Wickenburg to Seattle: My Co-Pilot

A fisheye photo of my companion for the flight.

Other Articles in the
Wickenburg to Seattle Series:

Prepping for the Long Flight
My Co-Pilot
Day One (Wickenburg to Ukiah)
Day Two (Ukiah to Portland)
Day Three (Portland to Seattle)

Say what you like about my goofy fisheye lens, but it does make it possible to take a photo of my flying companion, Louis, seated beside me at the controls in a relatively tight cockpit. Here we’ve just reached the coast after leaving San Luis Obispo.

Louis at the Controls

Would love to write more about Day One, but I’m too pooped. Perhaps in the morning; we don’t meet until 8 AM and I’m a very early riser. I have more photos to share, too.

Quick Note to Blog Readers

I may be off the grid for a few days.

Just want to let readers know that while I’m traveling for the next five or so days, I might not be able to check the site regularly. Since all comments must go through moderation, posted comments may not appear for a few days. Be patient; I will eventually get around to it.

I look forward to posting updates about my trip and reading your comments.

Wickenburg to Seattle: Prepping for the Long Flight

Planning the flight, packing the helicopter.

Other Articles in the
Wickenburg to Seattle Series:

Prepping for the Long Flight
My Co-Pilot
Day One (Wickenburg to Ukiah)
Day Two (Ukiah to Portland)
Day Three (Portland to Seattle)

Tomorrow, my “co-pilot” and I start our journey by helicopter from Wickenburg, AZ to Seattle, WA. If everything goes according to plan, Louis will be doing most of the flying while I sit back and enjoy the ride as a passenger seated in the pilot seat. I won’t fly from the right seat, but Louis, who is a certified flight instructor (CFI) has no qualms about doing so. In fact, he might even prefer it.

I plan on having my door off for at least a few legs of the flight so I can take photos of the interesting things we pass. I also have the POV.1 camera hooked up to the helicopter’s nose and hope to get some decent video.

The Route

There are at least three ways to make this trip. I’ve sketched them in on this map for reference:

  • Possible RoutesThe direct route (red on the map) would take us northwest through Arizona, Utah, Nevada, and Oregon before hitting Washington state. I think it calculates out to 9 flying hours. The big problem with this route is that there’s nothing along the way — just a lot of barren desert. The airports are few and far between and the fuel stops are even more rare. In fact, if we went that way, we’d be basically flying from one fuel stop to the next with few, if any, other landing opportunities in between. If we had a problem and had to land off-airport, we’d be in the Middle of Nowhere (note the capitals — I’m talking about the actual place) and it could take a while to get help. Think Steve Fossett.
  • The common route (for lack of a better identifier; green on the map) would take us west until we passed the southern end of the Sierra Mountains, then north over the pass at Tehatchapi or Grapevine into California’s Central Valley. That’s the route I have most experience with. The Central Valley isn’t terribly interesting after the first ten minutes of flight since the whole thing is just a bunch of farmland. My experience there has usually included some pretty dismal visibility with lots of haze that gets worse the higher you go until you pop out the top, where it’s crystal clear but you can’t really see the ground. If you stay low — maybe about 500 feet — you have to worry about towers and cropdusters appearing suddenly out of the haze. Beyond that, the flight crosses some small mountains on its way into western Oregon, crosses the Columbia River east of Hood River, and passes Mt. St. Helens on the west side. This route calculates out to about 10 hours of flight time.
  • The scenic route (blue on the map) starts out the same as the common route with a trip west across the Arizona and California deserts. But it keeps going west near Grapevine, straight to the coast. It then pretty much hugs the coast all the way up to the middle of the Oregon Coast before heading northeast through Portland and then on to Seattle. Highlights of this trip include Hearst Castle (San Simeon), Monterey, Half Moon Bay, the Golden Gate (and San Francisco), Mendocino, etc. This route calculates out to just over 12 hours.

We’re planning on the scenic route. Of course, if visibility on the coast turns bad, we’ll head inland and wind up in the Central Valley anyway.

The Plan

The flight plan for a trip like this might seem daunting, but as Louis pointed out, it’s just a series of shorter flights. I figure we can fly for about 3 hours on full tanks of fuel, so I like to plan my fuel stops no less than 2-1/4 hours and no more than 2-3/4 hours apart.

