RCCheckList keeps one record per model: ten setup rows, the preflight list you actually run, and every flight it has closed. That record is what works the checklist at the field, what writes the ad when you sell it, and what you hand an adjuster if the garage floods.
The board is new and it fills one hangar at a time, which is why this page asks you to put an aircraft in rather than go shopping.
The list is not a form and it is not optional. Ready To Fly stays locked until the last item is ticked, and the flight timer will not start any other way.
You never pick a template. An electric helicopter gets pack selection and resting voltage against the threshold for that pack. A gas plane gets ignition off while priming, and asks how many ounces went in the tank rather than what the pack read. You set the type and the power once when you add the aircraft, and that is the last decision you make about any of it.
Resting voltage goes in on the line that asks for it. Flight time comes off the timer, not off your memory in the truck. What was left in the pack goes in when you walk back to the table. Nothing on this screen was entered to sell anything, which is the entire reason it is worth reading later.
Retracts add a gear cycle. Dual ignition adds a second pack to check. A bambi bucket adds the line about the line being clear of the skids. Two warbirds differ from each other on those more than a warbird differs from an aerobat, which is why the list is built from what is bolted to your airframe rather than from what you call it.
Nobody typed 203. That is how many checklists that airframe has closed since March 2024, and every ad prints the date right beside the count.
Ten spec rows, the photographs and the flight count are already sitting there. A price and a paragraph you can edit, and that is the entire form.
Every registered pilot in range gets it on the lock screen with the app closed, which is the one thing a browser tab cannot do. Plenty of models never make it past that.
You get a square card: the photograph, the price, the city, the flight count, and the cockpit code in the corner. Post the image on its own with no link, so the group's feed does not bury it. Anyone who points a camera at the printed code lands on the full spec sheet.
It sits behind the listing and only a registered pilot gets through to it. Nobody harvests it out of a screenshot, and there is no anonymous is this still available at eleven at night.
When it sells, it goes with the airframe. Put the buyer's email in and the aircraft, its setup sheet, the cockpit code and every logged flight move across, so the label taped in the canopy keeps working for the next owner. Your own flight count drops by that many, which is the honest way round. No email for him? Mark it sold anyway and the code answers this aircraft was sold to whoever scans it, instead of leaving a dead link in somebody's canopy.
An adjuster does not want a helicopter. He wants a description, a registration number, a weight, a photograph and a replacement cost, per item, dated. Every airframe here carries all of them, because you needed most of them anyway to fly it.
What it would take to build and set it up again today, not what you paid in 2019. It is a number you type, not an appraisal, and the console never pretends otherwise. It sits in the setup sheet beside the weight and the registration, which is the only place you would ever remember to update it.
Four airframes come to $13,400, recomputed every time the page is drawn, so it cannot quietly go stale the way a spreadsheet does. An airframe with no figure yet is named on the face of the panel rather than dropped out of the sum, handing you a number wrong by the price of a helicopter.
Most homeowners policies cap hobby equipment low and settle at actual cash value rather than replacement cost, unless you carry a rider or a schedule. Ask yours which it is. A typed figure, a photograph and a date are what you need to have that conversation, and most pilots walk into it with none of the three.
If the adjuster wants dates, the flight log exports to CSV, and every flight in it came from a checklist you closed on your phone. Replacement cost is for the policy. What your model actually fetches is a different number, and they are rarely close, so that one goes in the price field and nowhere near this panel.
That sentence belongs on every classifieds page and it is almost never on one. Here is exactly which half is which, so you can weigh an ad yourself instead of trusting a badge somebody bought.
A working email and a working mobile, because that is the channel contact gets released on. The flight count, because it is a count of closed checklists rather than a field anybody types. The date the aircraft record was made. And whether the setup sheet is finished: an airframe with rows still blank cannot be listed at all. The console refuses, prints how many of the ten are filled, and tells the owner to go finish the sheet.
His name, his AMA number, his home field and his description. He typed those, the same as he would on any other board, and the ad labels them as his rather than dressing them up as verified. An evening on the couch could also manufacture a dozen checklists on a model nobody flew. What it cannot manufacture is two seasons of them sitting under a record made in March 2024, which is why the date is printed next to the count and not hidden behind it.
A seller's phone number and email are not on the page. They are not blurred and they are not sitting in the code behind the page. They are released to registered pilots, one listing at a time. Distance is rounded on anything public, and the exact figure only appears once you and the seller are actually talking, because a decimal, a city and a dollar figure together are a shopping list. Registering is free, takes about a minute, and reading an ad does not require it.
The cockpit code is the one identifier that is genuinely per airframe, which is why that is the thing taped in the canopy. Your AMA number and your registration live on you, and get stamped on every aircraft you own, the same way you write them inside every fuselage.
Thumbing a motor part number into a phone in a gravel parking lot is nobody's idea of a good time. The setup sheet lives on a computer, on a real keyboard, with autocomplete pulled off your other aircraft.
Name, maker, type, power, and the ten setup rows. Autocomplete offers what you already put on your other aircraft, so the second Castle Edge HV 120 is two keystrokes. Put the same cockpit code on two models and it tells you which one already has it.
Electric helicopter, sixteen items. You never pick a template, because the type and the power already decided. It is a starting point and not a rule: add the line about the tail belt your airframe needs, cut the one you would learn to skip, drag them into your order, and write the note that shows underneath it on the phone.
Two cockpit codes per aircraft, 2.000 inches square, twelve to a letter page, with a calibration bar so you can check your printer is not scaling. Error correction is set to H rather than the usual L, because a cockpit label lives in fuel residue, vibration and sun for years. Cut on the dashed line, tape one inside the canopy, keep the spare in the flight box.
The codes in the pictures on this page are pictures of codes. Do not point a camera at a screenshot, here or anywhere else. Scan the one you printed and taped in the canopy, and treat every code you meet in a feed the same way.
Put in the one you fly most. Ten rows at a keyboard, the checklist is already there, and you can print the label the same evening. If it is not worth the ninety seconds the next time you fly, you will know by Saturday.