Construction: The Bathroom Floor

I did what I had to do.

On May 20, 2014, I began blogging about the construction of my new home in Malaga, WA. You can read all of these posts — and see the time-lapse and walkthrough movies that go with many them — by clicking the new home construction tag.

One of the things holding up the progress on my home was the fact that I hadn’t finished the bathroom floor yet. I couldn’t have the plumbers in to install the tub and other bathroom fixtures until the floor was done.

And it wasn’t going to do itself.

The Difficult Flooring Decision

Throughout my home, I’m using Pergo Max wood laminate flooring. This is a “floating floor” with snap together planks. Although it’s highly rated, durable, and attractive, it isn’t suitable for areas where large, heavy items will be placed. That’s why I had to prep for my kitchen appliance installation by putting vinyl adhesive flooring on 1/4 inch plywood under where my refrigerator, dishwasher, and range would go.

I used the same vinyl plank flooring in my laundry room. It was a test — I figured that if I liked it there, I’d use it in my bathroom. Although it went down easily enough, it certainly wasn’t the kind of quality flooring I wanted in my real living space. (My laundry room is a glorified closet.) So vinyl was not the answer.

And yes, I do realize that there are different levels of quality for vinyl flooring. I still wasn’t interested.

That meant tile.

I like tile. I really do. I had it in the kitchen and entry areas of my old house and, if it were up to me, I would have had it throughout the entire downstairs. (I wanted so badly to tear that dirty old carpet out of the living room and redo the whole room with tile. Not my problem anymore, thankfully.) Tile makes sense in a dry place like Arizona, especially on a ground floor with a concrete subfloor.

But I don’t like installing tile. It’s a lot of work.

I had some experience working with tile years ago in my Arizona house, back when I cared enough about it to want to make it different and special. It had a built-in shelf area in the den — built-ins were huge in Arizona in the 1990s — and I tiled two or three of the shelves. That’s when I learned what a pain grouting was. I lost interest in projects like that once I got a good taste of how tough they could be.

I figured that in my bathroom, I’d compromise. I’d put tile under the bathtub and do the rest of the room with Pergo. That would minimize the amount of tile work needed to be done. I could knock it off in two days.

With that in mind, I bought two sheets of 1/4 inch Durock cement board for underlayment and two boxes of 12-inch ceramic tile that I thought would work well with the oak colored Pergo.

Prepping the Floor, Changing My Mind

Cutting Durock
The first piece with cutouts for my tub’s faucet and drain.

I got to work on Friday, March 6. I had to cut the Durock sheets to fit into place on the floor. To minimize the trips up and down the stairs, I brought my saw horses and tools up and set them up in my future bedroom. Then I went at the first board with my circular saw and a 4-inch hole drill. I carried it into the bathroom and lowered it into position. A perfect fit!

Placed Durock
Measure twice, cut once. It really does work.

I screwed it into place using a bunch of cement board screws and got to work with the next piece. Within minutes, the far end of the bathroom floor was covered with Durock.

Floor Contrast
Side by side, the two floor colors didn’t look bad at all.

I decided to give myself a preview of what the finished floor might look like. I laid down two tiles and placed some spare pieces of that vinyl plank beside it. The plank was nearly the same color as my Pergo, which I hadn’t picked up yet. The tile was gray with streaks of brown in it and the two materials, side by side, really did bring out the brown streaks. But I started having doubts about the way the floor would look with two different materials. And I realized that I’d have to put tile under the toilet and probably under the vanity, which was open on the bottom. That was half the floor.

Oh, screw it, I thought to myself. I’ll just do the whole damn floor in tile.

That, of course, meant another trip to Home Depot for four more boxes of tile and two more sheets of Durock. While I was there, I also bought the mosaic tile I’d need for the inside of my shower stall.

Finished Subfloor?
I thought I was finished with the subfloor preparation on Saturday.

I spent Saturday morning cutting and laying out the sheets of Durock. It wasn’t difficult — there were few fixtures to cut around. When I was finished, I shared photos of my handiwork on Twitter and Facebook, as I often do.

