Tag Archives: California

A Trip to a Beekeeper’s “Candy Store”

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I visit the California location of Mann Lake, Ltd.

If you’re a beekeeper in the U.S., you’ve undoubtably heard of Mann Lake, Ltd. They’re a major mail order supplier of beekeeping equipment for hobbyists and professionals. They have quality merchandise, fair prices, satisfactory delivery times, and free shipping for orders over $100 — which is pretty easy to reach, especially when you’re first starting out.

Mann Lake’s website is an odd combination of printed catalog pages reproduced page-by-page coupled with a back end database that makes searching possible. It’s not my favorite shopping interface, but it does work. It works best, though, if you have a copy of the printed catalog and can just enter item numbers to order. The printed catalog is a great reference guide, too, with lots of information about each product and plenty of pictures. (You can get one for free by filling in this form.)

Mann Lake is based in Hackensack, MN — a place I’m not likely to ever see. (Actually, Minnesota is the only state in the U.S. that I’ve never been to; don’t see that changing any time soon.)

Somehow, not long after I began shopping for beekeeping supplies last May, I discovered that Mann Lake had a Woodland, CA location. This really bummed me out — I’d spent a bit of time near Woodland just a few months before and, had I known I’d be a beekeeper soon, I would have stopped in to see what they had. Although I didn’t realize it then, I’d soon be back in the Woodland area on another contract.

And that’s where I am now.

So yesterday, my first full day based in this area, I drove over to the Mann Lake California location at 500 Santa Anita Drive. (Yes, it’s true. I went from being a computer nerd to a beekeeping nerd in only a few short years.)

Mann Lake's CA Location
Mann Lake’s CA location is in an industrial park; it’s mostly warehouse.

From the outside, the place didn’t look very exciting. The parking area out front was completely empty. But when I walked inside, I think my jaw must have dropped. Every single item in their extensive catalog was fully assembled and on display in neatly organized aisles.

Inside Mann Lake
Frames and foundations

Inside Mann Lake
Covers and bottoms.

Inside Mann Lake
Hive bodies.

Kid in a candy store, is the phrase that came to mind. I felt like a crazy tourist taking pictures, but I have some beekeeping friends who would really appreciate seeing what I’d seen.

I walked up and down the aisles, seeing firsthand all the equipment I’d seen in their catalog. While some of it wasn’t a big deal — after all, if you’ve seen one standard Langstroth hive body, you’ve seen them all — other items were great to see and touch: propolis collectors, queen cages, honey extractors.

When a sales guy — who turned out to be the sales manager — asked if I needed any help, I asked him to show me the pollen collectors. I wanted an easy solution but apparently there isn’t any. Still, I got to see how the commonly used pollen traps work. The catalog doesn’t really make it obvious.

I wound up buying a frame puller — which I’ve been wanting for a while — and a few other odds and ends that wouldn’t add up to the $100 amount I’d need for free shipping anyway. The sales manager checked out my purchase and looked me up in the computer system and offered to apply my “bee bucks” to the purchase, saving me $25. Sweet!

It was a good experience and I’m sure I’ll be back before I head home. After all, I was crazy enough to bring my beehives with me on this trip and I’m sure I’ll need one or two more things as they enjoy the early spring and start strengthening their hives. Who knows? I might even be ready to extract some honey before I leave.

Oh, and if you’re wondering why Mann Lake chose this location for their California warehouse/store, I can guess. Woodland is near the heart of California’s almond country. My 5,000 or so bees, just recovering from a northwest winter, are only a handful of the 31 billion bees from all over the country that are here right now.

Frost Control

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I get a job but no experience.

In February, I got my first contract for a frost-control job in the Sacramento Valley of California. It was a 60-day contract and it only recently ended.

Frost control work is similar to cherry drying, but the contract — at least my contract — was very different. And this year, it offered no opportunity to fly and very little profit.

The Goal

Almond Trees in Full Bloom
These almond trees in one of my orchards are in full bloom. As you can see, they’re quite beautiful — especially when you see hundreds of acres of them. The contract starts right around this time.

The goal of frost control flying is to grab the warm air above the orchard in thermal inversion situations and suck it down into the trees. My client tells me that you can only do this for about 3 hours before the warm air is depleted.

