Boating without Mike

And with him.

I took my boat out yesterday.

My BoatIt isn’t much of a boat: 1995 Sea Ray F-16 Searayder. It has a jet ski engine. Nice in shallow water (until you suck up weeds or sand). Holds up to 5 people or up to 750 pounds. (Hell, my helicopter can carry more weight.) I bought it at the end of last year and made the mistake of leaving it up in Washington. I should have left my RV, the mobile mansion, which costs a fortune to tow 1,200 miles at 6-8 miles per gallon. We didn’t use the mobile mansion in Arizona (although we almost did), but I know we would have used that boat a lot.

Just another one of my mistakes.

This Season’s Boat Outings

This was my fourth outing this season — and the first in more than two months. The first outing, in early June after I had it repaired (read about that) was just to learn how to put it in the water, start it, drive it, and get it back out of the water. If you’ve never managed a boat by yourself, you might not appreciate how tricky this could be. I came up with a system that works for me.

The second outing was a trip from Crescent Bar up to Spanish Castle — or where Spanish Castle used to be — and a long drift back down the river. That trip was great because the water was as smooth as glass and I could get the boat up to its top speed of about 35 miles per hour.

Boating

The third outing, later in the month, was with my friend Jim and covered pretty much the same territory. It was great to get out on the water with a friend.

Boating with Jim

Yesterday’s Outing

I didn’t take the boat out for two months after that. There are a few reasons, the biggest being that I had to finish a book I was working on. I couldn’t play with that work hanging over me. Unfortunately, the book took two months to finish — which isn’t like me at all — mostly because of the distraction of my upcoming divorce. I simply couldn’t concentrate.

Oddly, I’d really looked forward to taking the boat out with Mike. In May, he’d talked about coming up with our dog, Charlie, and spending the summer with me. I was looking forward to going out in the boat with the two of them on nice days when we were both finished with work. I even thought about camping on West Bar, across from Crescent Bar; I had all our good camping gear with me and it would have made an easy overnight trip.

But by the end of June, it was pretty clear that that would never happen.

Even though my work on the book had been done for about a week, I’d been putting off taking the boat out. I honestly didn’t feel like going out alone. But I loaded it up today, hooked it up to the truck, and dragged it to the hydropark where there’s a boat ramp just upriver from Rock Island Dam. I’d never launched there, but I’d scouted it out on a walk with Penny the day before. It was a nice ramp with a floating dock that had lots of cleats. Cleats are important for securing a boat when you’re launching it by yourself.

Penny on the BoatI backed the boat in and launched it without much trouble, then pulled it around to the other side of the dock so I’d be out of the way in case anyone else wanted to launch or come back in. I secured it with two ropes, then parked the truck and trailer, put a leash on Penny, and came back out to the boat. I put Penny in and stepped in after her. Then I put on her life jacket, fastened the leash to it, and fastened the leash to one of the boat’s handholds. This was the first time I’d taken Penny on the boat — I got her at the end of June as a sort of birthday gift to myself — and I was glad to see that she didn’t have a problem with the silly life jacket I’d bought her.

The boat didn’t start right away, which really didn’t surprise me much. But then it came to life. I let it idle with the choke on for a short time, then cast off the front rope. I got back into my seat, cast off the other rope, pushed the choke back in, and pushed the throttle forward. We eased out into the Columbia River.

It wasn’t long before I picked up speed. I cruised at about 28 miles per hour (according to a GPS app on my phone) straight up the river. I’d learned that one way to save gas and have a nice quiet ride was to motor upriver, cut the engine, and drift back. I took it all the way up to the Rocky Reach Dam — or as close as I felt comfortable going. The water had some weird currents on the downriver side of the dam and I didn’t like the look of them.

With the engine off, it got nice and quiet. I turned on the stereo, which I’d had installed back in June. It had a weird little drawer for holding an iPhone or iPod. You’d plug in your device and the stereo would charge it and play music. You could still use a Bluetooth earpiece for the phone if a call came in. I bought the stereo so I could listen to music and not have to worry about my battery dying in my phone when I was out during a cherry contract.

Penny's Life JacketPenny, who’d been crouching under the steering console out of the wind, came out to see what was up. I unfastened the leash and gave her free run of the boat. She seemed only mildly interested. Later, I put the leash back on and sat her up on the boat’s engine lid. She hung out there for a while, sniffing around, then seemed to get bored so I put her back in the boat and took the leash off again. She settled down on the carpet to nap.