There are lots of good fuel planning tools on the Web for small aircraft. 100LL.com is one of my favorites, although AirNav, which I don’t particularly care for because of its commercial policies — when I ran the Wickenburg FBO, AirNav would not include us unless we paid to be included, so it’s not complete — usually has more up-to-date pricing.

For actual route planning, nothing beats a world aeronautical chart (WAC) for the areas you plan to fly through along with AOPA‘s Airport Directory and Duats. Here’s how I plan for flights:

  1. Use the WAC to get an idea of the route you want to fly.
  2. Identify possible obstacles like Restricted areas and mountain ranges that might get in your way.
  3. Identify possible refueling airports.
  4. List the identifiers of the airports along your route of travel.
  5. Use Duats to create a flight plan with the airports you noted.
  6. Check the amount of time the route will take to fly.
  7. If necessary, adjust the route to stretch it out or shorten it up to within 20 minutes (for a helicopter) of your expected endurance. That becomes a flight leg.
  8. Use AOPA’s Airport Directory to check for facilities at potential fuel stop airports at the end of the route. (Restaurants are important.)
  9. Use 100LL.com or AirNav to get the best pricing for fuel at the fuel stops.
  10. Repeat this process for each leg of the trip, being sure to consider alternates along the way.

I figure this 12+ hour trip will consist of six legs. The first is Wickenburg to Apple Valley or Hesperia, CA. (Hesperia has much better fuel prices.) The second is from there to San Luis Obispo on the coast, which has good fuel prices and a restaurant. Next is from there to Healdsburg, CA, just north of San Francisco in Sonoma Valley. Good fuel prices and not far from our coastal route. That’s about as far as I’ve gotten as I type this. We’ll plan the rest later today.

Some other things to consider include:

  • Detours because of weather. Weather is a wildcard when you fly up the California coast. We have to be prepared to detour inland if the fog rolls in.
  • Places to spend the night. We’ll stop somewhere in northern California — hopefully with a hotel within walking distance or a courtesy/crew car we can borrow for the night. Then Portland, because I have business there the next morning.
  • Emergency landings. I follow roads for a reason. If we have to make an unexpected off-airport landing, I want to do it someplace relatively close to a road, where we can hitch a ride to a place we can find help.
  • Water crossings. My helicopter does not have floats. That means we need to be within gliding distance of land or have floatation devices on board. The only place I expect that to be a problem is at the Golden Gate. I’m packing two life jackets and I expect us to wear them during coastal flying.

Other Things to Bring

In addition to our luggage for the 3-day trip, I’m also bringing a few extras for the helicopter:

  • Blade tie-downs. We’ll be tying down the blades each night. I have a collapsable step-stool that’s just high enough for me to reach the blades. Louis is very tall, so it should be perfect for him.
  • Oil. I usually carry a spare quart, but I’ll bring along four quarts on this trip. I expect to use 2 or 3 of them.
  • Ground handling wheels. I don’t usually bring them because they’re so darn big and heavy, but they’ll be on board for this trip. I’ll also be bringing a custom front wheel that Walt at N & W Helicopter Wheels made for me.
  • Bubble cover. I’ll probably use this to cover the helicopter so I don’t have to remove the camera on its nose. Out of sight, out of mind.
  • Door cover. This is a fuzzy fabric cover I made for the doors on my old R22. I’ll bring one along to cover my door when I stow it in back during the flight. It’ll help protect the Plexiglas.
  • Life jackets. See above.
  • Small cooler with snacks and lots of water. I prefer chilled water over warm water, so I’m more likely to stay hydrated if I have the water on ice.
  • iPod. Hey, it works with my audio system, so why not?

I’ll also have the usual collection of first aid and survival gear on board, as well as a complete set of charts and Airport/Facilities Directories for all the airspace we fly through.

Follow Me on Twitter!

I’ll have my Treo along and since it doesn’t interfere with the navigation equipment, I’ll be tweeting my progress. Look for the L: tweets — for example, L:Parker, AZ, L:Rice, CA. I might even send some pictures taken with the phone. The quality won’t be the best, but it should give you an idea of what we’re seeing. Just keep in mind that if I’m out of cell phone coverage area, the tweets might not appear in the proper order. If you follow along on a map, don’t think we’re zig-zagging around.

On Twitter, I’m mlanger.