As the almonds (or walnuts, if you’re doing them) are forming, they’re gelatinous and very susceptible to damage from frost. Each degree below 30° can knock off a significant percentage of the crop. This is serious business — serious enough to have enough helicopters on hand to protect the developing nuts.

My client hired 17 helicopters of various makes and models to protect its orchards this season. I was just one of them, positioned in Woodland, CA.

About the Flying

Like cherry drying, which I’ve done every summer for the past five seasons and hope to do again this summer (if I ever get out of Arizona), frost requires you to fly low-level over trees. But there are a few major differences:

  • Frost control flying is usually done at night. This means flying in the dark, although a flight could last until just after dawn. Let’s face it: cold weather comes at night, with the coldest weather just before dawn. (More on that in a moment.)
  • Frost control flying is usually done higher than cherry drying. My client told me approximately where he wanted me to fly, but also said that I needed to check my outside air temperature (OAT) gauge to make sure I was in the warmer air above the trees. This means anywhere from 20 to 50 feet off the ground.
  • Frost control flying is usually done faster than cherry drying. Again, my client advised me to operate at a speed of about 20 to 30 miles per hour. That’s right at ETL in my ship, which would make for an interesting flight. (I can’t remember any prolonged flying right at ETL.)

And if you’re a helicopter pilot, you probably realize that this altitude and airspeed combination still puts the aircraft right, smack dab in the middle of the deadman’s curve.

Flying in the Dark

But flying in the deadman’s curve doesn’t really bother me. I’m used to it. What does bother me, however, is flying in the dark.

Note that I didn’t say flying at night. I said flying in the dark. There’s a difference.

First of all, you need to understand that these orchards are in farm country. Some of them are huge, stretching across a section (square mile) of land. The only things in the orchard are usually the trees. Trees don’t need lights at night so there aren’t any. So the orchards are naturally dark at night.

When there’s any kind of moon, it really isn’t that dark. In fact, when the trees are in bloom and there’s a moon, you can see the trees from quite a distance up. It’s actually quite beautiful when there’s enough moonlight to see them.

But when there’s no moon — which is basically more than half the month (considering that flight is normally conducted between the hours of 3 AM to 7 AM) — everything is dark. Pitch black dark. And that’s where the real challenge is.

You see, the entire area is criss-crossed with power lines — the big “Bonnevilles” and smaller lines going to homes and shops. If you’re lucky enough to not have wires in your orchards — which I was — you still have to worry about the wires on the way to your orchard. So you’re flying at least 500 feet up to avoid the possibility of hitting wires.

You use a GPS to get to your orchard. When you think you’re right over it, you look down and, if there’s no moon, you don’t see anything except a black hole. You wonder whether the coordinates are for the center of the orchard or one corner. If a corner, which one? And how close are you really to those coordinates? You’re wondering this while you’re flying over the orchard, knowing you have to get way down there, just over the trees that you can’t see, and knowing that if you’re not where you think you might be, you could also be over or near wires you can’t see and you might descend down into them.

Even if you know exactly where you are, you can’t simply descend straight down into the orchard from 500 feet above it. Doing so would put you in serious risk of settling with power. So you have to spiral down into it, making sure that you’re remaining clear of wires that could be in the area. With luck, you’ll see the trees before you hit them.

My Test Runs

Before actually flying a mission, a friend and I went out on a test run with me at the controls. We looked for one of my orchards that I knew had wires along one edge, Bonnevilles nearby, and a huge unlighted windmill less than a mile away. I went to the coordinates and looked down. There was moonlight and I thought I could see a patch of trees. I began my spiraling descent and doubt creeped into my mind. Were those trees? The shape wasn’t right. I realized that I was looking at a small lake near the orchard and couldn’t remember where it was in relation to the orchard. I realized that the windmill was near the lake. Knowing that I wasn’t where I thought I was, I aborted the descent. My friend was with me on that decision.

We tried my other orchard, which had a more regular shape. I got into position over it and began my descent. I could see the flowers on the trees in the moonlight. But when I got within 100 feet of them, my landing light flashed on wires where I didn’t think there were any. Was I over the right orchard? If I wasn’t, I had no idea where wires could be. Again, I aborted the descent.

I was seriously concerned about my ability to get the job done. My friend was even worse, suggesting that it wasn’t possible without lighting from the ground. When I pointed out that other pilots had been doing it for years, he couldn’t argue.