It was warm out, with the sun filtered through high, thin clouds. I was wearing my bathing suit — which fits better now than it has in years — and a pair of men’s nylon swim shorts. I decided to take in some sun so I stripped off the shorts and stretched out on the engine lid in the sun. I lay there like that for a long while, listening to music through surprisingly good sounding speakers and feeling the breeze against my hair and skin as the boat drifted down the middle of the Columbia River at about 3-1/2 miles per hour.

It was very pleasant.

Boating with Mike

Unfortunately, every time I relax and clear my mind of whatever tasks I’m doing, memories of the past 29 years of my life and the way my marriage ended creep into my mind. This time, those thoughts focused around boating.

Mike and I had been boating many times in those 29 years.

One of my earliest memories of us together on a boat is on a Lake George camping trip with a bunch of friends. I think Mike and I had been together only a month or so at the time. The campsites could only be reached by boat, so we’d rented a few small motorboats to get there. On one ride after we’d set up camp, Mike’s brother was at the controls and drove us into a weird little set of waves. The boat went up and down and every time it went down, water came over the bow. It got so bad that we had to take it into shore, pull the engine off, and dump the boat out. We were that close to sinking. Mike’s brother got a lot of grief for that one.

We also went canoeing with friends on the Delaware River. I remember one trip distinctly because Mike’s brother and sister-in-law (now separated) had, for some reason, switched partners with another couple (now divorced). The canoe with Mike’s brother and the other woman — I think her name was Patty — capsized at the first rapid. Patty lost her glasses and was miserable for the rest of the day.

And then there were the boating trips with my dad. My dad had a fast boat he’d put into the Hudson River at the George Washington Bridge. He’d then take it out for a spin around Manhattan Island. (We did this quite a bit when I was a kid, but in smaller boats.) I clearly remember Mike and my dad and I standing up behind the boat’s windscreen with our faces out in the wind. The water was like glass on the Harlem River and my dad must have had that boat up to 70 or 80 miles an hour. We were passing cars on the Harlem River Drive. The wind was pushing the face of my skin back and I was laughing, having the time of my life.

My mother and stepdad also had a boat. We’d go boating with them out on the Long Island Sound and then later, when they moved to Florida, on the Intracoastal Waterway near St. Augustine. I remember a boat ride in a bad storm on the Long Island Sound. Scary exciting! On another ride in Florida, I remember seeing dolphins jumping alongside the boat. It was magical.

We did a rafting trip down the Colorado River with our friends Fred and Cheri (still married). Seven days, camping every night. We made friends with a lot of people, including Ed, who just happened to be a geologist. Can you imagine floating down through the Grand Canyon seated next to a geologist? I got terrible sunburn and was dehydrated every day but I still had an amazing time.

And then there were the house boating trips. We did two of them on Lake Powell. The first was amazing — definitely one of the top 10 vacations in my life. We went with Fred and Cheri and Oscar and Lily (now separated but living under the same roof). We cruised from Halls Crossing down to Dangling Rope Marina and back over the course of a week, exploring side canyons and hiking in the red rocks. We came in for fuel at Dangling Rope a little too fast and bashed the boat into the dock — fortunately, no damage. Poor Lily completely wigged out when she discovered that the pay phone at the marina wasn’t working. She actually found someone to place a call back to New York for her using a shortwave radio. The second, shorter houseboat trip wasn’t nearly as good. We went with my mom and stepdad and I don’t think they really appreciated the remote beauty of Lake Powell. Oh, well.

For Mike’s 40th birthday, I rented a patio boat on Lake Pleasant near our Wickenburg home. I invited a bunch of friends to join us for an afternoon on the lake. I bought a dozen lobster tails straight from Maine and we cooked them up on the beach. We almost swamped the boat on the way back, going too fast with too many people up front.

And then there were the jet skis. I went to a motorcycle shop to buy oil for my motorcycle one day and wound up buying a pair of used Yamaha Waverunners in excellent condition. We’d take them out on Lake Pleasant and use them like boats, motoring to a distant shore for a picnic and a swim. We’d wear our life jackets with our legs through the arm holes so they were like seats and we’d float around, keeping cool.

We took the jet skis out to Lake Havasu once and rode them all the way up to the Avi Casino Hotel on the border of Arizona, Nevada, and California — maybe 50 miles through Topok Gorge, the Needles area, and the small towns beyond. We spent the night at the hotel there and, in the morning, found our two jet skis beached. We had to wait until power demand caused enough water to be released from the dam upriver to float them again. Then we went up to the dam at Laughlin, bought some fuel, and sped all the way back. What a great overnight trip that was! A real adventure.

