Tag Archives: airlines

Flying Southwest

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Pleasantly pleased by the quality of service on this original-thinking airline.

I’ve been traveling a lot lately. A lot. And most of that travel has been on four airlines: US Air (formerly America West, hub in Phoenix), Alaska Air (hub in Seattle), American Airlines, and Southwest Air. Since September 2012 — that’s less than six months — I’ve flown to Phoenix, Seattle, Wenatchee, Las Vegas, Sacramento, Dallas, and Jacksonville — in many cases, multiple times to each destination. (And I want to say here how great it is to finally be able to travel without guilt or the restrictions imposed on me by my soon-to-be ex-husband.)

I always favored US Air for my trips between Phoenix and some other city served by US Air. That changed when I began making more trips to Wenatchee, which requires a stop in Seattle along the way; on those flights I use Alaska Air/Horizon. And although I used to use Continental (now part of United) for my trips to Florida through their Houston hub, I switched to American through Charlottesville, NC in 2011.

SouthwestI’d flown Southwest Air back in its infancy, when people would queue up two hours before flight time to ensure a seat. I don’t like to wait in line for anything, so I always wound up with a crappy middle seat in the back of the plane. To me, it wasn’t worth saving a few bucks when I couldn’t get a seat assignment. So I avoided Southwest in favor of other alternatives.

Recently, though, I’ve rediscovered Southwest — and I like what I’m seeing. Here are some of my observations.

The End of the Line

Southwest has finally come up with a reasonable way to handle seating that doesn’t require seat assignments (saving them money and effort) and doesn’t require waiting on long lines (saving passengers frustration).

Now, when you check in — preferably online — you get a boarding pass with a letter/number combination that indicates your boarding number. So, for example, someone quick to check in might be assigned B3 (as I was the other day). That means you’ll be the third person to board in the B group. Each group can have up to 60 (I think) people in it. The A group is special: its for people who bought more expensive tickets or paid for earlier boarding. It’s seldom full, so the beginning of the B group isn’t a bad place to be at all. In fact, on my most recent Southwest flight, with a B3 boarding pass, I nabbed a window seat in Row 4. Not too shabby.

Best of all, I didn’t have to pay extra for that seat. Most other airlines, these days, consider front-of-wing seats “premium” seats and can charge $25 or more extra for assignments there.

Line Up HereMy friend Jim didn’t understand how this numbering system could possibly work. I explained how Southwest uses queue-up areas with numbered posts or signs. When the A group is called, people sort themselves in order along these signs, using their boarding passes for reference. It’s all very orderly and civilized — no jostling for position because it’s pretty clear where each person should be in line. Then, after the first half of the group goes through the gate, the first half of the next group lines up. It’s amazingly efficient and I truly believe the plane loads faster.

Two Bags Fly Free

Free baggage check is another way Southwest saves me money.

Unfortunately, because Penny the Tiny Dog usually accompanies me on my trips, her travel bag counts as one of my carry-on items. My large travel purse counts as another. That’s two and that’s the limit on any airline. That means that unless I don’t have any luggage — which is rare — I always have to check at least one bag.

Most airlines usually charge $20 or $25 for the first bag and often up that amount to $40 or $50 for the second bag. (I usually just have one to check.) But Southwest allows you to check two bags for free. As you might imagine, there are reasonable limitations on size and weight — just like there are on other airlines. And if you happen to have a third bag to check, you’ll pay a hefty $75 to check it. But the two bag allowance saves me money.

Baggage Claim No Longer a Big Deal

I used to hate checking luggage, mostly because of the baggage claim ordeal. Simply said, I — and the person I was often with — didn’t like waiting for luggage.

But now that I fly with Penny, things are different. My first priority, on leaving the plane, is finding a place for Penny to do her business. That means exiting the terminal as quickly as possible, usually in search of a patch of grass. (Phoenix is a really dog-friendly airport; it has a fenced-in dog walk area at each of its three terminals.)

Once Penny has relieved herself, I’m free to go back into the terminal and retrieve my luggage. By that time, my bag is usually already on the carousel and the crowd is gone.

So thanks to Penny, baggage claim is no longer an ordeal at all.

Baggage Claim with Penny

It also saves room in the airplane cabin and speeds boarding. Why? Well, when an airlines charges for checked baggage, people try to save money by carrying on all their luggage. In fact, a passenger is more likely to carry on luggage than check it, so almost everyone on board has the maximum amount of luggage they can slip past a gate agent at boarding time. Big wheelie bags and other large items can be squeezed into the overhead compartments — so they are. Tons of them. This fills the available space quickly and, because they have to be stowed before a passenger can sit down, it requires boarding passengers to wait until each piece is stowed and the passenger gets into his seat.

Last-Minute Flights? Itinerary Changes? No Problem!

I think one of the best things about flying with Southwest is the ability to make changes to your itinerary without paying a penalty. This is extremely important for me these days, as I often need to make changes to existing flights or book last-minute travel.

Here’s an example. I recently booked a flight to Las Vegas about three days before my travel date. I got the same low fare I would have gotten if I’d booked it weeks in advance. Then, while in Vegas, I decided to travel to Sacramento instead of Phoenix. I got online and, with a few clicks, I was able to replace the Vegas to Phoenix flight with a Vegas to Sacramento flight. I was charged for the difference in cost between those two flights: $52.

Like most other airlines these days, Southwest makes it easy to book one-way travel. And because I don’t pay a extra for last-minute bookings, I can leave my travel plans wide open and decide where I want to go when I want to go. This freedom has made a huge difference in the way I travel, giving me opportunities to make spontaneous trips to visit friends and relatives whenever I like.

Don’t get me wrong — the fare category I book is still considered “non-refundable.” That means I can’t get my money back. But it doesn’t mean I can’t use that money to book other travel — without a fee. And with the craziness of my life these days, that’s a huge plus.

There’s an App for That

Airline Apps Ranked

Here’s a list of the airline-specific apps I’ve tried so far, ranked from best to worst.

