The Long Road Home

I make my way home from my winter travels, slowly but surely.

I’m writing this in my RV at a campsite in Maryhill State Park in Washington State. As I so often do when traveling through the area, I arrived late enough in the afternoon to stop for the night. Yes, home is only a 3-hour drive from here, but I don’t like driving at night. I have come to use Maryhill as a sort of post-trip celebration spot, a place I wind down from a long trip and start getting myself mentally prepared for my return to home.

As usual, the campground is nearly empty and I got a nice pull-through spot along the river. There’s electricity and a sewer dump at my site, but the water is still turned off for the winter. That’s okay; I filled up my fresh water tank in Las Vegas before I left and have plenty of water left.

Away from the Camper

Las Vegas is where I went after my helicopter mishap on February 24. My truck, camper, and boat were waiting there for me in a “storage” site at the Sam’s Town KOA. Although I generally avoid KOA camping, I really do like the one in Vegas for what it is: city camping. With my small rig, I can take one of the double-width sites along the edge of the campground property and not be right on top of my neighbor. I’d parked the boat beside the truck and camper before coming home in mid February to fetch the helicopter and take it down to California for a frost contract. I was able to plug in to power, which saved a ton of propane for the fridge, and the KOA folks charged only $15/day while I was gone. It was good to leave my stuff in a place I knew it would be safe.

The original idea was to go right back to Vegas after tucking the helicopter into a hangar at Yolo County Airport, but the weather in the Sacramento area turned cold and I wound up in a Woodland motel for a week in case I had to fly for frost control.

I spent my days goofing off, going as far as Calistoga for a mud bath and facial one day. (I am a sucker a good facial.) I managed to visit two wineries for tastings before heading back.

When I finally got to fly, the flight was very short with a bad end.

After being discharged from the hospital’s emergency room, my friend Sean took me to see the wreckage and we pulled out the last few personal possessions I had in there. (Sean had already collected quite a few things.) We stowed them in the hangar. Then I drove my rental car to Sacramento Airport, dropped it off, and waited in the terminal for a Southwest flight back to Vegas. With no helicopter or frost contract, there was no reason to stay in Woodland.

In Las Vegas

I was back in my RV by 6 PM. As you might imagine, I had a little trouble getting to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see those damn trees in front of me. But putting the TV on seemed to help. And I eventually got a decent night sleep.

I took a full inventory of my bruises the next morning in the shower. That day — Sunday — is when the soreness really kicked in. I later learned that the helicopter impacted the ground at least twice before coming to rest against a small berm in the field where I crashed. I must have been like a rag doll in there with my muscles all tensed up from the adrenaline rush. (I don’t remember any of it, but without a head injury, I don’t think I passed out. It’s just blank.) Once my muscles relaxed a little, every single one of them got sore. The ibuprofen I was taking took the edge off.

I started the active part of my day by repositioning my truck, camper, and boat to a site on the south side of the RV park. It was a nice site with grass behind it — which is good since the camper’s door is in back. I hooked everything up — electricity, water, and sewer — since I’d be staying for the week.

I went to the convention center to meet up with my friend Zac from HAI (Helicopter Association International). The show wasn’t open yet, but he was in charge of guiding the helicopters in to land in the Convention Center parking lot. From there, they were wheeled into the building to be put on display. He got me an exhibitor pass so I could come in for a behind the scenes look at the show getting set up. Later, I joined him outside to watch (and broadcast on Periscope) a few of the helicopters that came in. It was fascinating and a lot of fun, but the walking really took a toll on me. By 5 PM, I was spent.

Show Girl
Eve didn’t like the location of the booth so she hired a model to attract attention to it during the show.

On Monday, I helped my friend’s Jim and Eve, who own Rotorcraft Enterprises, set up their booth at the show. Jim invented Start Pac, a battery device for helping to start turbine engines. He has since branched off into a bunch of other related products, including an APU for jets, a Start Pac for locomotive engines, and small battery devices to provide power when testing avionics on an aircraft. Jim’s a great guy — a former airline pilot who started flying helicopters in retirement. Like me, he lived in Wickenburg and left. I’m sure I’ve written about him elsewhere in this blog.