Then there was the trip to Big Bear Lake. We’d debated flying there in his plane or my helicopter and finally wound up just driving in my Honda S2000, which was pretty new back then. I can’t remember where we stayed, but I do remember the dinky little motorboat we rented for a tour around the lake — mostly because of this picture, which I used to carry around on my phone and iPad:

Mike Motoring

And I’ll never forget the overnight trip we did with Mike’s friend Leon and his wife (now divorced) in Leon’s huge catamaran. We sailed down the coast of New Jersey all the way to Atlantic City. I remember sitting out on the net with Mike over the front of the boat, in the wind and the spray with the full sails snapping behind us. We docked, went into a casino for dinner, and later returned to the boat where we slept in our own narrow cabin. All night, the boat rocked and the hardware on the ropes clanged gently. The next day, we sailed back.

Time to Go

As I lay out in the sun in my bathing suit out on the engine lid of my little boat, drifting down the Columbia River with my little dog, memories of all these boat trips flashed through my mind — like so many other memories from the past 29 years have been doing for the past two months. After a while, it became too much to bear.

I put my shorts back on and started up the engine. I motored all the way back to my launch point at full throttle while Penny cowered behind the steering column again.

It took two tries to dock the boat by myself. Not bad, considering I was so out of practice and there’s a current at the dock.

A while later, I was driving back to the mobile mansion with Penny beside me and the boat in tow. I was still thinking about all those boat rides, wondering whether Mike remembered them, too. Or had he somehow managed to erase the memories of the 29 years we had together?

Mike won’t read this blog post. He never reads my blog. He was never really interested in the things I blogged about.

But his lawyers will read it. And they’ll print it out and bring it to court with them as evidence. Of what, I don’t know. My fond memories of a life with a man I loved? That’s the only thing I’ve written about here.

A divorce might dissolve a marriage. But unfortunately, it can’t eliminate everything that went before it.

Next time I go boating, I’ll bring a friend.

My Experience with Aging, Weight, and Medifast

What I can tell you from my experience — and how you can avoid having to eat out of a box.

I was a skinny kid, all skin and bones. I was active — all kids who lived in the suburbs were back then — and I had good genes. My dad, after all, was 6’4″ tall and skinny as a pole.

It wasn’t until I got into junior high school that I started filling out. In eighth grade, I was probably close to my full height of 5’8″ and I was wearing jeans with a 31″ waist. I probably weighed about 130 pounds.

My Metabolism and Weight

In 1978, I started college. At the time, I still lived at home in Kings Park, NY on Long Island. I commuted to school in Hempstead, NY, a distance of about 35 miles. I also had a part time job in a clothing store near home and worked about 20 hours a week. Without any effort on my part, all that teen fat fell off me. Indeed, I couldn’t put weight on if I tried. By the spring of 1980, when I finally moved on campus, I weighed 105 pounds. I looked skeletal, like the poster girl for an eating disorder clinic.

The school meal plan cured me. Those warm, soft dinner rolls! The weight came back on slowly. When I graduated in May 1982, I weighted about 130 pounds again. I looked good — even in a bikini, which is hard to imagine now.

Fortunately, my metabolism stayed high throughout my 20s. Unfortunately, I went on the pill, which changes a woman’s normal hormonal balance. I blame that hormone change for the 10 or so pounds I gained in my 20s.

After that, as I aged, my weight rose slowly but steadily, year after year. As many of us age, we become less active. I spent a lot of time sitting in my car commuting or sitting at my desk writing books to earn a living. I wasn’t running around, eating snacks on the run instead of full meals. I had money and could afford to eat well. And I did. Very well.

Hints of a Weight Problem

My husband and I went on a Caribbean cruise back in 2002. It was the same year my brother got married. I was one of the bridesmaids and I had a typically silly dress I had to wear. I took the dress along on the cruise as my “formal wear.” The dress was a size 14 and it was snug. When I got back from the cruise, I tipped the scales at 180 pounds.

Ouch.

I started watching what I ate. I got my weight down to the 170-175 pound range. If you looked at me, you wouldn’t say, “She’s fat.” You’d say, “She’s a big girl.” I was.

My husband, in the meantime, had also porked up a bit. He was weighing in a little over 200 pounds. He’s 5’10” tall and was always very athletic. But by that time, we’d moved to Arizona where he couldn’t participate in the men’s sports he’d enjoyed back in New Jersey. He was losing muscle tone. Nothing serious, but we both noticed it.