  1. American Airlines – You can book travel, check flight status, check in, display a digital boarding pass at security and the gate, and see maps of many airport terminals.
  2. Alaska Air – You can check flight status, check in, and display a digital boarding pass at security and the gate.
  3. Southwest Air – You can book travel, change flights, check in, and check flight status.
  4. US Air – I found this app nearly useless and actually removed it from my iPhone and iPad. I can’t remember what it did.

Again, this is just an overview based on my limited experience. I think I should do a more detailed review and update this, possibly for a blog post in my upcoming travel blog.

Southwest, like some other airlines, has an iOS app (and likely an Android app, although I really don’t know for sure) for managing travel. In my experience with other airline apps, it’s neither the best nor the worst of the bunch. But it does allow me to do three important things:

  • Check in timely. As mentioned earlier, your seat on a Southwest Air plane is determined, in part, by the group and number assigned when you check in. The quicker you check in the better the group and number. Check in opens exactly 24 hours before a flight. I can use a reminder on my Calendar app to warn me when check in time is approaching. I can then use the Southwest app to check in exactly at that time. Sweet.
  • Book Travel. I can check fares and book flights from anywhere, right from my phone. This is extremely useful with my travel schedule; a computer isn’t always handy.
  • Change Flights. I can look for new flights and swap them into my itinerary, right from my phone. Again, this is extremely useful, given that I often make travel plan changes.

What the app doesn’t do, however, is create a scannable boarding pass that I can use at security or the gate. It seems that Southwest prefers to collect paper boarding passes at the gate. This isn’t a huge deal for me, since I normally have to check a bag anyway and a visit to the check-in counter (or curbside check in) is still required. I usually wind up getting a printed boarding pass there anyway.

Limited Food/Beverage Service

Admittedly, the longest Southwest flight I’ve ever been on was under 2 hours. And during those flights I never once saw a rolling service cart in the aisle.

Why? Because Southwest doesn’t offer a wide variety of food on its short flights. In fact, other than peanuts or pretzels — which are free with beverage service — it doesn’t offer any food. (Again, this might not be true of longer flights, which I haven’t experienced yet.)

Instead, once we complete the climb out on departure, a flight attendant walks down the aisle and takes drink orders. If you’re buying alcohol, she takes payment. Then, a while later, she comes back down the aisle with a tray and distributes the beverages she has orders for, along with a bag of peanuts or pretzels. Simple.

Why do I like this? Well, mostly because it keeps things simple. I seldom get out of my seat during a flight, so the presence (or absence) of a rolling cart doesn’t really affect me. But I like the quick and efficient way the flight attendants can get the job done.

If I want to snack on a plane, I always buy something to eat in the terminal before boarding anyway.

I’m Sold!

All together, these benefits really make it worth flying Southwest as often as possible. It’s now my first choice for airline travel — I just hope it flies to many of the destinations I need to visit.

A Weekend in Wenatchee, a Helicopter Flight Home

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Cramming a lot into three days.

Last weekend, I took Alaska Air/Horizon from Phoenix to Wenatchee, WA. I left on a Friday morning with the goal of being back in Wickenburg with my helicopter on Sunday night.

Friday: The Travel Day

Pilot Don
Don at the controls, over Peoria, AZ.

My day started early at Wickenburg Airport. My friend, Don, came to pick me up in his helicopter at about 8:30 AM. After topping off his tanks with fuel — which was cheaper at Wickenburg than his winter base in Deer Valley — we headed southeast.

Don is one of my good friends. Like me, he lives in Washington in the summer and Arizona in the winter. But unlike me, his main home is in Washington; mine is in Arizona. The past two winter seasons, we shared hangar space — at least part time — at Deer Valley Airport. That’s where we met. Don owns an R44 like mine but blue. He’s retired and likes any excuse to fly. On Friday morning, I was his excuse. He came up to Wickenburg, picked me up, and flew me down to Sky Harbor.

What most folks don’t know is that Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix has a public helipad on the top of the Terminal 3 parking structure. (Don’t believe me? Next time you’re at the airport, take your car up there to the roof and see for yourself.) The helipad doesn’t get much use. In fact, I’m willing to bet that Don is one of the top 10 users with me in the top 20 during the winter months. I blogged about the helipad here and here and even put a video online here.

Don Flies Away
Don’s departure to the north.

Don dropped me off with my limited luggage, waited until I was clear of the helipad, and flew away to the north. I had just two small bags: an overnight bag that contained primarily camera equipment and my Bose headset bag. My A20 headset had been repaired under warranty and shipped back to my Wickenburg home; I wanted to use it on my upcoming long distance flight.

I took the elevator down to the baggage claim level, went out to the curb, and waited for the airport shuttle bus. I was at Terminal 3 and needed to be at Terminal 2. If it wasn’t so damn hot out already — at 9 AM! — I would have walked it. Instead, I waited for the bus, consulting my watch every 30 seconds.

Fortunately, the security lines at Terminal 2 were short and they didn’t ask me to go through the naked x-ray machine — which I won’t go through. So I was walking to my gate with time to spare before my 10:20 AM flight. Enough time to get a shoeshine and spend most of my time in the chair helping the shoeshine guy attract his next customer.

Grand Canyon from Airliner
This is what the Grand Canyon looks like from an airliner. And yes, I’ll admit it: I actually took this photo on the way home from Seattle in September.

The flight was uneventful. The only item of note is the pilot or first officer who acted as a tour guide throughout various portions of the flight. I’ve never heard a pilot provide so much information about what was out the windows. We flew near or over the Grand Canyon, Bryce National Park, and, of course, the mountains south of Seattle: Rainier, St. Helens, Adams, Hood. I was on the right side of the plane and felt a surge of homesickness when I spotted the Columbia River basin near Quincy. I also caught sight of the smoke from the fires that were still burning between Wenatchee, Cashmere, and Ellensburg. The air over the Columbia, however, was much clearer than it had been on the day I’d left three weeks before.