Trail Tracker for iPad
One of my orchards consisted of four separate irregularly shaped fields. There were wires along the northeast side, running to the house. Note the ponds to the south; the windmill is southwest of the orchard, out of the image.

The next day, I downloaded an app called Trail Tracker for my iPad. This app creates a track log as you travel. I drove out to each of the orchards, turned the app on, and drove around the entire orchard. This created a blue track line that surrounded the orchard.

Later that day, I hopped into the helicopter with the iPad mounted in it stand. I then flew out to the orchards, one at a time, with the tracking software displaying the orchard’s outline. A GPS marker indicated my position on the map, although there was a bit of a time lag. I was able to see on the iPad where I was in relation to the orchard.

The next night, we went out again. This time, my friend flew his helicopter and I was a passenger. We flew out to my odd-shaped orchard first and were able to successfully descend down over the trees while knowing exactly where we were in the dark. While we were in flight, I also noted nearby lights that would give me visual references at night — the farmhouse on the east side was a good source of light and there was another at a shop up the road to the orchard (not shown in this image). We also flew all the way up to Williams to check out my friend’s orchards. We were able to find them and descend over the trees. He made a note of lights in the area, too.

So by approaching it with more information, we were able to get a bit more comfortable about the task we’d be called to perform.

But did I like it? Hell no! As I told another friend after I returned home the next day, this would be some of the most dangerous flying I’d ever do. I was not looking forward to it at all.

About My Contract

Unfortunately, my frost control contract was very different from a cherry drying contract. Although the helicopter was required to be onsite for the duration of the contract, I was not. I could go on with the day-to-day living of my life with two exceptions:

  • I couldn’t fly my helicopter because it was positioned in California. This made it impossible to accept flying jobs anywhere else. And since I didn’t advertise my availability where the helicopter was based in California, I didn’t book any flying work for the duration of the contract.
  • I could be called at any time to get on active standby. Once called, I’d pretty much have to drop everything and head out to California to prep the helicopter and wait until I was launched.

Because I wasn’t required to be with the helicopter, the standby money was considerably less than I’d get with a cherry drying contract. Like 25% of that amount. Ouch. I actually couldn’t afford to stay with the helicopter. My living expenses would be too high.

The contract did, however, provide additional revenue when I was called out and when I was on active standby. I was called out for two consecutive days. The callout and standby fees easily covered the cost of hopping on a Southwest Airlines flight from Phoenix to Sacramento and hanging around for two days.

But the temperatures never got low enough to launch me. I was there with the helicopter, the helicopter was fueled and ready to fly, but I didn’t need to fly.

That was early in the contract. I wasn’t called out again.

Later, my client told me that it was the warmest spring he’d ever been through.

Devore Aviation Lights
Devore Aviation’s Forward Facing Recognition Floodlight System consists of LED lights mounted on the two front skid legs. The lights and installation were very costly, but I might get some use out of them during cherry season.

In all, it was a break-even gig for me. The standby money covered the cost of getting special lights installed on the helicopter and repositioning the helicopter to California and back to base. The callout and standby fees covered my living expenses for the few days I was in Woodland with the helicopter.

Would I Do It Again?

In all honesty, I’m not sure I’d do this again.

I certainly would not do it again with the same contract in place. I’d much prefer a contract more similar to a cherry drying contract with higher standby fees, even if the contract required me to stay in Woodland for the entire contract term. Woodland is a nice little farm town very close to Sacramento and not far from Sonoma Valley; I think I’d really enjoy spending two months there — especially with the days free to do what I like.

But it really all depends upon the demand for my services in the Wenatchee area, where I’ll be living as soon as I can get out of Arizona. While cherry drying season doesn’t usually start for me until June, I might be able to get other flying work if I were in Washington with the aircraft before then.

It’s a decision I’ll have to make next year.

A California Thanksgiving with Friends

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Something different, something fun.

As Thanksgiving approached this year, I was faced with the prospect of not having anyone to spend it with for the first time in my life.

Past Thanksgivings

When I was a kid, it was a big family event that often involved my grandparents, aunt and uncle, and cousins. I can remember more than a few Thanksgiving dinners in the tiny dining room of our house in Cresskill, NJ. For at least part of that time, the dining room table was a pool table with a piece of plywood on top and a nice linen tablecloth on top of that. (Not quite Beverly Hillbillies.) I distinctly remember being able to fool around with the pool balls while siting at the table. Of course, my grandmother always insisted on taking photos of the table all set with my mom’s best china. And a closeup of the turkey before carving. I wonder where all those photos are today?