By the time we’d finished setting up, I was spent (again), but I went with them to lunch at a German restaurant near their office. Eating a good meal really picked me up. But I still went right back to the RV to relax. I slept a lot better that night.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were spent at Heli Expo. I chatted with Pat Cox and Tim Tucker at Robinson to tell them about the crash and show pictures. They were very interested and even dragged Kurt Robinson over to see them. They were certain that the helicopter’s bladder tanks, which I’d whined about installing, had saved my life. I talked to the folks at Hillsboro Aviation, which had sold me my R44 back in 2004, about a new helicopter; I’m still waiting for a price quote but seriously doubt I’ll replace it with a new one. (They’re a lot more expensive now!) I walked the entire show floor and found a neat video solution for tours and YouTube videos; I might take the plunge and get a setup this summer. I met up with numerous friends, including one of the few people who had flown my helicopter without me on board and my first flight instructor, who now works for the FAA. I also walked the show floor early one morning, before it was open to the public, to get some really great photos of some of the helicopters there without people hanging all over them. I posted them all to Twitter.

The MD Booth
There’s nothing quite like walking a trade show floor before the public is let in. This is a panorama of the MD Helicopter’s booth on Thursday morning.

I treated myself to dinner at the MGM grand on Wednesday evening before heading back to my camper. And I took a break from the show at midday on Thursday to treat myself to a cocktail and lunch at the Wynn resort. So much of my traveling this winter has been low budget, so it was nice to get a few doses of luxury.

A Parisol Down
I sat along the pond at the Wynn’s Parasol Down cocktail lounge. It was a nice, peaceful escape from the Heli Expo show.

On Thursday afternoon, the show closed promptly at 4 PM. By 4:15, they were wheeling helicopters out the door. I joined my friend Zac again with Jim and another Start Pac employee tagging along to watch the departures. I broadcast on Persicope and they featured the video so I soon had hundreds of viewers. I think a total of 10 helicopters left. The rest would leave the following day. Zac invited me back but I’d had enough.

Leaving Las Vegas

The next morning I had breakfast at nearby Sam’s Town Casino, then packed up leisurely and was on the road by 10 AM. It was wicked windy out as I headed down I-15 toward Los Angeles.

Camping at Lake Isabella
My campsite on the shore of Lake Isabella.

Although I usually drive through Death Valley on my way to Sacramento with my rig, I decided to take a more southern route this time, hoping to avoid snow in the mountain passes near Lake Tahoe. I was aiming for Lake Isabella, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. I arrived about a hour before sunset and got a nice campsite right on the lake.

Lake Isabella at Dawn
I shot this from my camper’s back door at dawn at Lake Isabella. It was an amazingly beautiful morning.

The following morning, I was back on the road. I think it was then that I realized how much I just wanted to be done traveling. So I made my way out of the mountains and joined route 99 north. I took that all the way to Sacramento, then hopped on I-80 to Davis.

In California Again

I stopped at the same hospital I’d been in the week before and checked myself into the ER. A number of friends had suggested that blood clots could be an issue. The bruises on my lower legs were horrendous with a few painful spots. Although I no longer needed ibuprofen for pain, I was starting to wonder whether I had a bigger problem than just bruises.

I stayed for about two hours. They did blood work and used ultrasound to scan my legs for clots. I got a clean bill of health but the doctor suggested that I get it checked again in a week.

I spent the night camped out at the hangar at Yolo County Airport. I parked right next to it. Around 2 AM, Sean arrived and sat in his car, waiting for a call to fly. I didn’t realize he was there until I woke at 4 AM. It was foggy out and the ASOS (Automated Surface Observation System) was reporting freezing fog. Even if he got a call, he couldn’t fly.