At SeaTac, I needed to meet up with my co-pilot for the return trip, Ronnie. Ronnie is a pilot who used to live in Arizona but now lives in Colorado. She’s a flight instructor who mostly flies Schweizers these days, but she’s checked out and endorsed in R44s. I’d asked her to join me on the return flight to Phoenix because I was worried that I might be too tired to make the flight alone. I haven’t been sleeping well for the past few months and would likely be doing a lot of flying on Saturday, before our planned afternoon departure. Her flight landed right after mine. We texted back and forth and finally met up near her gate. We’d take the same flight together to Wenatchee.

We arrived in Wenatchee on time at about 3:30 PM. We walked to the general aviation terminal, where the truck I used all summer was parked and waiting for my return — with the luggage I’d packed three weeks before for my return trip. It started right up. We stowed our bags and drove it out onto the ramp. Then I peeled off the helicopter’s blade hail cover and cockpit cover and tossed them into the back of the truck. We unloaded all the gear I’d left in the helicopter and stowed it in the truck, moved the truck off the ramp, and went back out to the helicopter. I wanted to make sure it started — I hadn’t flown it in over three weeks — and top off the tanks with fuel. It seemed like a good idea to take Ronnie for a quick flight around the area.

I preflighted, we climbed aboard, and I primed the engine. When I pushed the starter button, the helicopter roared to life as if to say, “Where the hell have you been? Let’s go flying!” A few minutes later we were airborne, heading southwest.

I showed Ronnie the orchard I’d been based at for the end of the season and the now-empty RV pad my host had built for me near his home. Then we popped over Wenatchee Heights and headed out to Malaga. I showed her my friend Al’s winery and the 10 acres of view property I hope to buy in January for my new home. Then we crossed the river, hovered momentarily near the tasting room for Mike and Judy’s winery, and went in for landing at the pumps at Wenatchee Airport. As we were coming in, another helicopter pilot got on the radio and welcomed me back.

(I should mention here that I was supposed to stay in Washington until October. I’d been working on a video project for another one of my winemaker friends. In April, when I brought my RV up from Arizona, I’d videoed the bottling process. I was supposed to video the late September pick and crush at several of the wineries. But things back home had become so uncertain that I simply had to return to check things out. And although I had every intention of coming back to Washington to do the video work I planned, what I found at home convinced me to stay. Thus, I missed out not only on getting the video work done, but I also had to turn down at least a dozen charter flights and winery tours that probably would have been good for about $10K in revenue.)

We fueled up the helicopter and I repositioned it on the ramp. By that time, my friend Jim was about 20 minutes out with his helicopter. Jim also flies an R44. He’s based in Coeur d’Alene, ID and operates Big Country Helicopters there. Like me, he’s a cherry drying pilot. During the summer, we’d arranged to work together at the Wenatchee Wings and Wheels event at the airport on Saturday, October 6. We’d be doing helicopter rides for $35/person. Jim had brought along his wife and another ground crew person. Ronnie would also help out during the event.

Jim arrived and parked beside me on the ramp. We then set about stowing all the helicopter gear from the truck in the general aviation hangar so I could squeeze the five of us in the truck for the trip into Wenatchee.

We got rooms at the Coast Wenatchee Center Hotel, which was quite nice. Ronnie and I shared a room, not only to save a few dollars but because it was the last available room in the hotel. Jim had reservations; we didn’t. We were pretty lucky to find a room at all because of a big event going on in Leavenworth, about 20 miles away.

At the Rivertop
I think this sign says it all about the Rivertop Bar and Grill.

We had dinner at the Wok About Grill. Jim and I are still dieting; Mongolian Barbecue makes it easy for us to pick and choose exactly what we eat. Later, we went up to the top floor bar in our hotel for drinks. While we were there, a DJ came in, started playing a weird mix of music, and turned on one of those disco balls. We left before the Karaoke began.

Saturday: The Big Event

Of course, I slept like crap. It’s difficult to deal with insomnia when you’re sharing a room with someone else. There are limits to what you can do without waking the other person. I spent a lot of time reading and doing social networking on my iPad. By the time 6 AM rolled along, I’d had about four hours of sleep. I hopped in the shower, dressed, and put on some makeup. By that time, Ronnie was half awake. I left her at 7 AM with a promise to be back my 9:00 to take everyone back to the airport. I had things to do and people to see.

My first stop was up in Wenatchee Heights, at the house where I’d parked my RV in late August and early September. The house belonged to my friend Mike, who had agreed to store my motorcycle for the season in his garage. I needed to retrieve my Moitek video camera mount. I wanted to bring it back to Arizona with me so I could do video flights while I was home during the winter months. I unlocked the house and dragged the two Pelican cases to the garage door where the truck was parked and waiting. But I could not lift the larger of the two boxes by myself. I needed help.

So I called Steve, the next door neighbor. He’s building a garage with an apartment on top for retirement and he was there and awake. A while later, he was helping me lift the two boxes into the back of the truck.

Next, we needed to make sure that the truck fit in Steve’s garage. I’d made arrangements with him to store the truck there over the winter. His garage has three bays and solar heat. He’d graciously agreed to let me park the truck there, out of the elements. In return, I told him he could use the truck for any Home Depot runs he needed to do. After measuring the garage bay and the truck, I drove it in. It fit with about 3 feet of space to spare.

Steve gave me a cup of coffee and we chatted for a while. His upstairs apartment is coming along nicely. He’s a really nice guy — hell, all of the people I’ve met in Washington are really nice — and I really appreciated him helping me out with the truck.

Then I was off to my next meeting: a visit with Alex the Bird and the folks who have agreed to take her for the winter.

When I knew I had to leave early to check on things back home, I arranged with Leah and Freddy, who live on the orchard, to watch Alex the Bird. Even though I planned to return, I suspected that bringing Alex home with me would not be a good idea. It would complicate matters that were already likely out of control. So I asked them if they’d take her for the winter. Not only did they say yes, but they were excited about it. With two kids, a dog, and a cat, I knew their home would be a great environment for Alex. I also suspected that Alex would entertain them.

