Submarine

Posted on by
4

A shot from over Lake Powell.

My husband and I flew up to Lake Powell the other day to take care of some business. Among our chores was a photo flight up the lake as far as The Rincon (about 79 miles uplake from the dam at Page).

SubmarineMike took this shot as we began our flight uplake. It features Padres Butte, which is known by local tour pilots as “submarine” because it looks like a submarine conning tower. There was very little wind on the lake the reflections were outrageous. The lake is as blue as ever, but if we’d taken this shot later in the afternoon, the buttes and surrounding cliffs would have looked much redder. This shot was taken around 1:30 PM.

Mike was shooting still photos while I shot video. He’s a pilot now, so we had the dual controls in. When he shot, I’d fly. When I shot, he’d fly. It worked out pretty well. We had both our doors off, so there’s no glare. We were, however, pretty darn cold — it was only 50°F up there and when you’re cruising at 80 knots with the doors off, you can’t help but get cold.

I have more photos from this trip and I’ll be uploading them to my photo gallery as I share them here.

PhotoJeeping: Mine Ruins on the Hassayampa River

Posted on by
1

Some photos from a real off-road experience.

This past Sunday, Mike and I took the Jeep up the Hassayampa River. Way up the river.

As folks around Wickenburg know, the Hassayampa is mostly dry. The water does flow year-round, but in most places, it’s below the sandy surface. In rocky areas, it flows above the surface as a small stream.

Unless it’s rainy (or has been rainy). Then it’s a real river and should not be driven in.

Our Route InOn Sunday, it was running only slightly higher than usual. We entered the riverbed near the end of Rincon Road, where it climbs up to meet Scenic Loop. There was an old manganese mine there and the dirt road is black. Going straight (instead of making the left turn) takes you on a narrow track to the river. From there, it’s just a matter of following the tire tracks left by other vehicles.

Slot CanyonWe made a few brief stops. Box Canyon was one of them. But there were motorcycles there with loud engines and we didn’t stay long. Instead, we continued upstream, into the narrow slot canyon. The water flowed from wall to wall within the canyon and I had the windshield wipers going as I slipped around in the soft sand. We stopped for a moment to take a photo of the way we’d come.

We passed through the first gate just short of Boyd Ranch, above the floodplain on our left. We passed through the second gate just before Fools Canyon. Right about there, a group of five sand rails (dune buggies) and a yellow Jeep caught up with us. (We weren’t rushing.) We pulled over to let them pass.

In many places, four wheel drive was required. So was high clearance. So unless you have a Jeep or similar vehicle or an ATV, this isn’t the kind of drive you’d want to make. You’re driving in the river, with water splashing up all around you, in many places. There’s quicksand there, so you want to keep moving anywhere the sand is soft. Gnarly tires are definitely a plus.

Desert Meets StreamWe passed many interesting spots where Sonoran desert meets year-round stream. The variations in the rock were amazing. I took quite a few photos. Some of them are in my Photo Gallery.

We were about two miles past Fools Canyon when the group that had passed us came back. One of the drivers stopped to report. “You can’t go much farther,” he said, “but it’s worth it. There are some old foundations up there.”

Mine SiteWe continued on. The river was flowing through a canyon, but the way was still passable. We soon saw the remains of a mine site on the right side of the hill. We turned the Jeep into a promising canyon where other vehicles had driven but soon reached a dead end where rocks blocked our way. We parked, got out, and hiked up the hill.

It was an interesting mine site, with some seriously heavy-duty foundations. I don’t know much about mining, but I do know that they used gravity to process the ore. That’s what most of the “foundations” were for.

TunnelFollowing a narrow path for a better view down into the river, I came across a tunnel carved into the solid granite at the side of the hill. We passed through and continued onto the other side.

Mine RuinsA bit farther down the pathway, we found the remains of a wooden mining structure, as well as some partially buried railroad steel. Evidently, the path and tunnel had been used by ore carts or some similar conveyance. Most of the steel had been removed; the one piece we saw had been buried under a rockslide.

Truck in the RiverAs we admired the view, we heard the sound of a vehicle. Down in the riverbed, a truck was driving downstream. It stopped only long enough for the driver to point out a mine shaft to his passenger, then continued on down the river. I don’t think they saw us or our Jeep.

We left a while later and spent a short time exploring the severely vandalized remains of a home across the river. Then we headed back, stopping long enough to take a few photos along the way.

We were gone about five hours and had covered about 40 miles roundtrip. We took Scenic Loop from just past Fools Canyon on the way back, minimizing our time in the riverbed.

I checked all the maps I have for the area and the mine does not appear on any of them, so I don’t know it’s name. I do know it well, however; I fly over it every time I take a tour up the Hassayampa River in my helicopter. It’s nice to know what it looks like close up.