The fog was still thick when the sun rose. I got dressed for the day and went into the hangar to organize my personal possessions from the helicopter. I packed them in my truck for the ride home and said goodbye to Sean. I would not be back next year for a frost contract, but there’s a chance he’ll join me in Washington for cherry season this year.

The fog was localized; there was none north of Woodland.

I tried to retrieve my cockpit cover from the salvage guy, but it was Sunday and his place was closed.

I drove up to Williams to have lunch with another pilot fired of mine who was on a frost contract up there. I tolerated his mansplaining about how he finds his orchards in the dark. I deserved the lecture. But, at the same time, it didn’t really matter. I changed the subject.

I thought I might need to meet with the insurance adjuster and Sacramento FAA guy, but they didn’t need to meet with me. That meant I had no reason to stay in the area. So I left. I hopped on I-5, set the cruise control for 62, and headed north.

In Oregon

I tried hard to get to the Seven Feathers Casino in Oregon. Casinos make excellent overnight spots for RVers. They have big parking lots and good security. And being able to go in for dinner or breakfast the next morning is a real plus. But as the sun was getting close to setting, Seven Feathers was still about a hundred miles away and, like I said, I don’t like driving at night. (Besides, I suspect the boat trailer’s running lights aren’t working, although I know the turn signals and brake lights are.) So I wound up in a Walmart parking lot in Medford with about a dozen other RVers.

I walked over to the Outback Steakhouse and treated myself to a blooming onion, which I used to really like. They’re a lot greasier than I remember; I only ate about 1/3 of it.

The next morning, I was back on the road as soon as the sun was up and the overnight frost started to melt. Someone on Twitter had mentioned that the I-5 corridor was IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) and he wasn’t kidding. I drove for two hours through big patches of fog.

My first destination was McMinville Airport where a 2005 R44 was for sale. I had an appointment to meet with the owner at 11 AM. It was a 4-hour drive from Medford and I was a little late because I had to stop for fuel. I saw the helicopter, which is only a few months newer than mine was and it looked fine — but not like mine inside. I still haven’t decided if I’ll put an offer in on it.

From there, I drove another hour north to an Apple Store in Tigard. I had a heck of a time finding parking — the store was in one of those modern outdoor malls designed to look like a downtown area. Nice place and I would have loved to spend the day shopping there, but I had a mission. I needed to buy a new iMac. The one I have at home, which is now 7-1/2 years old, refuses to start. It had been on the fritz for about a year, but it’s now dead. I think it’s a logic board or possible a video card problem. It doesn’t matter. I’m replacing it.

I wound up with a 27-inch iMac. I had to wait while they expanded the RAM from 8 GB to 16 GB. I had lunch at PF Changs while I waited. I ate too much. There was a bit of a challenge getting the computer out to my truck, but the Apple Store folks were helpful. Then I was on my way again.

I hit some early rush hour traffic in Portland — by this time, it was about 3:45 — before getting on I-84 eastbound. This is a really pretty drive along the Columbia River in Oregon, past numerous waterfalls in the Gorge area. I tried two state park campgrounds along the way but both were “closed for winter.” I knew Maryhill would be open. I stopped for fuel one last time in Biggs, OR, then crossed the river and pulled into the site I am in now.

I fed Penny but skipped dinner; I was still full from lunch.

Today’s Drive

The sun is now up, illuminating the basalt cliffs west of the park. The wind turbines up there are glowing bright white but are motionless in the still air. The frost on the ground is just starting to melt. My camper is warm; the small electric heater I brought along has been running all night. My next door neighbors pulled out a few minutes ago; we’ll leave in less than an hour.

Campground View
The view out my back door this morning. Note the frost on my boat cover and grass.

It’s an easy drive up route 97 to I-90 near Ellensburg. From there, I’ll head east to Vantage, cross the river, and come up back roads from George through Quincy to Wenatchee. I might stop at Fred Meyer for groceries to save myself a trip later on.