The advice came quickly, as it often does. More screws, someone said. Did you place that over thin-set? someone asked. You need to tape and mud it.

This was not what I wanted to hear. I thought the floor was pretty secure.

A friend of mine stopped by on Sunday to help me install the fire doors at the bottom of my stairs. (Building codes require me to have 20-minute rated fire doors between my living space and garage.) He’d built his house and he’d tiled his bathroom. I asked him what he thought. It’s fine, he said.

Sunday afternoon, I fired up my web browser and went searching for tile how-to videos. I wanted a refresher before I got to work. I found this excellent series of how-to videos on the Home Depot website and watched all the videos for the type of installation I was doing. That, in turn, included to a link for another video about preparing the subfloor. I watched that video and realized that my Facebook friends were right: I needed thin-set under that Durock and more screws. Although I’d tape the seams, I drew the line at mudding them. After all, I’d be placing more thin-set on top when I laid the tile.

I used some premixed thin-set that I’d bought for the tile to get started that evening. The stuff was expensive and I went through it at an alarming rate, despite what the package said coverage should be. Clearly I needed to buy the less expensive powder and mix it myself.

So Monday morning, bright and early, I was at Stan’s Merry Mart buying a 50-pound bag of thin-set mortar mix. I spent the entire morning pulling up those sheets of Durock, smoothing thin-set under each sheet, and screwing them back down. I carefully covered the remaining thin-set with plastic and headed out to an appointment. I’d start laying tile when I got home that evening.

Buying Thin-set (Again and Again), Laying Tile

When I got home, I was very pleased to see how solid the floor now seemed. I was convinced that I’d done the right thing in taking this extra step. (Thank you, Facebook friends, for your advice.) Although it was after 6 PM, I thought I’d get a good start on the tiling.

Of course, the thin-set wasn’t thin anymore. It was basically garbage.

I reopened the plastic container of premixed thin-set I’d started the day before. I laid three rows of tile before the container was empty. (I wound up buying a 25-pound bag of the mix on Tuesday morning before getting back to work.)

First Three Rows
I was extremely fortunate with the size of the room and tile. Believe it or not, the room was exactly 6 tiles across. That really minimized the amount of tile cutting I needed to do.

I was actually very well prepared for all my tile work. When I’d packed up my belongings in Arizona, I eventually got into the garage where I’d stored all my painting and tile work tools in plastic bins. I went through it all and packed up the items I thought I might need in my new home — including all of my tile working tools. I even packed my manual tile cutter. The only extra equipment I needed to buy was a good rubber grout float and a set of tile nippers. I even had a tile saw with diamond blade that I’d been using for my glass work for the past year. So I was pretty much set for the job.

Tuesday’s work went quickly, laying tile after tile, pausing only long enough to make a tile cut with the cutter or saw. I would have finished the entire floor except for one problem: I ran out of thin-set. Again. With just six tiles left to lay. I’d have to pick up another bag that evening when I went out with friends and finish in the morning.

Laid Tiles
All tiles laid.

And that’s what I did. Rather than mix the entire bag of thin-set, I mixed up a batch just large enough to lay the last handful of tiles.

The Race to the Finish

In the meantime, I’d been trying to get the plumber to give me a date on when they’d come to hook up the water and do whatever else they could do. I’d promised them that the tile work in the bathroom would be done the previous Friday — yeah, the same day I started. The plumber, Dave, had told me it would be at least two weeks and I knew it was vital to get on his calendar. So we’d been playing telephone tag all week and he showed up to take a look at the job on Wednesday evening.

List
I use the 2Do app to keep a synchronized list on my iOS devices and Macs. Every time I think of something I need, I just add it to a list.

He listed all the things they could do and what I’d need on hand. I had some of it — the tub, tub faucet, vanity, bathroom countertop/sink. But I needed more: water heater, toilet, shower head, bathroom faucet, kitchen sink, kitchen faucet. I already had these things on my list.

“Yeah,” he said as he prepared to leave. “We’ll be by tomorrow. But it won’t be until after about 11 because we need to install a cast iron tub.”