PhotoJeeping: Fisheye Cable

Posted on by
2

Another fisheye view.

CableI shot this closeup photo of the cable for the old mine hoist at Monte Cristo Mine near Wickenburg, AZ.

The Monte Cristo is one of two relatively well-preserved mine sites on Constellation Road. This cable can be found in the hoist building beside the mine’s tower.

Photo Info:
Camera: Nikon D80
Focal Length: 10.5mm
Aperture: f/4.0
Shutter Speed: 1/60
Lat/Lon:
34.0646° / -112.5836°

View from My New Hangar

Posted on by
5

Whoa.

January 2013 Update
This hangar is now for sale. I’ve decided to relocate my business to Washington State and no longer need the hangar. Asking price $45K. I may finance 50% depending on terms. If you’re interested, contact me.

Mike and I flew up to Page, AZ yesterday. We had a few business-related things to do. Among them was to take measurements and photographs of my new hangar.

The hangar is at Page Municipal Airport and overlooks a huge, underused parking area. Beyond that is Lake Powell with Tower Butte and Navajo Mountain. See for yourself:

View from my Hangar

Not too shabby, huh?

I start flying photo flights out of there in March. I can’t wait.

Chickenless

Posted on by
2

We give away our chickens.

I’ve had chickens on and off for the past 8 or so years. We had them for fresh eggs; we never ate the chickens.

My first batch was 8 little chicks I raised from 2-days old. They spent the first eight weeks or so in our garage, under a heat lamp. We visited with them and played with them. On warm days, when I was working in the yard, I brought them out to scratch in the dirt. They had names.

We added a chicken coop to a shed near our horse corral and put them in it when it got warm enough. During the day, we’d leave the coop door open and the chickens would come out and scratch around in the dirt and horse poop.

Then one day, three of them were gone.

It was coyotes, of course. They’d discovered the chickens, which were easy prey. Coyotes grab their prey and make off with them. One year, with another batch of chickens, I actually saw a coyote running off with a chicken in its mouth.

No more days on the loose.

A friend and I built a fenced-in yard for them with a ramp from the coop into the yard. That kept the coyotes out — they didn’t seem to want to work at digging under the fence to get at the chickens.

But it didn’t stop the neighbor’s dogs. One Thanksgiving day, the doorbell rang and my neighbors brood of children were standing there. “Our dogs are eating your chickens,” they announced. We ran down to the coop to find the dogs in the yard, chasing the chickens around. They hadn’t gotten any of the chickens yet and they ran off before we could grab them.

We put electric wire around the base of the yard’s fence. The neighborhood dogs got to meet that wire one-by-one and didn’t come back.

Meanwhile, we were going through batches of chickens. They don’t live forever, you know. Sometimes they’d simply disappear. We put bird netting over the top of the yard — no small task, since a few trees grow in there. When we got down to just one chicken, we’d give it away. A few months later, we’d start again with chicks. But I never got too attached to them, since I knew what would eventually happen.

Araucana RoosterWe also started getting roosters, hoping they’d work with the chickens to keep the flock going. We did have one hen get broody and hatch two chicks. She wasn’t a good mom. The other chickens soon killed the babies.

Last time this year, I took delivery of over a dozen chicks. I raised them and set them up in the coop/yard as I do every year. They started producing eggs in the late spring, not long after I went away for my summer job. My husband was soon giving away 3 dozen eggs a week. When I got home in the fall, they were still at it.

But then they started disappearing again. We couldn’t figure out how. Were they getting out, to be killed by dogs or coyotes? Or was something getting in? We checked the coop and yard regularly. We adjusted the bird netting. Each week, we’d lose one or two birds.

We were down to seven when we realized that it could be hawks getting in at the very top of the coop. There was an opening there about 6 inches tall, just under the roof. Small birds used this access way to get into the coop and eat scratch. Mike and I closed it up with chicken wire.

Two more birds disappeared. Now it had to be hawks coming in through the yard. There was no way we could completely cover the yard with bird netting — the trees in there were just too big and bushy. So I cut off access to the yard, limiting the chickens to an 8 x 8 coop that was open on three sides.

That’s when the chickens stopped laying eggs.

It’s also when we started spending a lot more time in Phoenix. Although the chickens can be on their own for up to a week — they have automatic water and their hanging feeder can hold a week or two worth of food (depending on the number of chickens, of course) — it was silly to have to worry about them when they weren’t doing their job. I couldn’t open up the yard again; I’d just start losing them again. So I did the next best thing: I gave them away to a friend who also has chickens.

She lives in Wenden in farm country. Her chickens run lose in her back yard and seem very happy and healthy. Yes, she occasionally does pick one out for a good chicken dinner, but that’s life. I figured that my four hens and one rooster might go back to work for her — especially if they got an inkling of what might happen if they didn’t.

So now we’re chickenless.