And, as you might expect, I’ll be blogging each night, with better quality photos to show off the highlights of the trip.

My Longest Cross-Country Flight So Far

This is my longest cross-country flight so far. Before this, my longest flight was to Placerville, CA, which I did twice; it took 6 hours in the R44. I’ve also gone as far northeast as Farmington, NM, which is about 4 hours away.

I’m extremely excited about the flight and despite forecasts of wind and hot temperatures, I’m really looking forward to it. I hope I have some good experiences to report here.

Stay tuned.

More Stupid eBay Buyers

Proof (again) that many people who buy on eBay are idiots.

A few months back, I speculated that eBay was for suckers when I reported on the condition of a “mint” condition lens I’d bought at almost retail and an auction for another lens that I passed on when the bid went more than $100 higher than the selling price on Amazon.com.

What “Mint” Really Means

According to my Mac OS X Dictionary widget, mint, when used as an adjective, means “in pristine condition; as new.” If that’s the case, then why is the term “mint,” when used on eBay, always followed up with additional describing words and phrases like “It is in mint condition, no scratches, no dust and no marks”?

Hello? Mint means mint. Like new. New items don’t have scratches or dust.

Unless, of course, you’re dealing with an eBay item.

The lens I bought that was in “mint” condition looked as if it had been on a shelf for two years. Yes, some of the dust had been wiped off, but there was enough in the cracks and crevices to tell the tale. And there was the tiniest of scratches on the lens closest to the camera body. That’s not mint.

And my husband, who recently decided that the low profile wheels that came with his used AMG weren’t quite right for Wickenburg’s dirt roads, replaced them with “mint” condition stock wheels. In the seller’s world, “mint” is an adjective that can be applied to tire rims that have obviously been scraped along a curb. No amount of polishing will get those scratches out. My husband’s good deal wasn’t such a good deal after all.

I try to use words carefully. Because of that, I would never apply the word “mint” to any item that has been used in any way. Unfortunately, I’m one of the few people who take the meaning of words like “mint” seriously.

The Price Thing Still Cracks Me Up

The other day, I bought another lens from Amazon.com — but not before I started “watching” an auction for a “4-month old,” “mint” condition lens on eBay. The auction ended a little while ago and the lens sold for $454. Add $19.95 shipping and the final price was just $5 less than I paid Amazon for a brand new lens.

I don’t know about you, but I think it’s worth the extra $5 to get something brand new in a box, shipped by a reputable company than to get suckered in by yet another eBay seller offering “mint” merchandise that isn’t.

So the question is, don’t these eBay buyers do their homework? Don’t they realize that they can buy brand new items for less than they’re paying for [often] misrepresented used items?

Or does the excitement of the auction process get them to bid stupidly?

Why I Look for Summer Jobs

It’s not the money — it’s the challenge.

I’m one of the few people I know who is on the cusp of two careers.

My second career, as a freelance writer, has kept me busy since 1990, writing books and articles about using computers. It’s a great career for me, mostly because the work seems to come naturally, so it isn’t very difficult, and because I get to buy a lot of cool computer toys to write about. (Of course, it would be better if someone just gave me those toys, but at least I have legitimate writeoffs.) But as printed publishing begins to wane and the computer users throughout the world mature beyond the need for beginner to intermediate books, my writing opportunities fade. I’ve embraced new media like ebooks and digital training via screencasts, but I believe my heydays as a computer how-to author are over. Sure, I can continue to move forward and earn a comfortable living, but it just isn’t the same as it was — for more reasons than I’m willing to discuss here.

MariaAndHelicopterMy third career, as a helicopter pilot, began to get interesting back in 2001, when I got my commercial rating. That’s when I was allowed to fly for hire. In 2005, when I took delivery of my Robinson R44 Raven II and got my FAA Part 135 Certificate, things really took off — if you’ll pardon the pun. In addition to the tour and air-taxi work I get primarily out of the Phoenix area — if I had to do all my flights from Wickenburg, I’d starve — I also get a great variety of other challenging jobs: aerial photography, search, survey, etc. Not only does this keep the flying work interesting, but it’s enough to cover all the costs of owning and operating the helicopter. Lately, it’s even been earning a tiny profit.