Later, after Mike and I began living together, we’d occasionally host Thanksgiving dinner at our Harrington Park, NJ house. It was a big deal for everyone to travel out our way — most of his family and even some of mine were in New York and had to deal with the horrendous traffic. But we tried hard to make it worth the drive. Thanksgiving 1996Thanksgiving 1996 was probably the best ever. By that point, we’d discovered the U.S. Southwest and were in love with it. I’d gotten a cookbook filled with southwest recipes and we decided to make the entire meal from it. I whipped up a fancy menu with funky fonts and southwest style borders and printed it out for our guests’ reference. Mike set up our dining room table to seat all 14 guests together. I don’t know quite how we pulled it off, but we managed to serve every single dish piping hot. It was the absolute best Thanksgiving dinner I ever had and I’m so proud to have been one of the two people who prepared it. I still occasionally make more than a few items from that menu. (I would have made some this year, but the cookbook was already packed.)

My FamilyLater, when we moved to Arizona, we didn’t spend many Thanksgivings with family — although I do recall my mom, stepdad, sister, brother, and sister in law coming out to stay with us for Thanksgiving 2004. That was the first — and I believe only — time that I got to use my good china for a big dinner. My mom had been buying me place settings over the years and I added a few right before they arrived so we had enough to go around. I don’t remember the dinner itself being that special, but I do recall the trip to Torrance, CA, that my sister, brother, and sister-in-law made a few days before to tour the Robinson Helicopter factory. Assembly LineOddly enough, that’s the day they put the shell of my helicopter on the assembly line. And, of course, the visit also gave us the opportunity to get a group photo outside, in front of our house.

Other Thanksgivings in our Wickenburg home included friends who weren’t fortunate enough to have someone else to spend Thanksgiving with. I remember one Thanksgiving when we invited a friend, his girlfriend, and his dad to join us for dinner. I think it was just the five of us, but our guest brought a dozen bottles of wine. No, we didn’t drink them all — but it sure was a fun meal.

Howard Mesa KitchenIn later years, once our camping shed at Howard Mesa was fully set up for simple living, we had Thanksgiving there at least once, in 2008. It was a bit of a challenge preparing a large meal in the tiny kitchen and we had to be sure to buy a turkey small enough to fit in the apartment-sized oven. I’d planned to make mango chutney (in addition to cranberries with Mike’s mom’s recipe) but had forgotten to bring the mangos. So I used the same recipe to make apple chutney with the apples we’d brought along. Not a bad substitution. It was a quiet Thanksgiving with just the two of us and our dog, Jack. The horses, Jake and Cherokee, roamed around outside. And the sunset was beautiful.
Howard Mesa Sunset

Dealing with the Prospect of Having Thanksgiving Alone

Although I’d hoped to have the divorce settled long before Thanksgiving so I could get on with my life, by October, I realized that was not going to happen. Apparently, my soon-to-be ex-husband and I had different ideas of what the word “fair” meant. So I slowed down on my high-speed packing and prepared to stay, probably through Christmas (and maybe as long as through March). And that’s when I realized that I might not have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with.

I was going to be like one of those unfortunate people that we’d taken in for Thanksgiving in the past.

All of my friends without family in the area were traveling. Some were skipping dinner altogether. As the day came closer and closer, it seemed more and more likely that I’d have Thanksgiving dinner alone — just me and Penny the Tiny Dog. At first, I was okay with that — after all, I’d lived mostly alone every summer for the past five years. And I’d spent plenty of time alone when my soon-to-be ex was spending weeks in New Jersey or weekdays in Phoenix. But for some reason, Thanksgiving was different.

I realized that it bugged me that I’d be alone on Thanksgiving for the first time in my entire life — especially after 29 consecutive years spending it with the man who would be spending his day with my replacement instead of me.

The emotional pain from that realization was fierce.

Meanwhile, I’d gotten two Thanksgiving invitations that required travel. One was to my brother’s house in New Jersey. I really didn’t want to take that long trip for such a short stay. The other was to my friends Rod and Liz’s house in Georgetown, CA. I gave the situation a lot of thought. And on the Monday before Thanksgiving, I finally decided and bought my round-trip tickets for Sacramento.