We got on Atkins. Atkins is basically a zero-carb diet. And you can say what you like about its nutritional value or faults, but if you stick to it, it works. In a very short period of time, he got down to about 180 pounds and I got down to 160.

Captain MariaThat’s where I was when I worked as a pilot at the Grand Canyon in the summer of 2004. 160 pounds is a perfect weight for a helicopter pilot. It’s light so you can take on more passengers, cargo, or fuel. But it’s not too light to fly solo in most helicopters without adding ballast.

As for Atkins, it might work, but it’s a horrible diet for life. I simply couldn’t stick with it.

Body, Mind, and Weight Changes

In 2006, I was diagnosed with a tumor in my uterus. The “cure” was a radical hysterectomy — they basically cut me open and took out all my internal reproductive organs. (I have a cesarean scar without ever having had a baby!) Losing these parts wasn’t a huge deal for me, since I didn’t plan to have children. But it did push me through menopause at age 44.

Fortunately, the tumor was not malignant and I didn’t need any further treatment for it.

Unfortunately, menopause is a huge change in a woman’s body chemistry. Without certain hormones being produced, metabolism changes. Or at least that’s what seems to happen. I certainly porked up afterward, shooting back up to 180 pounds in no time.

Time marched on. My life changed. My relationship changed. I worked hard to keep my weight from rising. But this past winter, when I was back in Arizona, away from my friends, in a dying marriage, I ate for comfort. I ate too much. I ate the wrong things.

And I gained weight. When I left Arizona in May, I was 195 pounds.

And I could see it. Not only were all my clothes tight — some too tight to wear! — but when I looked in the mirror, I looked like an overweight, middle-aged woman. This only fed my overall feelings of depression from loneliness and my dismal marital situation.

Knowing How Much is too Much

There are lots of resources on the web to help you understand what you should weigh and why. Many of those resources go into topics like Body Mass Index and take age and other factors into consideration. I’ll keep things simple here and concentrate mainly on weight.

Healthy Weight for WomenThe Rush University Medical Center publishes a simple table of healthy weights. I took the numbers on the Female side of the table, fed them into Excel, and got the following simple chart. A healthy weight is between the two colored lines for your height.

According to this data, I should weigh 126 to 154 pounds. I was 41 pounds overweight. Ouch!

BMI CalculatorThe U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) has a bunch of information about healthy weight. Its Healthy Weight Tools page includes a link to a BMI Calculator. Using this calculator for my maximum healthy weight (per Rush University’s table), my BMI would be 23.4, which is considered within “Normal” range. So is 160 pounds, which is what I wanted to be.

I should mention here that the added weight was also causing health problems. Although high blood pressure and stroke run in my family, it wasn’t until I gained all that weight that my blood pressure rose beyond what’s healthy. My fear of stroke — and my desire to keep working as a pilot — forced me to get it under control with medication. I’m not a big believer in taking pills and it bothered me that I had to rely on them to keep healthy.

My Solution: Medifast

With the blood pressure situation on my mind and a divorce looming, I realized that I had to take action. I needed to take control, lose weight, and get healthy again.

Around this time, I ran into my friend Mike T. Mike’s a pilot with US Air. He’s in his late 50s and was always a big guy. I hadn’t seen him for at least two years, although we were sometimes in touch via email. When I ran into him at an FAA meeting at PHX tower, he looked remarkably different. Turns out, he’d lost 80 pounds.

Mike wound up working with me in Washington on my cherry drying contracts. When he brought his helicopter up in May with his wife and a friend, we all got together with another pilot friend, Jim, for dinner in Mattawa, WA. That’s when I discovered that his wife had lost 70 pounds. That’s right: between the two of them, they’d lost what I should weigh.

How did they do it? Medifast.

They told us a little about it at dinner. Cheryl (Mike’s wife) is a “health coach.” You can read her story on her “Take Shape for Life” website. You can also see before and after photos of her and Mike. She didn’t try to sell it to either me or Jim (who is also overweight). But by the time dinner was over, Jim was thinking hard about it. A few days later, he’d signed up. A week later, I signed up.

Medifast is a combination of specially formulated, packaged foods with a meal plan. You eat six (yes, six) meals a day. Five of those meals come out of boxes. The sixth meal is a “lean and green” that consists of lean protein (meat, chicken, or fish) plus a low carb green vegetables.