The two careers fit perfectly together. I don’t hang out at an office at the airport, waiting for people to come in. (I almost got an airport office here in town. Fortunately, I had enough brains to turn down that opportunity.) Instead, I go about my writing business until the phone rings. Then, when the flight is scheduled, I put down whatever I was working on, head out to the airport, preflight, pull the helicopter out, fuel up, and take care of business. When I’m done, I put everything away and come back to my office to continue work. Or to take the rest of the day off.

Summer Jobs

Captain MariaI got my first “summer job” as a pilot working at the Grand Canyon in 2004. I wanted a new experience — and I got it. I also got the benefits and drawbacks of working as an employee, which is something I hadn’t experienced since 1989 when I left my last “real” job to go freelance. Benefits: steady paycheck, social interaction, learning new skills with guidance (as opposed to self-teaching). Drawbacks: fixed work day and work week, social interaction, company politics, relatively low pay.

I need to comment here on the low pay aspect of that job, since so many people seem to zero in on it. For me, it was low pay because I could make a lot more doing my other work. In fact, sometimes I did. For example, if I were a “spare” pilot who was not scheduled to fly except perhaps at lunchtime, I’d bring along my laptop and spend the day writing articles for one of my editors. If I knocked off just two articles in a day — which I could easily do — I’d earn just as much as I would flying for an entire week. And since I was accustomed to making more money, I had to keep doing my other work to maintain my standard of living. So on my weeks off from the Canyon, I’d come home and work on a book. Frankly, just about all of my pay from that summer job went to paying my income taxes on my other job.

This year, I’m flying in Washington state, doing some cherry drying. Because I’m operating my own aircraft and have a lot of associated expenses, the pay is much better — as long as I can collect it. So pay is not an issue. The work is challenging — I’ll be getting some special training in advance — and even a bit dangerous — I’ll be wearing a helmet and Nomex flight suit. And I’ll be living in a trailer either with or without a hookup, far from home and family and friends.

At the same time, I’m scheduled to write two books, one of which is a revision. Those two books are likely to earn me the same amount of money that the whole season in Washington earns me.

Why Bother?

So you might wonder: why bother?

These summer flying jobs offer benefits that I couldn’t get any other way: regular work that comes with a paycheck and tasks that challenge me to perform beyond what I normally do. By meeting these challenges, I learn and perfect skills.

The regular work part is a no-brainer. If I stayed here in Wickenburg for the summer, I’d have to deal with the brutal heat. Would you want to fly in an un-airconditioned aircraft when it’s 110°F outside? (That’s about 41°C for you metric folks out there.) I’ve done it and I don’t want to do it any more than I have to. And most potential passengers are smart — they know that summer heat is not just uncomfortable, but it causes turbulence that makes for a rough ride. So not only are you slow-roasting under a plastic magnifying glass-like bubble, but you’re being bounced around enough to make you sick. And it isn’t as if there’s a lot of this work. Last July I only had one paying gig that didn’t even take in enough money to cover my helicopter loan payment.

So if it’s regular work I’m after, leaving the area is the obvious solution. But it’s the challenges that I really want.

Flying at the Grand Canyon in the summer of 2004 taught me more about flying in wind, high density altitude, and poor visibility than any other flying I’d done up to that point. I’ve used those skills numerous times since then to operate in conditions far windier than I would have without that experience and to safely make my way through questionable weather conditions. I also picked up tips about ground safety, passenger briefings, and just dealing with passengers, as well as the entire business of flightseeing.

This year, I’m entering a whole new world of agricultural flying. It’s more precise, more dangerous, more lonely. My first field has 108 acres. Depending on how the grower wants me to fly, it’ll take 2 to 3 hours to dry it all. That’s 2 to 3 hours hovering over the tops of trees, flying a precision pattern at a constant speed and altitude. When this is over, I expect to be able to hover in any direction in almost any condition. That could set me up for other agricultural work, like frost control or possibly even spraying.

This is why I look for summer jobs. To learn more and to develop my flying skills.

Career Pilots Need to Get Serious

And I think this is why I always advise new pilots to include a season at the Grand Canyon or some other challenging environment as part of their career path. Sure, a pilot could build 2,000 hours as CFI working at or near sea level in a place where the weather is close to perfect. But what skills — beyond autorotations and other emergency maneuvers — would that build? It’s the challenging work that pilots should be hunting down. The flying that takes them to the next level.

The flying that makes them better pilots.