Flying Commercial with Penny the Tiny Dog

I’d planned a six-day trip, arriving on Wednesday before Thanksgiving and departing on Monday, after the holiday crowd had gone home. I decided to keep things simple and pack a big bag, which I would check. I’d carry Penny on board in her travel box.

Penny in a BoxPenny is an excellent flyer. Not only is she perfectly at ease in any seat — front or back — of the helicopter, but she doesn’t mind curling up for a nap in her travel box when its tucked away under the seat in front of me on an airliner.

I usually keep her on her leash until just before boarding time. We’ll walk through the terminal and she’ll wait patiently while I grab a latte. Then we’ll hang out by the gate until they start boarding. Everyone loves her — she’s cute and funny to watch, especially when she’s playing with her toys. When we’re ready to board, I’ll coax her — admittedly, sometimes forcefully — into her box and close the door. Then we get in line, board the plane, and I tuck her under the seat. I don’t usually even check on her in flight. She really does just curl up and go to sleep.

When we get off the plane, I carry her out in her box and then get her on her leash as soon as we’re clear of the crowds getting off the plane. Occasionally, after a long flight, she finds a place in the terminal to take a leak or a poop. You can’t really blame her — it’s not as if they have restrooms for dogs. (SEATAC has a pet area that is so stinky, even Penny wouldn’t go in.) I’m prepared for that eventuality with paper shop towels and poop bags, so it isn’t a huge deal. Arriving from Phoenix in Sacramento was accident-free. While waiting for my luggage, I took her outside to a grassy area where she was able to take care of business before my friends arrived to pick us up.

In case you’re wondering, the airlines do charge a fee for carry-on pets. Alaska Airlines charges $100 each way; US AIrways, which is what I took to Sacramento, charges $125 each way. The pet case counts as your carry-on bag, so unless you travel very light, you’ll likely have to spend another $25 to check your bag, too. I think this is outrageous. In fact, Penny’s return fare cost more than my seat on the plane for that flight. According to the check-in folks, I could buy a seat for her. I suspect that’s bullshit, but I’ll try on our next trip.

Although I prefer a mid-sized dog — I sorely miss my border collie, Charlie, and his border collie/Australian shepherd mix predecessor, Jack — I admit that it’s a lot easier to travel with a tiny dog. And she really does seem to like to travel with me. A real adventurer!

Our California Stay

The weather was just clearing out when I arrived — low clouds after some morning rain were burning off. The weather turned perfect and stayed that way straight through our departure on Monday.

My friends picked us up in their old but meticulously maintained Land Rover and whisked us away for a late breakfast. It was great to see them and we talked about all kinds of things. I brought them up to date on the divorce bullshit, even though I’d purposely neglected to read the latest correspondence from opposing counsel. (I didn’t want more bullshit to ruin my weekend and it turned out to be an excellent decision.) Then we climbed back into the car where Penny was waited and headed up to Georgetown, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

Rod and Liz live in a great little house on a big piece of land south of Georgetown. Georgetown is a tiny town with even fewer services than Wickenburg, so they do most of their shopping and dining out in either Placerville or Auburn. Their area is quiet and the huge front lawn — which, by the way, is large enough to land a helicopter on — is shielded from the main road by a barrier of tall trees and a creek.

Zoe and PennyThey’d done a lot of work to their house since my last visit and the guest room was completely redone and very comfortable. I set up camp in there for me and Penny. Penny, in the meantime, got to meet their dogs: Emma (a pit bull), Bentley (a hound), and Zoe (a border collie). Of the three, Bentley is the oldest and wasn’t very interested in his tiny house guest. Emma wasn’t really, either. But Zoe and Penny soon became fast friends, sharing the few toys I’d brought along for Penny. Whenever we just hung around the house, they’d play together. In the evenings, when Zoe stretched out on her big bed, Penny would curl up beside her.

Red TreeAutumn was in full swing in the Georgetown area and trees were turning color everywhere. The best I saw, however, was right in my friend’s front yard: a small maple tree brilliant with shades of red and orange. Every morning, the sun would come through the other trees, sprinkling this little tree with splotches of golden light. Day after day, I pulled out my camera, attempting to capture the glorious colors. I think this shot came out the best.