As I mentioned elsewhere, most of the box items are powder or powder plus other ingredients. You add water, then either shake, cook, or microwave. Some of the items are prepared, like snack bars or crackers. There’s a decent variety of items, so you don’t have to eat the same thing all the time.

The important part of the plan — which I didn’t understand at first — is not how much you eat but how you spread those meals out throughout the day. Generally speaking, you need 2 to 3 hours between meals. I try to eat at 6 AM, 9 AM, noon, 3 PM, 6 PM, and 9 PM.

At first, the plan was very difficult for me. I’m a foodie and love to eat good food. Although many of the Medifast options are palatable, I could never call any of them good. (Well, maybe the chocolate pudding.) I’m also a big eater and when you put a big plate of tasty food in front of me, I’m more likely to clean that plate than leave anything on it. And the Medifast meal portions are small.

The meals are formulated to be low in calories, fat, and carbs. For example, I had chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. (Well, technically it’s pancake because I make one big one.) 90 calories, 1/2 gram fat, and 11 grams net carbs. The shake I just had for meal #2 is 110 calories, 1 gram of fat, and 9 grams net carbs. The chocolate pudding I like so much is 110 calories, 1 gram fat, and 11 grams net carbs. At the same time, the meals are fortified with vitamins and minerals so you’re sure to get required nutrients.

So what the plan does is spread a small amount of nutritionally balanced caloric intake throughout the day. Your body is eating less, but it never tells itself to go into “starvation mode” and burn muscle instead of fat. And the nutrients are there, so you really never feel like you’re dieting. With normal activity (or a little extra exercise) and a lot of water to stay hydrated and flush your system out, the fat falls off.

Really.

And the good part about all this is that over time, you get used to the box food and eating less. So while the first month was miserable for me, the second was easier. I’m halfway into month 3 now and I’m not suffering at all.

I should mention here that I don’t stick to the plan like glue. Occasionally, I’ll go out to eat with friends and eat a salad that isn’t exactly a “lean and green” meal. In every single case, I’ll only eat half of the restaurant portion and bring the other half home for the next day’s lean and green meal. Amazingly, half a restaurant salad satisfies me now. I’ve cut back on my wine consumption — I probably drink just one glass a week now. And although fruit is verboten, you can’t stop me from eating fresh cherries and blueberries that I pick myself every evening.

My results? Well, I weigh myself daily and write down the results on a chart I keep on the back of the medicine cabinet door. The results either motivate or scold me. Over time, they’ve motivated me to stick with it. I also measure my bust/waist/hips once a month.

I fed the weight numbers into an Excel spreadsheet and charted them. I also did some math on the measurements.

Drum roll, please….

My Weight, ChartedIn 2-1/2 months, I’ve lost 28 pounds and a total of 11 inches, 7 of which are from my waist. I am less than 8 pounds from my goal weight of 160 pounds and am considering taking it all the way down to 150 — a new goal I’m confident I can reach.

I feel great! I have lots of energy and (other than bouts of depression caused by my divorce woes) feel really upbeat and happy. I feel positive about my health and my future. I’ve even gotten off one of my blood pressure meds.

My clothes are no longer tight. In fact, some have become so loose that they look silly on me. My big reward when I reach my goal weight is the new wardrobe I’ll be buying. That and the ability to get into a few pairs of old jeans in my closet back home.

I can honestly say that losing weight was one of the best decisions I made in my life. I only regret that I let my body get to the point where it was necessary.

And yes, you can expect some “after” photos when I reach my goal. There are no “before” photos since I really didn’t want my photo taken when I was at my heaviest. In a way, I wish I had a fatty picture to share. It would remind me of the place I never want to be again.

I’ll also fill you in on my transition off the box food to regular food. Although I had my doubts in the beginning, I now think can do it. We’ll see.

Jim’s Results

Oddly, as I was writing this post, Jim called. I’d forwarded him a link to the weight table I mentioned earlier, along with my current status. He wanted to congratulate me.

We both had the same goal: to be 160-pound pilots. He’s now below that goal and shooting for 150. His wife just got on the program and has begun to lose weight, too. They’re supporting each other for better health.

Don’t Let It Happen to You!

Of course, I got fat by letting the weight creep up slowly throughout years and years of my life. I think this is what happens to many people — especially those who don’t have weight problems when they’re young and more active. A pound here, three pounds there, five pounds over the holidays that don’t all come off in the spring. It all adds up. You can accept these small weight changes because they’re small. But they’re also insidious. And if you let them, they’ll destroy your health and well-being.

