit of a dud.  In other categories, however, Explorer 6 is an unqualified winner.  For two weeks, before the probe’s ion chamber broke down, Explorer 6 returned an unprecedented map of the Van Allen Belts of trapped radiation encircling the globe, and results are still coming in, though it is harder to determine the energy of encountered particles.  The on-board cosmic ray scintillator has determined that the “solar wind,” the waves of particles emanating from the sun, are not modulated by Earth’s magnetic fields but rather are controlled almost exclusively by the solar magnetic field.  Explorer 6’s magnetometer has returned a comprehensive map of Earth’s fields, which conform to theoretical predictions only out to a distance of five Earth radii—after that, they get unexpectedly variable.


Explorer 6's magetometer and the ones who built it: Paul Coleman and George Takahashi

The only field we still don’t have good data on is micrometeorites.  Virtually every launched space probe has had an experiment to measure the number and energy of little orbital particles to see if they might pose a significant threat to satellites and spaceships.  The data they have returned has not been robust enough to reach any real conclusions.  All we can determine thus far is that there are some particles up there, but they can’t be too hazardous since our satellites haven’t been damaged by them!

Explorer 6 continues to return data, not only augmenting humanity’s fund of scientific data, but also proving the efficacy of the first digital telemetry system—a necessity for any interplanetary space shot.  It is unknown how long the satellite will last, but there is no question that it has done yeoman’s work to date.  It is arguably the most successful orbital probe ever launched, and it is a harbinger of good tidings for the upcoming Pioneer Able launches to the moon and Pioneer Thor deep space probe.

P.S. Galactic Journey is now a proud member of a constellation of interesting columns.  While you're waiting for me to publish my next article, why not give one of them a read!

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