I rang the bell at 8 AM, as scheduled. Alex was in her cage in the kitchen where she could watch everything going on. She looked happy — but cautious — about seeing me. Our past year together — which included living in my husband’s Phoenix condo — had not been good. Alex hated the condo, maybe even more than I did. Not only was her space there dark with nothing going on to keep her entertained, but I spent long hours in my office, working on various books. Her winter molt had lasted far longer than it should have — an indication to me that she wasn’t happy. Even when we got back to Washington and she was staying in her favorite cage, I could tell that things were different with her.

In talking with Leah, I got the impression that she was happier with Leah’s family than she had been with me over the past year. It made me both happy and sad. And Leah was still enthusiastic about watching her. She told me about how much Alex kept them entertained. And she apologized about Alex learning the word “crap” from her son. I left them after a half-hour visit that included filling Leah in on what had gone on at home in the past three weeks. She, like everyone else, was extremely sympathetic and supportive.

I was back at the hotel at 9:15. Everyone climbed aboard and we headed up to the airport. The event was just beginning, starting with a pancake breakfast. We went out to the helicopters, removed the tie-downs, and preflighted. We already had several people waiting to fly. Because of the cold overnight temperatures, Jim needed a little help from the local mechanics to get his helicopter started. So I started up and started doing rides. I was just coming back from my second ride when Jim was spinning and ready to take on his passengers.

Waiting Passengers
The view from my seat as I waited for the ground crew to load passengers. The orrange-red plane in the photo is operated by the Spirit of Wenatchee. It’s a reproduction of the Miss Veedol, the plane Clyde Pangborn and Hugh
Herndon Jr. used to cross the Pacific Ocean in 1931.

We flew from 8:30 AM on. Our ground crew was excellent — no whining! Jim’s wife took the money and kept track of how many each of us flew. Ronnie did the safety briefings, using one of my safety briefing cards. Then Ronnie and Marshall loaded and unloaded the passengers. Jim and I worked hard to time the flight so only one of us was on the ground at a time. It was a constant flow of passengers for our 6- to 8-minute flights. The only time we stopped was for fuel: Jim first, then me a while later, and then Jim again.

Time flew. The event was supposed to end at 3 PM, but people were still lined up for flights. When Jim went for fuel around that time, I told him I’d keep flying until he was ready to fly again. Then Ronnie and I needed to leave. The plan was to top off the tanks, reload the gear, and get down to John Day Airport in Oregon before nightfall. But as time ticked on, that seemed less and less likely. Even when the tanks were topped off and we started loading our gear, I was doubtful about reaching John Day before dark. Sunset was just after 6 PM and it was already after 4 PM in Wenatchee.

Honey Crisp Rules!
The remaining apples, once I got them home. I’ve been eating them every day since and have given away a bunch more. Thanks, West!

Meanwhile, my favorite Wenatchee area client stopped by with a 40-pound box of Honey Crisp apples, picked only days before at one of the orchards we’d landed at quite often during the summer. I realized immediately that the box would take up too much space in the helicopter. So I gave away about half the apples to the mechanics at Wenatchee airport and to Jim and his crew, then cut the box down to half size to get the remaining 20 pounds home. The box was still a lot bigger than I needed it to be, but there was no way I was going to part with any more of those apples.

We struggled to get the Moitek boxes into the helicopter. Although we managed to get the big one in, it left very little room for the rest of the things we needed to take. I started getting stressed, probably because of the long day of flying and my general lack of sleep. I made two big decisions: (1) leave the Moitek behind and (2) start the flight home in the morning. Ronnie agreed.

In the meantime, Jim was just finishing up. He planned to fly back to Coeur d’Alene that night. It was about a 90-minute flight for him and he knew the area well. We repacked my helicopter and repositioned it for the night. Then we saw Jim and his party off and headed back up to Wenatchee Heights to store the Moitek back in Mike’s house.

Ronnie and I were both exhausted from the full day. We knew we’d have to leave Wenatchee very early in the morning to make it to Phoenix in time for Ronnie’s 5:55 PM flight to Denver. We got a room at an East Wenatchee hotel I’d stayed at before and tried to grab a quick meal in the restaurant behind it. Service sucked and we spent way too long there. Ronnie got a sandwich and I took the other half of my salad to go for the next day. We wouldn’t have time to stop for lunch; there would be in-flight meal service on our helicopter flight.

We were in bed and asleep by 9 PM.

Sunday: The Cross-Country Flight

It should come as no surprise that I slept like crap. I was up for hours in the middle of the night with my brain operating at light speed. My biggest worry: what was going on at home with me gone. My husband had become an irrational stranger over the summer and I honestly didn’t know what he was capable of anymore. Of course, I fell back to sleep around 4 AM. So when Ronnie’s alarm went off, it woke me up, too.

I grabbed a quick shower, dressed, and was ready to go within 30 minutes. It was still dark out with no sign of dawn when we got to the airport at 5:30 AM. It was cold, too. I’d dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and one of my Flying M Air denim shirts and a jacket and was still chilled. I preflighted with the help of a flashlight while Ronnie installed the dual controls. We lifted off at 5:50 AM as the sky began to brighten in the east.

Our Route
The actual track from our route, plotted on a map. The kinks in the route were to fly around restricted or otherwise controlled airspace.

We were going the most direct route, which should be about 9 hours of flight time. We needed three fuel stops: Burns, OR; Elko, NV; and Mesquite, NV. Although I wanted to land in Wickenburg and drive Ronnie to the airport, it didn’t look as if we’d have enough time to do that. I’d evaluate the situation when we got to Mesquite; I was prepared to land her at Sky Harbor, just as Don had done for me two days before.

Ronnie at the Controls
Ronnie at the controls over Oregon or maybe Nevada.