My advice? Consult a reputable healthy weight chart to see what you should weigh. If you’re just a little bit more than that, begin changing your eating habits to eat less and to eat smarter. Just avoiding high carb foods like bread, potatoes, and pasta should be a big help. You might also consult a blog post I wrote a few years ago when it was easier for me to control my weight: “8 Ways to Lose Weight without Dieting or Exercise.”

But if you’re quite a bit beyond what you should be, maybe its time for drastic measures. Medifast is drastic, but it’s healthy and it does work. You can visit Cheryl’s website to learn more. Don’t let the cost of the food scare you off — remember, you won’t be buying much else in the way of groceries, so you really won’t be spending much more than you usually do on food. Or find some other plan that works for you.

But do it now. Don’t wait until it gets so out of control that you can’t help yourself.

Postscript:

I wrote this blog post on Tuesday morning. I didn’t post it right away because I’d already published two other posts. Instead, I scheduled it for Wednesday.

On Tuesday afternoon, I went into East Wenatchee to get a haircut. Afterwards, I hit the mall where I stopped into Macy’s to see about buying a new pair of jeans. All of my jeans, which were tight when I arrived here in May, are now very loose. My kinda sexy tight black jeans, which I like to wear with my cowboy boots when I go out with friends, were no longer either tight or remotely sexy. I wanted to replace them.

I was a size 14. I grabbed a bunch of pants in size 12, thinking to myself: “Wouldn’t it be great if I were a whole size smaller?” When I tried them on, I was shocked. They were loose on me, too.

I went back out onto the sales floor and grabbed the same collection of jeans in size 10. And guess what? They fit!

I’m now two sizes smaller than I was 10 weeks ago.

I have not been a size 10 since I was in my 30s. I’m thinking that if I stick to this and get down to 150, I might be back to a size 8. I haven’t been there since I was in my 20s.

To celebrate, I bought a pair of jeans, a denim skirt, four shirts (size medium!), three pairs of socks, four pairs of lace panties (why the hell not?), and three pairs of shoes, including black faux alligator heels.

I would have bought a pair of earrings to replace the ones my husband gave me that I always wore, but I couldn’t find anything I liked. I’ll keep looking.

In the meantime, I really like the new me.

Hiking with Penny

We’re still working on it.

Yesterday, I went on my first real hike with Penny. This differs from our orchard walks in that we were out in the woods with a lot of unknowns.

My goal is to get her to walk with me off-leash and reliably come when I call her. She’s fine off-leash — she doesn’t go far and she seems to stay out of trouble. But she doesn’t reliably come when I call. And that’s just not acceptable.

I’m hoping its because she’s still a puppy. We figure she’s about 5 months old.

She’s also still tiny. I weighed her yesterday. She was 4.7 pounds. The vet seems to think she might get up to 6 pounds.

It’s hard to photograph her for two reasons:

  • She’s almost all black. It’s really tough to get a good exposure of her features. Photoshop’s Shadows/Highlights feature really helps.
  • She never stops moving. To get this shot, I had to place her on top of a rock that was too high for her to jump off of.

Anyway, here’s the latest photo:

Penny on a Hike

I’ll keep working with her. Eventually, I think she’ll come around. She’s not a dumb dog. She just doesn’t have her priorities straight yet.

Freedom without Guilt

Looking at the positive side of divorce.

My friends have all been incredibly supportive as I go through the divorce process. They’re constantly offering uplifting words of wisdom and telling me to treat myself well.

Another author, who I remain in contact with mostly via Twitter, said in a private direct message:

long time ago— after breakup—I asked myself—what couldn’t I do while still in arelationship—I went to art school. You?… travel…?

I responded truthfully:

I’ve always had a lot of freedom to do what I want. Now I have freedom without guilt.

And I think that sums up the situation pretty well. Although I’m still not sure how the divorce will affect me financially, I know it won’t change the core of what I do with my life.

My husband didn’t didn’t have any real direction — he’s been like a rudderless ship for a long while. I need a direction to move in, so I made my own. My husband always gave me the freedom to do that. (I think that’s where our relationship was far better than average — we gave each other the freedom to do what we wanted.) He also followed my lead in many things: learning to ride motorcycles, owning and riding horses, and learning to fly are just three examples.

Although he never complained about us mostly doing “my” things — until it was too late and the marriage was over — near the end I felt a sort of unspoken resentment from him when I did or suggested doing things he didn’t approve of. When I carried on — as I always did when he said nothing to stop me — I felt deep down inside that things weren’t quite right, but could never identify the source of the feeling.