We had Thanksgiving Dinner at Liz’s mom’s house. She lives in a 55+ park in Placerville. A friend of hers had made the stuffing and she’d started the turkey. When we arrived in the afternoon, Liz made a few other things and put the finishing touches on what had already been prepared or started. A friend of Liz’s mom, John, joined us and we had a nice dinner for five around her dining table with the four dogs lounging around the little house and Liz’s mom’s cat hiding out in a bedroom. The food was good and, as you might expect, I ate a lot more than I should have. (I fully expected to gain a few pounds during this trip because of the sheer quantity of food I ate and was pleasantly surprised when the scale at home on Tuesday morning registered roughly what it had a week before.)

We spent the next few days just getting out and around in the area.

On Friday, Rod and Liz needed to run some errands down in the Folsom area, so we took the Land Rover down. We had lunch at the excellent Sutter Street Grill in Folsom, which serves breakfast all day. I had a great omelet and took half home for the next day. We fetched Penny out of the car and walked around town. I bought a[nother] scarf — blue with fish on it — and let Liz treat me to some gelato. We made our way back to the car, past a skating rink full of kids. It was a great place, a great day. I felt really alive to be out and about in a new place with friends.

Rod and Liz

Maria and Penny

On Saturday, we went for a short hike close to their home. It was a nice spot, with several creeks coming together on their way to the American River. Although most of the leaves were gone, it was pleasant to be in the woods, especially after months in the Arizona desert. There was a little bridge across the creek and we took the opportunity to take photos of each other. Here’s Rod and Liz in one shot and me and Penny in the other.

On Saturday night, we were invited a burn party at a friend’s house. Let me explain. In this area, folks have lots of trees and brush. To get rid of this stuff, they burn it. They’re allowed to do this with a permit on certain days and under certain conditions. Unfortunately, our host discovered after inviting everyone that she wasn’t allowed to burn that day. But the party went on anyway, on the back patio of a wonderful little rental house she owns on the American River. There was a fireplace back there and we kept feeding it logs. Lots of food: shrimp cocktail, sausages, salads, dips, and chips. Our host was a part owner of a 100+ year old winery in either Napa or Sonoma valley (I can’t remember which) and served up the best cabernet and zinfandel (no, not the pink kind), making me feel a bit embarrassed about bringing along some of the white wine from Washington that my husband had left behind in our house. Later, when the fire was good and hot, we took turns roasting marshmallows. I was thrilled when our host offered me a bottle of her winery’s award-winning Zinfandel to take home. (I’m saving it to share it with someone special who will really appreciate it.)

Fire Good Roasting Marshmallows

Sutters Mill MapOn Sunday, Rod took us in his Volkswagen Thing for a more strenuous hike without the dogs. We started near the site of Sutter’s Mill — where the California Gold Rush began in 1849, in case you’re not familiar with this bit of history — and hiked up the trail in the Marshall Gold Discover State History Park. The trail was steep and Rod set a good, fast pace that had me huffing and puffing. Funny, but in my fat days, I never would have been able to keep up. On that day I worked up a good sweat but never really lagged behind. At the top of the mountain were some nice view points. We found a picnic area and stopped for a rest and a snack. That’s where I set up my camera and timer for a fun shot of our three heads between two tree boughs and a few more portraits.

Three Heads are Better than One Rod and Liz

Walnut TreeAfterward, we headed down to where Liz works, the Wakamatsu Tea and Silk Colony Farm. This interesting historic site is the location of the first Japanese settlement in the United States. It’s also where the first child to Japanese immigrants was born and the site of the first Japanese immigrant’s death. Today, the farm has trails, the gravesite, and other farm buildings more recent to the area. We walked among the black walnut trees, picking up and munching on walnuts that had fallen from the trees. I’d never had fresh walnuts before and really enjoyed the experience. We hiked past a big pond, followed by the farm dog who bugged Rod to throw sticks for him. We went as far as the gravesite before turning around and going back to the car. The moon had risen in the east and flocks of Canada Geese were flying.

Moon and Geese

We took it easy on Monday morning. I helped Liz clean up some debris from a tree removal job while Rod took his other Land Rover down to Placerville to get something checked on it. By the time he got back, I was packed up and ready to go. We made a leisurely trip down to Sacramento, stopping for lunch at the excellent Newcastle Produce for a sandwich and other treats. Liz bought a big bag of seedless mandarin oranges and gave me 8 of them to take home. (I shared three of them with my seat mates on the flight home.)

We said goodbye at the airport and I admit that I was very sad to go. It had been a great weekend with friends, doing lots of fun, new things.