The sun came up when we were just south of Hanford. We crossed the Columbia River near Hermiston to voice the restricted area west of there. From there, it was a straight shot to Burns. Ronnie did most of the flying, but I landed us at Burns because I knew where the fuel island was. We got there in good time. The place was deserted, but fuel was self-serve. I had the grounding strap connected before the blades had even stopped spinning. I don’t think we were on the ground more than 15 minutes. Then we started up and took off to the next stop.

The stretch between Burns and Elko crosses over some of the most remote, empty desert I’ve ever flown over. In the spring, the area is home to many large herds of wild horses. But in the fall, with most of the grass gone, there isn’t much life at all. We didn’t see a single horse — and believe me, I looked.

Fall Foliage from the Air
Fall foliage near Elko, NV from the air.

Again, Ronnie did most of the flying. I had my Nikon out and took a few pictures. Just a few because I really hate photos with glare in them and it’s nearly impossible to get glare-free photos through Plexiglas. We saw some pockets of fall color along the way. In some areas, it was quite beautiful.

We landed at Elko, where they have a great FBO. The line guy fueled us from a truck while we went inside to use the restroom. I also bought some oil — I’d been adding at least a half-quart at each stop — and bottled water. We were on the ground less than 30 minutes. Then we were airborne again, continuing southeast. It was about 11 AM. We were doing excellent time.

We ate our lunches, one at a time, just after leaving Elko. Ronnie went first while I flew. Then I went. Yes: I admit that I stole a fork from the restaurant. We’d kept the food cold in a little cooler I’d left in the helicopter just for that purpose; my salad was even better the second day.

We may have been doing good time, but it wasn’t good enough to land at Wickenburg and drive to Phoenix. That became clear as we neared Mesquite, NV. Even though we were on the ground there less than 20 minutes, we had at least 2 hours of flight time ahead of us. While it might be possible to land and drive to Sky Harbor in time for Ronnie to make her flight to Denver, there wouldn’t be time to stow the helicopter in the hangar before that. And with things as weird as they were back in Wickenburg, there was no way I would leave my helicopter out in the open without keeping an eye on it.

We skirted around the Grand Canyon airspace south of Mesquite, listening to the tour pilots on the radio talking about reporting points we didn’t know. I made a few position calls in relation to Meadview. As we climbed over the cliffs near Grand Canyon West airport, just when I thought we were clear of the tour traffic, Ronnie spotted another helicopter a little too close to our location for comfort. The other pilot must have seen us, too, because he took evasive action before we could.

Later, near the Weaver Mountains, I took control from Ronnie again and gave her a low-level thrill ride through the canyons that led to Lake Pleasant. It’s something that I usually do alone, but since Ronnie had commented on canyon flying earlier in our flight, I thought I’d give her a taste of what I do when I know the terrain very well. I admit that I’m spoiled: being able to fly where I like is something that most pilots who work for someone else don’t get to do.

It was around 4 PM when I made my radio call to Phoenix Tower. Ronnie used her camera to video our approach and landing on the helipad. (She put it on Facebook but I think access is restricted to her friends.) She climbed out and grabbed her bags. I watched her clear the helipad, then called for departure and headed north to Deer Valley. I’d need to buy fuel to get back to Wickenburg.

I took a nice rest at Atlantic Aviation, had some cold water, and chatted with the girl working the desk. Although I’d been shedding layers of clothing on every stop, I was still wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt in 90+° weather. But I felt remarkably refreshed when I headed out for the final leg of my trip to Wickenburg. Once I cleared the subdivisions and the power lines near Lake Pleasant, I dropped down low over the desert, speeding northeast. It felt good to be back in familiar territory.

But I also felt sad. I knew my days in Arizona were numbered. How many more times would I cross that familiar stretch of desert between Phoenix and Wickenburg? I didn’t know. One thing is for sure: I’m determined to enjoy every single flight.

I touched down at Wickenburg at 5 PM. By 5:30 PM, the helicopter was secured back in its hangar and I was heading home.

We’d shattered my previous record for the flight, completing it in about 9 hours of total flight time.

Transponders for Dummies

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Get the facts straight.

One of the podcasts I listen to on my morning walk is called Stuff You Should Know. Produced by the folks responsible for the How Stuff Works website, Stuff You Should Know is a pretty thorough discussion of a specific topic by two hosts, Josh and Chuck, who base their discussion on a website article and some of their own research. It’s a great way to learn new things when you’re stuck doing something mindless — like walking, driving, flying, etc. So far, I’ve learned about revenge, diamonds, Atlantis, social security numbers, air traffic control (ATC), and bullfighting. You can find its RSS feed here.

The April 24, 2012 episode of the podcast was titled “How Air Traffic Control Works.” It was based on a How Stuff Works article of the same name by Dr. Craig Freudenrich. The article was very detailed; the podcast was based on that article and several other articles on How Stuff Works.

As a pilot, I know quite a bit about air traffic control — but not everything. The article (and podcast) was mostly concerned with ATC as it relates to airliners. After all, that’s how most people interact with aviation. But I’m involved with general aviation (as opposed to airline aviation or military aviation). And, as a helicopter pilot, I don’t interact with ATC nearly as much as, say, an instrument rated pilot flying a King Air from Phoenix to Seattle.

So I was hoping that I could learn something new. And I did.

But I also heard the podcasters misinforming listeners about transponders (among a few other things). And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s when an informational article or podcast or video — or anything else — includes errors. So I thought I’d set things straight.

What Is a Transponder?

Garmin Transponder
This is the Garmin 330 Transponder I have in my helicopter.

A transponder is a part of an aircraft’s avionics. It assists air traffic control by making it easier for ATC radar to “see” an aircraft. It basically sends out a signal that says “Here I am!” ATC radar can pick up this signal, along with any additional information encoded within it, to plot the aircraft as a “blip” on the radar display and differentiate it from other aircraft.