I tried to hide my shock. Tomorrow morning? It was already after 5 PM. Items on my list had been shifted to the top and I still needed to grout the tile. But if I balked, I’d lose this date and I definitely didn’t want to get on the bottom of his list.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you then.”

I was then faced with the problem of getting two pallets of Pergo, which I’d picked up on Saturday, out of the back of my truck so I had room to pick up a water heater, toilet, and other bulky items. I compromised. I offloaded just one pallet, leaving enough room for what I had to bring home, and headed out. By 9 PM, I was backing into the garage with the truck bed full again.

Although I wanted to wake up at 4 on Thursday morning and I had to wake up by 5, I actually woke up by 3. That’s how it is when I have lots of things on my mind. As I age, I seem to need less and less sleep. That’s a good thing because it seems to take longer to get things done.

I was on my hands and kneepads on the bathroom floor by 4:30 AM with a grout float, a plastic container filled with light brown grout, a paint bucket filled with clean water, and a sponge. This was the part that I hated. Grouting.


This video makes it look easy. While it’s not exactly difficult, it certainly isn’t any fun.

It’s not spreading the grout that’s a problem. That’s kind of relaxing, in a way. The trouble is, the grout gets all over the tops of the tiles, too, and it has to be removed before it dries. So you’re basically spreading grout on 4 to 8 tiles, then sponging them off. This video was extremely helpful because it gave me the key to doing it right: make the sponge as dry as you possibly can and keep rinsing it.

Grouting
By 6:10 AM, I was pretty close to being finished with the grout work. I still don’t have electricity finished in the bathroom, so I had to rely on my shop lamp for light.

I did nearly half the floor in the first hour or so. Then I took a break to get fresh water. I got right back to work. It was vital that the grout be set by the time the plumbers came because they’d be walking all over it. It would need at least three hours. I wanted to be done by 6 AM. I was actually done by 7 AM.

Finished Tile
Here’s a closeup of the finished tile. Was it worth all that work? Grudgingly, I’d have to say that it was.

And it looked great.

I’d chosen the brown grout for two reasons:

  • Dark grout doesn’t show dirt like white grout does. That was my only complaint about the tile in my old house — that freaking white grout. Who does that? It was impossible to keep clean. I remember cleaning the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, scrubbing grout for hours on end. I was never going to do that again.
  • I thought the brown grout would bring out the brown colors in the tile — and it does. It would also look good with the mosaic tile I’d bought for the shower stall.

The plumbers showed up on schedule, right around 11 AM. By that time, the grout was set and safe to walk on. They got a lot done in a short period of time. But that’s a subject for another blog post.

Stirring Emotions with Misleading Headlines and Photos

I’m sick of people sharing misleading information on social media.

The other day, one of my Facebook friends posted a link to an online petition on a site called Sum of Us. I won’t share the link, but here’s the top of the page:

Petition
This petition’s page is over the top when it comes to using misleading information to stir emotions.

When I saw the image at the top of the page, my immediate reaction was, “The Havasupai are building a mall?”

You see, the photo shows Havasu Falls, which is just down Havasu Creek from Supai, a tiny village on the Havasupai reservation inside the Grand Canyon. Supai is so remote that you can only get there three ways: on foot, by horse/mule, or by helicopter. There are no roads leading down to Supai. Because of this, it gets relatively few visitors — perhaps a 100 a day during peak summer tourism months. It’s widely known for it beautiful blue waters, waterfalls, and travertine rock formations. I’ve been down there three times and feel very privileged.

The idea of Supai having a “super mall” is absurd, so I clicked through to see what it was all about.

Apparently, I’m the only one seeing this post on Facebook who doubted the veracity of the headline/photo combination. Most of the people who saw it shared comments voicing their outrage that such a beautiful place should be ruined and assured the rest of us that they’d signed the petition.

