In 1986, Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager flew around the world non-stop in a weird composite aircraft designed by Bert Rutan. The twin-boom canard boasted one of the lowest drag coefficients of any powered aircraft, a 110-foot wingspan, and a dry weight of just over a metric ton. A concise description of the flight can be found athttps://www.nasm.edu/nasm/aero/aircraft/rutanvoy.htm.
Another useful reference is the February 1987 Life.
Amodel is a Ukrainian company whose products follow the familiar limited run formula - unusual subjects, indifferent molding, and challenging construction. Though the kit compares well to drawings in the September 1987 Modelar (Cz), I have strong doubts about the accuracy of the main fuselage. In most photos, the central crew pod looks like a squared off cigar; the kit pod looks more like a squashed Twinkie. The kit is molded in a soft white plastic that is easy to cut and sand - good thing, ‘cause there's lots of cutting and sanding to be done on this kit. Attachment points are thick, every part has ample flash, and edges are lumpy and uneven. The appropriately sparse surface detail is scribed; the lines are reasonably even and straight.
Getting the parts to look like parts, especially the propellers and those long wings, took a couple of evenings with files, X-acto knife, putty, and sanding sticks. Because I was modeling the aircraft in flight, I used hot water to curl up the outer wings, breaking one in the process and adding yet another seam filling task. At least I didn't have to deal with the hopelessly crude landing gear. A simple heat-and-smash provided a decent teardrop canopy to replace the crude kit item.
Once the long parts prep was complete, assembly proceeded with little difficulty. The cockpit is particularly easy - there isn't any. The plane's canopy is about the size of a breadbasket, and there are four small windows along the sides of the cramped crew pod, so interior detail would be a waste anyway. I found one interior shot that showed a dark interior (carbon fiber gray?); dark gray worked for me. I added a pilot's head to fill the canopy and block views of the bare interior. I anticipated, correctly, that the immense wingspan would make model handling a pain-in-the-behind once the outer wing panels were glued, so I did as much seam work as possible before that. Despite repeated attention in some areas, I never quite achieved the smooth seamless surface demanded by a gloss white finish.
After the fill and sand marathon, I masked off openings in the fuselage with Kristal-Kleer, and squirted on Model Master Boyd's white primer. This revealed flaws that required a couple more evenings of touchup, followed by another primer coat, and a rubdown with an old T-shirt. Three thin coats of Tamiya gloss white followed, and then the decals.
Decals of the former Soviet Bloc vary quite a bit these days - this kit's sheet featured coarse screening and indifferent color density. They misspelled "Teledyne," too. After reading accounts of exploding Eastern decals, I played it safe and covered the sheet with a coat of Glosscote. I used a straightedge and an X-Acto knife to trim some of the ragged edges of the blue flashes. This extra effort paid off - the decals all went on with no surprises and little silvering. Overall, I'd rate them "Barely OK".
A couple of coats of thin Glosscote finished the finish. Because the kit transparencies were so lumpy and dingy, I used Kristal-Kleer for the side windows, but the area is convex and the glazing dries concave; if I did it again, I'd scratch build some windows. A soaring-above-the-clouds stand was constructed using brass rod, a hunk of scrap wood, and some cotton balls.
Despite its questionable accuracy, crude details, and patience-of-Job assembly, this kit does produce a striking model. My biggest complaint is that Revell of Germany never tackled this subject in 1/32 scale.