Transponders include a feature that enables the pilot to send a specific “squawk” code. Normally, in VFR (visual flight rules) flight, an aircraft’s transponder is set to send the code 1200 — in fact, this code is used so often that many transponder models — including mine — have a VFR button the pilot can press to quickly enter that code.

IFR (instrument flight rules) flights are assigned a discreet discrete squawk code. This code is used by ATC to identify that particular aircraft. Sometimes, when operating within tower-controlled airspace, ATC will assign a discreet discrete code to a VFR flight. Or perhaps a specific code is used by signatories to a letter of agreement between ATC and pilots — for example, 0400 is used by Sharp Alpha signatories in the Phoenix class bravo airspace.

Most transponders are equipped with automatic altitude reporting features, which is known as Mode C. Indeed, Mode C transponders are required within 30 miles of a class Bravo airport — think major airports like the kinds most airlines serve — and in a bunch of other places detailed in Part 4-1-20 of the Aeronautical Information Manual (AIM), “Transponder Operation.” (This, by the way, is an excellent resource for learning more about transponders in general.) Mode C transponders interface with an aircraft’s altimeter to get the altitude of the aircraft and send that information to ATC.

Garmin 420 GPS
My Mode S transponder interfaces with my Garmin 420 GPS to show traffic when information is available. I blogged about this here.

A Mode S transponder, which is what I have on my helicopter, is also capable of two-way communication with ATC radar. In certain radar coverage areas — primarily near Class Bravo and Class Charlie airspaces — a Mode S transponder receives traffic information from ATC. This information can then be plotted on compatible GPS equipment to create a simple traffic information system (TIS).

There are some other things about transponders that are interesting, including the fact that there are special squawk codes a pilot can use in certain emergency situations. And although the transponders were turned off on the 9/11 airliners, that didn’t make them invisible; it just made it impossible for ATC to definitively identify what they were.

What the Stuff You Should Know Guys Said

There’s no transcript available for the podcast, so I had to create one for the part that irked me. It was related to when the transponder is turned on and what the transponder is/does.

At 22:55, Josh has just described how the tower controller hands off the airplane to a departure controller.

Chuck: All right, so now we’re in the air, we are enroute. And you have to, if you’re a pilot, activate your transponder, which will basically make you the little blip on the radar. Very important thing to do.

Josh: Yeah.

Chuck: That’s how they can follow you as you move across the country. Or around the world.

Josh: [laughter]

Chuck: Right?

Josh: You are covering all bases on this episode.

Chuck: Well, the little blip is going to obviously represent your plane and it’s going to have your flight number, your altitude, your airspeed, and your destination.

Josh: Uh-huh.

Chuck: And, uh, so where are we now?

Josh: It’s also how they find you if you go plummeting into the ocean or the earth.

Chuck: Sure. Is that the black box?

Josh: Uh, I think that’s probably a part of the transponder.

Chuck: Okay. Yeah.

Then they continue talking about what TRACON does.

What’s Wrong

There are a few things wrong with this.

First, a pilot usually turns on the aircraft’s transponder when he (or she, of course) powers up the rest of the avionics, including the radio. On my helicopter, in fact, the transponder turns itself on automatically when I turn on the “Master Battery” switch, which provides electrical power to the helicopter before I even start it.

Part 4-1-20 of the Aeronautical Information Manual (AIM), “Transponder Operation,” states:

3. Civil and military transponders should be turned to the “on” or normal altitude reporting position prior to moving on the airport surface to ensure the aircraft is visible to ATC surveillance systems. IN ALL CASES, WHILE IN CONTROLLED AIRSPACE EACH PILOT OPERATING AN AIRCRAFT EQUIPPED WITH AN OPERABLE ATC TRANSPONDER MAINTAINED IN ACCORDANCE WITH 14 CFR SECTION 91.413 MUST OPERATE THE TRANSPONDER, INCLUDING MODE C IF INSTALLED, ON THE APPROPRIATE CODE OR AS ASSIGNED BY ATC. IN CLASS G AIRSPACE, THE TRANSPONDER SHOULD BE OPERATING WHILE AIRBORNE UNLESS OTHERWISE REQUESTED BY ATC.

(The FAA used those caps; I didn’t. I guess they wanted to shout about it.)

So the FAA says to turn on the transponder before you move the aircraft and keep it turned on during flight. The pilot does not wait until the flight is turned over to departure control to turn it on. It’s already on. In fact, it’s one of the ways ground control can track the airliner as it taxis between the runway and the gate.

Note: I was fortunate enough to be able to visit the Phoenix TRACON and tower back March 2012. I got to see the radar screens and their blips firsthand. It’s interesting to note that there are no windows in the TRACON facility. It’s a dark room filled with computer screens. If you’ve seen the movie Pushing Tin, which was mentioned in the podcast, you’ll get the idea.

So although the podcast guys made a big deal over the fact that ground controllers are only one of two kinds of controllers that can use binoculars, the reality is that only ground controllers and tower controllers have windows to look out of. They’re the only ones close enough to the airplanes they guide to actually see them.

To say that activating the transponder “makes you the little blip on the radar” is misleading. Radar does not need a transponder to see aircraft traffic. After all, do you think fighter planes use transponders when they’re out on patrol or attack? If a transponder was required to put an aircraft on radar, there would be no need for stealth technology. Instead, radar works by bouncing radio waves off objects. It doesn’t need a transponder signal. The transponder simply makes it easier for ATC radar equipment to find targets and provides additional information to ATC.

While it’s true that a radar blip might include an airliner’s flight number, this information is not sent by the transponder. The transponder sends the discrete squawk code assigned to the airplane from its flight plan. The ATC computer equipment looks up the code in the flight plan database and provides the information from the flight plan on the blip.