Of course, the real story didn’t have anything to do with the Havasupai land in the Grand Canyon — which, by the way, is outside park boundaries. It was about the Navajo land on the east side of the Grand Canyon and a proposal to build a tourist attraction near the confluence of the Little Colorado River and Colorado River. These two sites are a full 50 miles apart as the crow flies.

Locations
The beautiful waterfall in the photo is 50 miles away from the actual confluence of the two rivers. On this map, green represents actual park land.

The leading paragraph spread more misleading information; they added the emphasis, not me:

Property developers want to build a super-mall smack dab in the middle of one of America’s most breath-taking world heritage sites, the Grand Canyon. The mall would include an IMAX, shops, hotels and fast food cafes. The National Park Service has called the plans ‘a travesty’.

I don’t know about you, but “smack, dab in the middle” should be somewhere near the middle of something — not on the far east end of it. As the map above shows, this development won’t be anywhere near the middle of the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon is mind-bogglingly huge: 1.2 million acres or 1,904 square miles — that’s bigger than the entire state of Rhode Island. A development at the Confluence won’t be visible from the South Rim, which hosts at least 90% of the park’s visitors — many of whom spend less than an hour looking at the canyon — or the North Rim.

Grand Canyon Map
Here’s the big picture. Grand Canyon National Park is pink; Native American reservations are purple. You can download the whole map as a PDF. Note that there is a dispute over the exact location of the border between park and Navajo lands that would affect the ability of developers to move forward.

The truth about this story is that developers want to build a tourist attraction on the rim of the Grand Canyon inside the Navajo reservation. It would include shops, hotels, and a tram to the bottom of the canyon so people could actually access a part of the canyon that’s currently limited to hearty hikers, river runners, and mule riders — a tiny fraction of the park’s visitors. This isn’t too different from what the Hualapai have done on the west end with their Grand Canyon Skywalk or what the Navajo have done in Monument Valley with The View Hotel.

And maybe I should remind people that National Park Service concessionaires already manage six hotels (El Tovar Hotel, Bright Angel Lodge, Maswick Lodge, Yavapai Lodge, Katchina Lodge, and Grand Canyon Lodge) and well over a dozen gift shops on the rim of the Grand Canyon, inside the park. And a hotel at the bottom of the Grand Canyon (Phantom Ranch).

So what this petition page has done is used a photo of a beautiful waterfall that was shot 50 miles away, coupled it with a headline referring to a super mall, and led with an untrue statement regarding development in the middle of the Grand Canyon. Someone who doesn’t know the facts and relies on the information on this page might think there’s going to be a giant mall ruining the vistas at one of the world’s natural wonders.

So people sign. They provide their names and email addresses. Those addresses are likely harvested for use in other slactivism efforts. They’re likely followed up with pleas for donations to support the cause.

And people share the link to the misleading information, getting their friends to sign up, too.

And people talk about the “problem,” using the misleading information they read — if they bothered to get past the photo and first paragraph.

And this pisses me off to no end.

Now please don’t think that I’m in favor of more development at the Grand Canyon. I’m not. But I am in favor of Native American people being able to develop their land in ways that economically benefit them. I’m very familiar with the Navajo people, having spent quite a bit of time on and over the reservation. There are social problems including poverty, obesity (and related health issues), and alcohol abuse. Young people are leaving the reservation for better opportunities elsewhere. The native language — which was instrumental in our World War II communication efforts — and culture are being lost. If the Navajo people vote in favor of a project like this on their own land, I don’t see any reason why we should stop them. It would give them jobs, bring more tourists and tourism dollars to their part of the canyon, and help their economy.

Again, the Hualapai did this at Grand Canyon West and no one seemed to care. Why care about this now?

Oh, yeah. “Smack dab in the middle.”

My advice to people reading petitions like this: get informed before you let the authors manipulate your emotions to get the response they want. Don’t share misleading information.

We all know how difficult it is to find the truth on the Internet — and the problem is getting worse every day. Don’t be part of the problem. Don’t share information unless you know it’s accurate.

Pilot Motivations

What drives pilots at various career levels.