I realize now that it was guilt.

His unspoken cues signaling disapproval of certain decisions and actions were picked up by my subconscious, making me feel guilty without knowing why. The feeling manifested itself as a sort of uneasiness that made what I was doing just a little less enjoyable. Or, worse yet, made me doubt, for no logical reason, whether what I was doing was right.

That’s all gone now. Without the disapproving frowns and glares, I can get on with my life without feeling guilty. That is, by far, the best outcome of this divorce.

It’s a real shame that he didn’t speak up and communicate better with me while we were together. I think a lot of the problems that we had in the last few years would’ve been resolved before they eventually destroyed our marriage. Communication was always a one-way street with us. He claims I never gave him a chance to speak, but in reality he never really tried to.

Hell, I don’t talk all the time.

One of the things I’m looking for in my next partner is someone who can always be honest with me and communicate exactly what’s on his mind. I’d rather be with someone who lets me know — in no uncertain terms — when he’s not happy with me than feel that uneasy sensation of guilt when I’m doing something he doesn’t approve of.

Cross-Country Flight: Wenatchee, WA to Coeur d’Alene, ID

A photo tour.

Earlier this month, my friend Jim’s cherry drying contract in Chelan, WA ended. He was faced with the task of bringing his helicopter and his truck back home to Coeur d’Alene.

His helicopter was running low on time — it would need a 100-hour/annual inspection within 6.5 hours. It was a 1.5 hour trip to Coeur d’Alene. He planned to fly home, pick up his wife, fly back to Chelan so she could drive the truck home, and then fly back to Coeur d’Alene. In other words, he would put 4.5 hours on it, leaving just 2 hours before maintenance was due. That’s cutting it pretty darn close.

My helicopter was relatively fresh out of maintenance and I was suffering from the RV version of cabin fever, so I volunteered to do a flight of two helicopters from Chelan to Coeur d’Alene and then fly him back to Chelan so he could drive the truck back. We agreed on a meeting time of about 5 PM.

I figured I’d use the flight to experiment with my three GoPro cameras. I wanted to give the wireless remote a good workout on the GoPro Hero 2, which I use as my “nosecam.”

Chelan is about 20 minutes from my base (at the time) in Wenatchee Heights. After rigging up the cameras and doing a preflight, I took off on a route that mostly followed the Columbia River.

I started having trouble with the GoPro remote right from the start. First, I discovered that the remote’s battery was too low to operate. This wasn’t a huge deal because I had a USB power supply and could plug it in. But it did irk me because I thought it was fully charged. What was worse, however, and couldn’t be resolved in flight, was that the remote back on the camera had apparently turned itself off before I used the remote to turn the camera on. The remote couldn’t find the back (and camera) and, thus, couldn’t turn on the camera. It wasn’t until I got to Chelan that I was able to resolve that problem.

The skidcam and cockpit cam worked fine, though.

I had the skidcam set up for one still photo every 5 seconds. In hindsight, I should have set it for every 2 seconds. But I did capture a bunch of nice shots, like this one as I departed my landing zone. The orchard I’m on contract for fills the frame; you can see my shadow:

Wenatchee Heights Orchard

A bit further along on the flight, as I flew out of the Squilchuck Valley, the skidcam caught this image of South Wenatchee, the Columbia River, and East Wenatchee:

East Wenatchee Aerial

I should mention here that the skidcam ran until its battery died; I only shut it off briefly while I waited in Chelan and later in Coeur d’Alene. I have over 3,500 photos from that camera.

My route followed the Columbia River, flying mostly right over the main channel. The nosecam would have gotten some really rocking footage that probably wouldn’t have been too useable because of the high winds bouncing me around in the sky. But the stills would have looked good. Here’s a view from the cockpit cam shot not far past the Rocky Reach Dam:

Cockpit View of Columbia River

If you’ve got a sharp eye, you might notice something in the front passenger seat. That’s Penny the Tiny Dog’s bed. Penny slept for most of the flight — as she usually does in the helicopter. But every once in a while, she’d poke her head up and look around. Here’s another shot as we came over the ridge and began our descent to Lake Chelan:

Flying with Penny

Normally, when I fly to Chelan Airport, I follow the river all the way. But I’d gotten a call from someone who wanted an engagement flight out to Tsillan Cellars Winery on the south shore of Lake Chelan. I wanted to scout the possible landing zones. I circled the winery once and decided that both offered landing zones would work. The one I’d use, however, was the one right at the end of the entry road, by the winery’s big sign. Showy and convenient and not too tight. Here’s a shot from the skidcam as I circled:

Tsillan Cellars Winery

From there, I continued on to the airport, flying over downtown Chelan along the way. I landed in the field near Jim’s helicopter and began the shutdown process. While I was waiting for the engine to cool, I put Penny on her leash and dropped her gently onto the ground. She wandered into the frame of the skidcam as Jim pulled up beside me.