Josh is partially right when he says that the blip is how they find you if you crash. The transponder helps keep the aircraft on radar. Radar tracks where you are. But there comes a point — especially in remote or mountainous terrain — when radar coverage is limited. If you are flying too low, you can literally fly “below the radar” and not be tracked. Helicopter pilots commonly fly this low — that’s why its so difficult to get flight following in certain areas. An airliner should never be that low, but if it’s having trouble, it may disappear off radar before an actual crash. So although a transponder and the resulting radar blip can help locate a downed aircraft, it doesn’t guarantee that it’ll be found. Think about Steve Fossett. His plane likely had a transponder, yet he wasn’t found for well over a year after his crash.

Chuck and Josh are completely wrong when they suggest that the black box is part of the transponder. It’s not. They’re two completely separate devices. The transponder sends live information to ATC as an aircraft moves around on the ground and in the sky. Most aircraft have them. The black box is a virtually indestructible device that records data during an aircraft’s operation and stores it in the event of a mishap. Only aircraft providing certain air transportation services have them. For example, although I have a transponder on my helicopter, I don’t have a black box.

It’s interesting to me that the guys got this so wrong when the How Stuff Works website actually has an article called “How Black Boxes Work.” Maybe they should have read it?

Other Things

In listening again to parts of the podcast — mostly to find the passage quoted above — I heard other things that weren’t quite right. That bugs me. It calls into question the rest of the podcast — the stuff I don’t already know for sure. It also calls into question other podcasts that these guys do. How factual are they?

When I’m listening to a podcast titled “Stuff You Should Know,” I expect it to be factual, not conjectural. If these guys are guessing about something, they should make it clearer that it’s a guess. To state that a pilot activates a transponder after the aircraft is enroute and handed off to departure control is an incorrect statement of fact. To say “I think” a transponder is part of the black box helps identify it as conjecture or a guess, but is there really any place for guesses in a podcast like this?

Or am I expecting too much?

Taking a Stand Against the Full Body Backscatter X-Ray

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Stand up for our rights. You can make a difference.

Yesterday, when I went through security at Seattle-Tacoma Airport (SEA) for a flight to Wenatchee Pangborn Airport (EAT), I was one of four people in a five-minute period who opted for a pat-down rather than subject my body to the highly controversial full body scanner or backscatter x-ray machine.

BackscatterWikipedia image. (No, it’s not me. Sheesh.)

Because we had to wait while the TSA called screeners for each of us, we discussed why we’d made the decision. The four of us agreed that the use of backscatter x-ray technology for security screening was a violation of our privacy and constitutional rights. This “virtual strip search” is not only ineffective for revealing hazardous materials carried by determined terrorists, but it raises additional health concerns. Two of us were certain that the machine was hazardous — more on that in a moment — I’m not convinced either way.

All four of us had decided to make a stand against the use of the equipment by forcing the TSA to conduct a pat-down each time we were asked to go through the machine. This inconveniences the TSA far more than it inconveniences us. It only adds about 10 minutes to your screening time, but it forces the TSA to shuffle around staff, thus slowing down the whole security line. If enough people do this on a regular basis, the TSA will be forced to increase its staff to handle screening needs during busy times — or simply cease using the machines. After all, the normal metal detectors are still there and are used when the backscatter x-ray machines are down for maintenance. Why is it that they’re good enough at, say 5:10 to 5:30 PM one day but not good enough five minutes before or after that? It’s all bullshit, if you ask me.

One by one we were taken away for our pat-downs. Soon, it was just me and a man left chatting. He said he always gets the pat-down and is convinced that the machine is dangerous. I told him that I always ask for a private screening. This doubly inconveniences the TSA because it requires not only a private space, but two TSA screeners of the same gender: one to conduct the pat-down and another to observe — so you can’t cry foul, I suppose.

In addition, because they can’t separate you from your luggage, they must carry all your luggage and bins into the screening room with them. If you have a lot of stuff — think laptop, coat, belt, purse, briefcase, carryon bag, etc. — that could take more than one trip. You’re not allowed to touch it once you opt out so they’re forced to carry it for you to the screening room. One time, I had three of them tied up carrying my stuff around.

The man I was speaking to obviously liked the idea as much as I did and he opted for a private screening, too.

While a lot has been said about the obtrusiveness of pat-downs, having gone through it three times now, I can assure women that it isn’t a big deal. I didn’t feel violated or uncomfortable at any time. It’s just another woman wearing gloves patting you down. I’ve had seamstresses get more friendly when fitting me for a gown.

I try to make the situation more tolerable by chatting up the TSA women, teasing them gently, making sure they understand that I’m just opting for the pat-down to “get my money’s worth” out of the screening process. Occasionally, I’ll get one that admits the process isn’t effective or doesn’t make sense, but most times they’ll stop short of actually saying so. Yesterday, one of the women actually admitted that she thinks the backscatter x-ray machine is dangerous. Not only will she avoid it, but she’s told her mother not to go through it. Good to know that the TSA can’t even convince it’s own people about the safety and security of the system.

I usually mention the Israeli airport security system as an alternative method of screening. Often, they are familiar with it. Yesterday, one of the women said that they couldn’t use that system “because we’re not allowed to profile.” We both agreed that profiling should be allowed — at least to a certain extent. But rather than the kind of racial profiling Sheriff Joe uses to harass Hispanic people in the Phoenix area, airport profiling should look for signs of nervousness or other indicators that might suggest a person has something to hide. This is psychological profiling that requires extensive training and dedicated screeners. Unfortunately, members of the U.S. government would rather spend our tax dollars on sophisticated machines manufactured by their friends than useful training for TSA and other security agents.

As usual, yesterday’s pat-down was a non-event. I made my statement and was very pleased to see that I wasn’t the only one doing so. My only question is this: Why are most people acting like sheep, walking through a machine that displays nude images of them to strangers while dosing them with radiation?

The GOP and its propaganda arms (think Fox News and Rush Limbaugh) are constantly talking about government intrusion in our lives and violations of our constitutional rights, yet I don’t see any of them complaining about this complete disregard for privacy and Fourth Amendment rights. Why not?

Don’t they see that every time they introduce a measure like this, they’re subjecting us to more government intrusion and violating more of our rights?