I’ve been flying helicopters since 2000, when I got my private pilot certificate. I learned to fly as a hobby but soon realized that if I wanted to fly, I needed an aircraft. Back in those days, I was earning a good living as a freelance writer and had authored two “bestsellers” in my field. I bought a helicopter and flew it in my spare time. I also worked toward my commercial pilot certificate, which I received in 2001, so I could fly for hire. After all, I wasn’t rich and who knew when the money from my writing career would dry up? Over time, I grew my business, bought a larger helicopter, and found a few lucrative niche markets for my services. Since the money from my writing career has pretty much dried up, I’m glad to have a solid standing in my flying career.

That’s the very short version of how I got to where I am today: an owner/operator with just one helicopter and a handful of regular clients, doing the occasional rides gig, tour, and photo/survey flight as need arises.

As I head home from two days of callout on a frost control contract in California’s Central Valley, I’ve been thinking a lot about what motivates pilots on each level of the aviation ladder: new pilots, experienced commercial pilots, and owner/operators. I’ve spent time in each group — although admittedly in unusual circumstances. I though I’d share a few thoughts from my experience — as well as what I’ve gleaned from talking to other pilots.

New Pilots

New pilots are mostly interested in doing one thing: building time.

Until they get enough experience as pilots, they’re not able to get a “real” flying job. Instead, they’re usually forced to take jobs as flight instructors, which most of them don’t really want to do. That’s the most common way for new pilots to build the 1,000 hours or more of pilot-in-command (PIC) time that’s usually required to get a non-training job.

This is an unfortunate time for any new pilot who doesn’t have the “right stuff” to be hired by a flight school. What is that right stuff? Flying skills, good attitude, patience, and a body weight under 180 pounds come to mind. Luck is part of it, too. Despite what flight schools tell their students, they can’t hire all graduates of their training program to be flight instructors. Sometimes new pilots need to be lucky enough to get their certified flight instructor (CFI) certificate just when one or more instructors are moving on to their first flying jobs.

For those new pilots who can’t secure a flight instructor job, things can be tough. They can’t get a job and move forward in their careers until they build time and they can’t build time without getting a job. Catch 22. These are the guys who will take any opportunity to fly, no matter what kind of flying it is, even if they have to pay for that flight time. I’ve had at least ten new pilots fly with me on long cross-country flights in my R44, paying an hourly rate much lower than what it would cost them to rent a helicopter, just to build time. There used to be a guy in Southern California who sold time in his JetRanger while he conducted traffic flights. (Is he still doing that?) And then there a few questionable operators who “hire” low time pilots to fly for them, requiring these “employees” to pay at least part of the helicopter’s operating cost when they fly.

Cherry Drying
No, I’m not interested in having a 300-hour pilot who can’t/won’t get a job as a CFI hovering at treetop level over cherry trees in my helicopter — even if he doesn’t want to be paid.

And don’t get me started on operators who use low-time pilots for potentially dangerous flying jobs, with that flight time as their only compensation. Every year I get at least one pilot calling or emailing me, offering to do cherry drying flights for free. My point of view on this: a professional should be compensated with money for his work, no matter what he does, and responsible operators should be hiring — and paying — sufficiently experienced pilots for the type of flying that needs to be done.

Time building is everything for new pilots — as it should be. Experience is vitally important for safety. And no matter how good a 300-hour pilot thinks he can fly, he’s nowhere near as good or safe as most 1,000-hour pilots.

Experienced Commercial Pilots

Once a pilot has gotten past the time-building stage and is able to qualify for a flying job, his main concern is — or should be — finding the right job. That should meet one (or all) of three criteria:

  • Be the kind of flying the pilot wants to do.
  • Give the pilot the flying experience he needs to get a future job doing the kind of flying he wants to do.
  • Pay a living wage — or better.

In other words, an experienced pilot’s main motivation is the advancement of his career down the path he prefers.

For example, someone interested in EMT work will need turbine flying experience, as well as night flying experience. He may have gotten night experience as a CFI doing all those night cross country flights with student pilots on board, but he likely didn’t get turbine time. A tour job at the Grand Canyon or in Alaska might be a good start. Those jobs are a good start for other kinds of helicopter work, including utility work, since some operators also have utility operations and might have a career path with training right into those jobs.