My New Life: It’s All about Getting Out and Experiencing New Things

I feel, in a way, that I missed out on a lot of things over the past few years of my life.

Over the past few years, I was stuck in a rut with someone who either couldn’t or didn’t want to get out more. Although I felt that something wasn’t quite right during those years, I now realize that I felt sort of “trapped,” with most of my time spent either at the cavelike Phoenix condo or at our Wickenburg home. Day trips with my “life partner” were only possible on weekends, and even that was limited to places we had already been. He used all of his vacation time traveling back east to be with his family — people who never made me feel welcome or comfortable. More often than not, especially in the last year of our relationship, I felt as if my presence and desire to get out and do different things was an inconvenience to him.

He solved the problem for me, although the way he did it was neither kind nor honorable. That’s something his conscience needs to deal with — if he still has a conscience.

In the meantime, I’m making a special effort to get out more and do more things. The past three months have been among the most active in my entire life, with several trips out of state to visit friends as well as lots of day trips with new people.

But among all the things I’ve done recently, this Thanksgiving trip was the best. Many thanks for Rod and Liz for making me feel so welcome and keeping me busy!

Pelicans

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Absolutely prehistoric looking.

Back early in May, I finished up a week in Ventura, CA, where was I updating my Twitter course for Lynda.com. Although Twitter’s feature set didn’t change much since I recorded the second version of course in April 2010, the interface has. The course really needed an update to bring it back into sync with the way the service looks. It should be published shortly. If you have any interest in Twitter, I hope you’ll check it out.

A Backstory

High-Flying PelicanThe folks at Lynda.com put authors up in an area hotel. The first few times I came out here, they put me in a Holiday Inn Express near Ventura Harbor. I really liked my room, which was on the first floor with big windows overlooking the marina. There was a lot of life there — people walking, birds flying, boats, dogs, joggers.

Then, a little over a year ago, they switched to a hotel in Oxnard. Admittedly, it was a nicer facility with better accommodations for us. The rooms were little L-shaped suites roughly the same size as the Holiday Inn’s, but more modern and upscale. And the Internet service was about 5000% better. (Okay, so maybe I exaggerate, but it was better.)

Trouble is, it also lacked everything I liked about the Ventura Harbor place. The place was condo-like, with square 2-story buildings, each having eight units. The windows were small. There were balconies, but no reason to sit on them — and no furniture to sit on. The place was heavily wooded and it seemed dark and dank, like an unpleasant rainforest that was constantly shedding leaves and branches all over the property.

So on this last trip, I asked to stay at the Holiday Inn again. And the nice folks at Lynda.com booked my room there.

The Pelicans

High-Flying PelicanWhich brings me to the pelicans.

It’s odd that I don’t remember them, but they must have been here all along. They fly over the marina every evening, scouting the water between the boats for fish foolish enough to swim close to the surface. When the see their prey, they tuck their wings and dive, landing in the water with a great splash. They bob to the surface, often busy swallowing a fish.

Pelicans are absolutely prehistoric looking. I mean seriously — what other bird looks more like a pterodactyl?

I spent one afternoon after work walking around the marina, settling down in a spot where I could wait to photograph them. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring the appropriate equipment. All I had with me was my 16-85mm lens, which is a great multi-purpose lens but a pretty crappy lens for photographing wildlife. My 70-300mm lens was home. So was my monopod and my tripods.

Pelican Over WaterIn other words, I wasn’t properly equipped.

Still, I made the best of it. What you see here are among my best shots, taken late in the afternoon as the sun was sinking low on the horizon. One thing I learned that afternoon is that pelicans don’t like to dive when someone is standing nearby with a camera. Ah, if only I had my long lens and monopod! Next trip. (If you’re a Lynda.com subscriber, please do give my courses lots of positive feedback so I can some back and record more; next time, I’ll bring that lens.)

The shots here are the best I took that afternoon. Please pardon the ugly watermark, but I’m really sick of seeing my work on other people’s websites without attribution.

Enjoy.

Photo Flying, Job Shuffling, Helicopter Rides, Travel, and More

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Yes, I’m still alive and kicking.

In case regular readers are wondering whether I’ve fallen off the face of the earth, the answer is no, I haven’t.