I’m an American and I value my rights. Because of this, I arrive at the airport an extra 15 minutes early and do my part to protest the use of this ineffective, unnecessary, and possibly harmful intrusion of my privacy and violation of my rights.

If you care about your rights, you’ll do the same.

Why Are We Still Powering Down All Electronic Devices on Airliners?

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There’s no real reason for it.

A Twitter/Google+ friend of mine, Chris, linked to an article on the New York Times website today, “Fliers Still Must Turn Off Devices, but It’s Not Clear Why.” His comment on Google+ pretty much echoed my sentiments:

I do all my book reading on an iPad, and it’s annoying that I can’t read during the beginning and end of a flight, likely for no legitimate reason.

This blog post takes a logical look at the practice and the regulations behind it.

What the FAA Says

In most instances, when an airline flight crew tells you to turn off portable electronic devices — usually on takeoff and landing — they make a reference to FAA regulations. But exactly what are the regulations?

Fortunately, we can read them for ourselves. Indeed, the Times article links to the actual Federal Aviation Regulations (FAR) governing portable electronic devices on aircraft, 121.306. Here it is in its entirety:

121.306 Portable electronic devices.

(a) Except as provided in paragraph (b) of this section, no person may operate, nor may any operator or pilot in command of an aircraft allow the operation of, any portable electronic device on any U.S.-registered civil aircraft operating under this part.

(b) Paragraph (a) of this section does not apply to—

(1) Portable voice recorders;

(2) Hearing aids;

(3) Heart pacemakers;

(4) Electric shavers; or

(5) Any other portable electronic device that the part 119 certificate holder has determined will not cause interference with the navigation or communication system of the aircraft on which it is to be used.

(c) The determination required by paragraph (b)(5) of this section shall be made by that part 119 certificate holder operating the particular device to be used.

So what this is saying is that you can’t operate any portable electronic device that the aircraft operator — the airline, in this case — says you can’t. (Read carefully; a is the rule and b is the loophole.) You can, however, always operate portable voice recorders, hearing aids, heart pacemakers (good thing!), and electric shavers (?).

So is the FAA saying you can’t operate an iPad (or any other electronic device) on a flight? No. It’s the airline that says you can’t.

Interference with Navigation or Communication Systems

In reading this carefully, you might assume that the airline has determined that devices such as an iPad may cause interference with navigation or communication systems. After all, that’s the only reason the FAA offers them the authority to require these devices to be powered down.

But as the Times piece points out, a 2006 study by the Radio Technical Commission for Aeronautics found no evidence that these devices can or can’t interfere. Sounds to me like someone was avoiding responsibility for making a decision.

In the meantime, many portable electronic devices, including iPads, Kindles, and smart phones have “airplane mode” settings that prevent them from sending or receiving radio signals. If this is truly the case, it should be impossible for these devices to interfere with navigation or communication systems when in airplane mode. And if all you want to do with your device is read a downloaded book or play with an app that doesn’t require Internet access, there should be no reason why you couldn’t do so.

And can someone really make the argument that an electronic device in airplane mode emits more radio interference than a pacemaker or electric shaver?

And what about the airlines that now offer wi-fi connectivity during the flight? You can’t have your device in airplane mode to take advantage of that service. Surely that says something about the possibility of radio interference: there is none. Evidently, if you’re paying the airline to use their wi-fi, it’s okay.

What’s So Special about Takeoff and Landing?

Of course, since you are allowed to use these devices during the cruise portion of the flight, that begs the question: What’s so special about takeoff and landing?

As a pilot, I can assure you that the pilot’s workload is heavier during the takeoff and landing portions of the flight. There’s more precise flying involved as well as more communication with air traffic control (ATC) and a greater need to watch out for and avoid other aircraft.

But in an airliner, the pilots are locked in the cockpit up front, with very little possibility of distractions from the plane full of seat-belted passengers behind them — even if some of them are busy reading the latest suspense thriller or playing an intense game of Angry Birds.

Are the aircraft’s electronics working harder? I don’t think so.

Are they more susceptible to interference? I can’t see how they could be.

So unless I’m wrong on any of these points, I can’t see why the airlines claim that, for safety reasons, these devices need to be powered off during takeoff and landing.

It’s a Control Issue

I have my own theory on why airlines force you to power down your devices during takeoff and landing: They don’t want their flight attendants competing with electronic devices for your attention.

By telling you to stow all this stuff, there’s less of a chance of you missing an important announcement or instruction. Theoretically, if the aircraft encountered a problem and they needed to instruct passengers on what they should do, they might find it easier to get and keep your attention if you weren’t reading an ebook or listening to your iPod or playing Angry Birds. Theoretically. But there are two arguments against this, too:

  • You can get just as absorbed in a printed book (or maybe even that damn SkyMall catalog) as you could in an ebook.
  • If something were amiss, the actual flight/landing conditions and/or other screaming/praying/seatback-jumping passengers would likely get your attention.

But let’s face it: airlines want to boss you around. They want to make sure you follow their rules. So they play the “safety” card. They tell you their policies are for your safety. And they they throw around phrases like “FAA Regulations” to make it all seem like they’re just following someone else’s rules. But as we’ve seen, they have the authority to make the rule, so it all comes back to them.

And that’s the way they like it.

How Cell Phones Fit Into This Discussion

Cell phone use is a completely different issue. In the U.S., it isn’t the FAA that prohibits cell phone use on airborne aircraft — it’s the FCC. You can find the complete rule on that in FCC regulation 22.925, which states (in part):

22.925   Prohibition on airborne operation of cellular telephones.

Cellular telephones installed in or carried aboard airplanes, balloons or any other type of aircraft must not be operated while such aircraft are airborne (not touching the ground). When any aircraft leaves the ground, all cellular telephones on board that aircraft must be turned off.

There are reasons for this, but an analysis of whether or not they’re valid is beyond the scope of this discussion.

I just want to be able to read books on my iPad from the moment I settle into my airliner seat to the moment I leave it.