The $80K Helicopter Pilot Job

I want to point out here that those $80K/year helicopter pilot jobs do exist. They just don’t exist right out of flight school. If your flight school lured you in with promises of a big paycheck doing a cool job, they did you a disservice. Different types of flying pay different rates, but they all require a lot of experience to reach the higher pay levels. If your primary motivation is making a lot of money, you’re probably in the wrong career.

The more experience a pilot has, the more opportunities he has. And I’m not just talking about flight time, either. While logged PIC time is important, having a lot of time doesn’t automatically make a pilot qualified for a specific job. For example, I’ve got about 3200 hours of flight time logged, but I could never expect to walk right into an EMT job since I have limited turbine time and very little night flying time. But I could qualify for a job as a heli-skiing pilot because of my extensive experience in high density altitudes and off-airport landings. At this point in a pilot’s career, PIC time and experience, although related, are not of equal value.

So once a pilot has paid his dues and can start getting the jobs he wants, he’s mostly motivated to do the kind of flying he wants to do or that will help him further his career goals and earn a decent living.

Owner/Operator

And that brings us to where I am today and why I didn’t mind spending 40 hours traveling to and from and waiting around in California this week without turning a blade.

Owner/Operators are motivated primarily by one thing: making enough money to keep their helicopters, stay in business, and make a profit — often in that order.

In 2006, when I started seeing a decline in my writing income after riding a wave since 1998, I began to realize that if I didn’t keep my business in the black, I’d have to give up my hobby-turned-part-time-business. As the situation got worse, it changed the way I operated my aircraft. The ratio of non-revenue to revenue flight hours dramatically decreased as I flew more for hire and less for fun. While I still wanted to fly as much as I could — after all, I got into this business because I love to fly — money became my primary motivator.

Think about it: why would I let other pilots fly my aircraft if I love to fly? Because I was getting compensated for that flight time. That compensation would go toward paying my aircraft expenses.

Parked in California
Here’s my company’s most valuable asset on Wednesday, parked in California, waiting to be flown. A smart owner/operator will find ways to earn money without turning a blade.

As my Alaska Air flight descends into Seattle, I think about the chain of events that led me to seat 9A today: getting a frost control contract in December with a start date in March, repositioning the helicopter to California in late February (with another pilot at the controls), spending a few days on standby for an early contract start date before returning home. Then a phone call at 3:22 PM on Tuesday followed by a scramble to book and catch a flight to Sacramento, two nights on standby, another call to release me from standby, and a trip to Sacramento airport to catch this flight. Along the way, there were rental car reservations, hotel stays, and meals. I preflighted the helicopter once and woke up long before dawn both days.

And I didn’t turn a blade.

But I’m happy. No, I’m thrilled. Why? Because without putting any wear and tear on my company’s most valuable asset — my helicopter — I netted more money in less than 40 hours than I did during the period of from October through January. More than most new pilots make in a month.

Some people might think this is a great deal — after all, I’m making money without doing anything except traveling and waiting around. But these people are missing the big picture. I paid $346K plus interest to buy my helicopter. It costs more than $20K a year to insure it and keep it airworthy. Shouldn’t that enormous investment not only pay for itself but earn a profit? Every opportunity it can?

And, sadly, that’s what’s most important these days for me: keeping my bottom line healthy enough to keep flying for a living. That’s what’s on the minds of most owner/operators who aren’t independently wealthy.

Respect that — and don’t expect handouts.

Think About It

So here are three different ways three different pilots might look at what’s important to them about flying.

Why bring this up? Mostly so that pilots on each rung of the career ladder can better understand what’s motivating the other pilots.

I think about the new pilots and how eager they are to build time at almost any cost. I think about the more experienced pilots who are willing to be picky about the jobs they take just so they get set on a career path that’s right for them. And I think about owner/operators who have a helicopter at their disposal all the time but must responsibly choose how to deploy that asset for maximum returns.