My life has been non-stop craziness since the third week in September and I’ve simply been too busy to blog. That’s not to say I don’t have anything to blog about — I do! I just can’t find a 2-hour block of time to get some good content out of my head and into this blog. This status report will have to do for now.

Aerial Photo Flights at Lake Powell

The thing that started all this craziness was the aerial photo gig I had at Lake Powell. I was there for two weeks, but the last five days were the busiest. I did 14 individual aerial photo flights, each lasting between one and two hours.

I didn’t think it could ever happen, but by the end of the third day, I was actually getting tired of flying over that beautiful lake. It wasn’t until the last two photo shoots that I started really enjoying it again. I flew with a local photographer, Gary Ladd, who directed me to show him the lake and surrounding area in ways I’d never seen it. He brought the magic back. You can see some photos taken during the two flights by Rebecca Wilks, my client for those flights, at Skyline Images. I’m hoping Rebecca lets me share some of her work on the Flying M Air Web site.

That whole gig ended with a 2.2 hour flight from Lake Powell to Deer Valley. The first half of the flight was very pleasant, including the stop for breakfast at Marble Canyon Lodge. But once we got down off the Colorado Plateau southwest of Sedona, the heat and turbulence made the flight very unpleasant. My passenger, Rebecca, was likely on the verge of being ill for some of that time; I was certainly not feeling very good either. Landing at DVT was my return home after being away since May 15, ending four whole months on the road.

Two New Jobs

Back in July and August, when I had no writing work lined up, I started putting irons on the fire. The economy might be scary for people with jobs, but it’s terrifying for freelancers when there’s nothing on the calendar. I started discussions with two different publishers, feeling I had about a 50-50 chance of getting either job.

The good news: I got them both.

The bad news: They had the same deadline.

I worked my butt off for my first full week home, trying hard to deliver content for both of them. I realized that they’d either think I was lazy or incompetent. This was not a good thing, since one of the contracts was a brand new relationship with a publisher I hope to do more work for.

I confessed to both of my editors. I was surprised — and very happy — about how understanding they were.

Now I’m at Lynda.com‘s offices in Ventura, finishing up one of those projects. On Sunday, when I return, I’ll be back at my desk, cranking out new chapters for the other project, a brand new book. I expect to be working on it daily for the next three weeks.

Helicopter Rides

I do helicopter rides every year at the Congress Days event in Congress, AZ. It’s a very small event, but it gathers quite a local crowd. I make the rides cheap enough for anyone to afford them. This year, they were $25 per person, down from $30 per person last year.

This year, the rides gig fell on October 2, which was this past Saturday. Despite my crazy busy schedule, I showed up as planned and did a bunch of rides in 95°F weather. This particular event is extremely blog-worthy due to the challenging flying conditions and I definitely will be blogging about it when I get some time. I just need to assemble some more visual aids. It’s a good lesson in high density altitude flying.

Phoenix to Santa Barbara by Way of Bakersfield

My flight to Santa Barbara (to go to Ventura this week) was a bit of an adventure. The marine layer was in at midday and the glide slope at Santa Barbara was broken. On the attempted landing, the pilot was able to get down to 500 feet (the decision height) and not see the runway. I got a glimpse of the ground through the clouds before he hit the throttles and we ascended back through the clouds.

There was no second try. He flew us to Bakersfield where we were let off the plane in a terminal with a closed Subway restaurant. When the United Airlines flight to Santa Barbara also landed there, they hired a bus to take us to Santa Barbara.

I hate buses.

When a fellow passenger rented a mini-van for a one-way drive to Santa Barbara, I was one of five other people who joined her. The $130 rental plus $20 fuel purchase came out to $25/person and I’m certain that we beat the bus by at least two hours.

So instead of arriving at my hotel by 2 PM, I rolled up after 7 PM after an adventure with five strangers.

That’s worth a blog post on its own, but I’m allowing the memory to fade and don’t want to bring it back by writing about it.

Ventura and Beyond

So here I am in my hotel in Oxnard, CA, right near the border of Ventura. It’s 6:40 AM. At 7:30 AM, I’ll be in a soundproof booth, recording my words of wisdom and mouse clicks for another new course. I’m not sure if I can talk about it yet, but you’ll hear about it soon enough. I’m happy to be here, despite the clouds and rain.

Once I get home, I’ll get back on my regular schedule of blogging. I need to blog. If I don’t write here at least four or five times a week, I get a little crazy. So just have some patience and I’ll do the best I can.