Penny at Chelan

Jim topped off both of my fuel tanks with the fuel he had on his truck. There was no reason to drive all that fuel out to Coeur d’Alene later on. I fiddled with my cameras and got them running. We took off as a flight of two with Jim leading the way, heading almost due east.

Despite the fact that the airport is at least 500 feet over the river, we began climbing as soon as we departed. We had to clear the cliffs and climb up to the Waterville Plateau. I followed Jim, trying hard to keep my eyes on the red speck of his helicopter, concerned about catching up with him because of my helicopter’s slightly greater power. (More on that in a moment.) When we topped the cliff, he was easy to spot above the horizon; this nosecam still gives you an idea:

Climbing to Watervill Plateau

I was pleasantly surprised to find that although we had a tailwind, it wasn’t gusty and the flight was much smoother. The thought of spending an hour each way bouncing around the sky wasn’t appealing. But that wasn’t the case.

I soon learned that my Raven II helicopter is not faster than Jim’s Raven I. There are two possible reasons for this:

  • His helicopter is lighter, weighing in at less than 1450 empty. My ship’s empty weight is 1515. I assume he had full fuel (as I did) and we weigh about the same. Not sure how much gear he had on board with him, but I’m certain that his flight weight was lighter than mine. Although probably not much.
  • His chart for maximum manifold pressure allows him to pull at least an inch more power than I can in the same conditions. I have no idea why our charts are different.

In either case, he was able to get 5 to 10 knots more airspeed than me. It wasn’t long before his helicopter became a faint dot in the distance.

Meanwhile, the light was getting good and the combines were out harvesting the dry-farmed wheat up on the plateau. We paused enroute while I circled a field with two combines at work. This is where I really wish I’d set the camera for a shot every 2 seconds instead of 5. Although I got one so-so shot, I missed so many other possible shots:

Combine at Work

Afterward, I was ahead of Jim for a short time. My skidcam and then my nosecam caught him passing me:

Racing with Jim

Losing the Race with JIm

The landscape continued with rolling wheat fields, most of which were already harvested. It suddenly gave way to Banks Lake, a dammed coulee filled with water pumped up from the Columbia River at the Grand Coulee Dam. Here’s the last still clip from the nosecam — I’d mistakenly inserted a 2GB SD card instead of the usual 16GB SD card so I only got about 30 minutes of video. (Sheesh.) Jim told me, over the radio, that the rock formation in the lake is called Steamboat.

Banks Lake

Although my skidcam kept shooting, it had shifted somewhat and was no longer level — if indeed it ever was. It produced this slanted view of the lake as we were crossing the cliffs on the other side:

Banks Lake

Beyond that, my skidcam caught a few more images of combines out in the field. Here’s one corrected for the camera’s tilt:

Another Harvest Shot

After more relatively flat farmland, the landscape began to change. There were more and more trees and canyons mixed in with the farmland.

Farmland in the Hills

Soon we were flying along a bend in the Columbia River. Later, we were alongside the Spokane River.

Spokane River

By this time, Jim was so far ahead of me that I simply couldn’t see him. We finally determined, based on distance to KCOE, that he was four miles ahead of me. It wasn’t exactly a “flight of two helicopters” anymore.

A while later, we landed at Coeur d’Alene. Jim’s wife met us there. They exchanged hugs and he put his helicopter away in the hangar while Penny and I stretched our legs. Then he and I climbed back into my helicopter with Penny in the back seat and we took off on the flight home.

By this time, only the skidcam was still taking pictures. And because it was facing mostly into the sun, it didn’t get too many good shots. It’s a real shame because the light was really nice by then. Here’s a sample image shot somewhere over Washington at about 7:47 PM:

Return Flight

We chatted all the way back. When Iet him off at Chelan Airport, I had to shut down to take on more fuel. Then I took off back toward Wenatchee, where I was living at the time, and he drove off back toward Idaho.

My skidcam caught this image of Wenatchee as I crossed the Columbia River:

Night Over Wenatchee

I touched down in my parking spot with just my landing light to guide me.