I want the folks just starting to climb that ladder to understand the rest of us — and realize how their priorities will change if they slip into our positions some day.

On Spur-of-the-Moment Travel

It’s amazing where you can be in just a few hours.

I’m on my third consecutive year as a frost control pilot. I haven’t written much about this, mostly because I haven’t actually had to fly a mission. But for the third year in a row I’m being paid to have my helicopter ready, with relatively short notice, to fly slowly over almond trees on cold California mornings.

The Back Story

My first year’s contract, back in the winter/spring of 2013, had a relatively low standby pay for 60 days, along with compensation to move the helicopter from its base — in Arizona, in those days — to California’s Central Valley. Because I wasn’t sure about my living situation that winter — after all, my future ex-husband could get his head out of his ass and accept the very generous settlement offer I made and I’d have to move — I moved my truck and RV to California as well, thus guaranteeing a cheap and comfortable place to live near my work. (After all, that’s why I bought the RV; as a place to live when I was on the road with the helicopter.) I spent about two months traveling with Penny the Tiny Dog between Phoenix, Sacramento, and Las Vegas, getting called out just once for two days. I happened to be in Vegas at the time, so it wasn’t a big deal to change my plane ticket and spend a few days in California instead of returning to Arizona.

Last year I took a very different contract. It paid a generous standby rate for six weeks but I had to live near the fields. This turned out to be very convenient for me since I was out of my Arizona home for good and didn’t have a home in Washington yet. I brought the RV and helicopter down in mid-February and stayed until the middle of April. I really got to know the area, made new friends, went hiking and kayaking several times, got comped on a balloon ride, and even learned to fly a gyroplane. It was like being on a paid vacation in a pleasant place, with warm days and lots to do and see. If I did have to work, it would likely be between 3 AM and 7 AM, so days were free to do as I pleased.

Although the money was great, the drawback to that contract was the simple fact that I couldn’t get back to Washington until April. I wanted to be back earlier. I wanted to experience the spring: seeing orchards in bloom and leafing out, hiking along streams full of snow-melt runoff, starting a garden. So when December 2014 rolled along, I decided to try to get a frost control contract like the first year.

And I did.

I brought the helicopter down to California on February 22. The RV would stay home — with me — as I finished work on my home and enjoyed the spring.

That’s the back story.

Call Out

Frost control is not like cherry drying. In cherry drying, I’m required to be ready to fly at a moment’s notice. I can monitor the weather closely and vary my daily routine based on the likelihood of rain. When my clients call, they expect me to be airborne in minutes.

In my frost contract, the client monitors the weather closely and, if there’s a possibility of frost, he initiates a callout. My contract requires him to do this by at least 12 hours before he expects me to fly. This gives me the time I need to get to California from Washington. I’m paid for the callout — the fee covers my transportation with a bit to spare. And then I’m paid a generous hourly pilot standby fee from the moment I get to my California base until I’m released the next morning. If I fly, I’m paid a flying rate for that. The next time I’m called out, the process starts all over again

When I brought the helicopter down to California this year, I built in a few extra days to spend some time with friends in the area. When those plans fell through, I kept myself busy by reacquainting myself with the area and visiting other friends. But I couldn’t have timed it better. I was put on standby two of the three nights I was already down here. I was able to earn the callout and standby fees without incurring the related travel expenses. Although it did require a minor flight change for my return home with a $25 fee, that’s still pretty sweet. Really made it worth the trip.

I went home last Wednesday and got back to work on my home. The cabinets were installed on Thursday and Friday and the appliances were delivered on Saturday. Timing was everything and I lucked out.

My client called on Friday to make sure he understood how much lead time I needed to get back to California. Cold temperatures were forecast for Sunday through Wednesday nights. He wasn’t calling me out — yet. But he wanted to make sure he knew how much time would be needed to get me in position. I told him that if he called me by 3 PM, I’d be able to make it to the helicopter by 10 PM and be on standby overnight.

Of course, I watched the temperatures, too. Unfortunately, the forecasts of my various weather sources aren’t nearly as accurate as those available to almond growers, by subscription, from an agricultural weather resource. I had to rely on them to call me and didn’t want to fly down unless I had to.

So each day the forecasted low was 40°F or lower, I’d be a nervous wreck, wondering whether I’d get a call. Once 4 PM rolled along, I’d relax. I did this on Sunday and Monday and got a lot of work done at my place. But I did pack an overnight bag on Monday afternoon, just in case.

On Very Short Notice…

On Tuesday, at 3:22 PM, my phone rang. It was my client. He’d been sitting on the fence about calling me down. Forecasted lows were 32° to 39° in the area. He told me that he knew from experience that if the forecast said 32°, it could go lower. Better safe than sorry. He was calling me out.

Fortunately, I was sitting at my desk answering an email message when he called. When I hung up, I got on the Alaska Air website. There was a flight out of Wenatchee at 5:20 PM — less than two hours from then — and I needed to be on it. I booked the flight from Wenatchee to Seattle to Sacramento. I’d arrive at 9:28 PM.

While I was at the computer, I searched for car rentals in Sacramento. Thrifty had one for $22/day. Rather than book online, I called directly. With my bluetooth earpiece in my ear, I made car reservations as I changed my clothes and put a few more things into that suitcase.

I decided to board Penny. She’d been with me on the last trip and I thought I’d keep things a lot simpler by leaving her behind this time. So I packed an overnight bag for her with enough food for 2 days — just in case I needed to stay over an extra night. Club Pet is on my way to the airport, so dropping her off only took 5 minutes, especially since the paperwork was already waiting for me. As I type this, she’s likely playing out in the yard with the other dogs.

I checked into my flight and chose my seats using the Alaska Air app on my phone while stopped at a traffic light. I only had one bag — a carry-on — so I didn’t need to stop at the counter.

Seattle Sunset
I got off the plane in Seattle just after sunset.

I was at the airport, through security, and sitting in the waiting area by 4:45. That’s less than 90 minutes after getting the call. At 6:07 PM, I stepped off the plane from Wenatchee onto the tarmac at SeaTac. This is one of the best things about living in a small town with airline service: it’s so damn quick and easy to catch a flight out of town when you need to.

I grabbed dinner at SeaTac’s Terminal C before catching my flight to Sacramento.

It was an amazing flight. The moon had risen and was almost full. The land beneath us was illuminated with moonlight. I sat at the window on the A side of the plane and watched as we passed Mt. Rainier and Mt. Hood. Our flight path took us down the Cascade range in Oregon, over the Three Sisters and other mountains there. I could clearly identify the towns I knew on Route 97 from the location of their airport beacons in relation to the town’s lights. The moon’s bright orb reflected back up at me from streams, marshes, and lakes. The flight couldn’t have been any smoother, either.

We touched down in Sacramento fifteen minutes early. I was out of the terminal waiting for the rental car shuttle bus by 9:30 PM. Later, I’d settle down in a Best Western for the night. I slept like a log until 5 AM.

Although a call to fly never came, I don’t mind making the trip. I will be well compensated for my time and the inconvenience of dropping everything to spend a few days in California. My client is satisfied, glad he can count on me to come when called. It’s all good.

I’ll kill some time here today and catch a flight home either tonight or tomorrow morning. I’m flexible and it’s a beautiful day.

Construction: March 3 Walkthrough

Show and tell + lazy blogging = another quick video of my new home progress.

On May 20, 2014, I began blogging about the construction of my new home in Malaga, WA. You can read all of these posts — and see the time-lapse and walkthrough movies that go with many them — by clicking the new home construction tag.

A lot has been done since my last video. I blogged about some of it but have fallen behind on other important parts. Life’s been keeping me busy these days and those of you who know me well know I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In any case, I did another walkthrough video. This one is a bit long and I go into some detail about the work that’s been done and still needs to be done. So grab a cup of coffee or a snack, settle down in your comfy chair, and take an 8-minute walk with me through my new home under construction as it was this morning, March 3, 2015.

More to come — of course.