My house sitter left last night so I’ll have my home to myself. The cats will come out to greet us. I’ll collect this morning’s eggs.

And then I’ll go inside and run the water for a nice, hot bath.

There’s no place like home.

Postcards: An Unusual Rental Car

When I realized last weekend that I’d have to spend at least five days in Woodland, CA on active standby for my frost contract, I shopped around for a car rental. (My truck and camper are waiting for me in Las Vegas; long story there.) As I always do when renting a car, I picked the cheapest car they had to offer, which turned out to be a “Ford Fiesta or Similar” at $228/week. Not a great deal, but the best I could find.

A friend took me to Sacramento Airport to pick it up around midday on Saturday. I waited on a short line. When I got to the counter and handed over my ID and credit card, the guy at the counter looked at me and asked, “Just you?”

I assumed he wanted to know if there was a second driver. “Just me,” I replied.

“Would you mind taking a Camaro for the same price?”

I don’t think I’ve ever driven a Camaro. And I didn’t even know Chevy still made them. I figured it was a watered down version of the 1980s muscle car, but at least it was something different. I told him that was fine and we finished up my paperwork.

To my surprise, the car isn’t watered down at all. It’s a 2018 Camaro SS with less than 10,000 miles on it. I haven’t popped the hood, but the engine growls when revved and its performance isn’t the least bit disappointing. The car looks hot, sounds powerful, and goes fast.

Camaro SS

I guess the car rental guy thought it would be safe in the hands of a middle aged woman. Joke’s on him.

Although I don’t really like the car and would never consider buying one — terrible visibility, tiny windows, coffin-like feeling — I do admit that I’m having fun with it. After driving my truck for the past 2+ months, it’s nice to be in something sporty. I’ll have it until Saturday and will likely take it on at least one road trip to either Napa or San Francisco (or both) between now and then.

Postcards: The Sundial Bridge

My 2017/18 snowbirding vacation is officially over. Last week, Penny and hopped on a commercial flight home, took care of a bunch of chores my housesitter couldn’t do, and enjoyed the little of home luxuries like full-time electricity, a spacious shower, and a dishwasher. On Thursday morning, we climbed into my helicopter and made the first two of three legs of my annual migration to the Sacramento area for a frost control contract. The destination was Redding, CA, where the helicopter was stripped down for its annual inspection by the folks at Air Shasta.

While the helicopter was getting work done, I did some exploring. Friday found us at Turtle Bay, which is a park along the Sacramento River. There’s a kids museum there and access to miles of riverfront bike and walking trails. And the Sundial Bridge.

The Sundial Bridge is a neat little single-tower pedestrian suspension bridge over the Sacramento River. Cables from the tower, which looks like the vertical part of a sundial, collect to the bridge’s deck. It has translucent glass panels in the floor that offer a somewhat ghostly view to the river below; this walkway is set aglow at night by lighting under the bridge.

Sundial Bridge over the Sacramento River in Redding, CA.

The tower at the Sundial Bridge.

Deck of the Sundial Bridge.

Sundial Bridge deck at night.

Although I didn’t think it was a real sundial, this Wikipedia entry has informed me that it actually is; the Tower is oriented due north and there are places to read the time on the north side.

Penny and I spent about 2 hours in the area, walking on the trails and stopping for something to drink at the museum store there. The place was hopping, with plenty of pedestrians, bikers, and dog walkers. Later, when I realized we’d need a second night stay in the area, I checked into the Sheraton hotel there for a little hotel luxury; that’s when I was able to get the nighttime shot.

Snowbirding 2018 Postcards: The Blythe Intaglios

Out in the desert north of Blythe, CA, not far from the Colorado River, ancient native people cleared away the dark colored rock on the surface of flat plateaus to reveal the light colored gravel beneath it. In doing this, they “drew” a number of figures and designs. These are the Blythe Intaglios.

I’m staying in Quartzsite, AZ this month, about 35 minutes from the site. I’ve flown over it with my helicopter a handful of times starting at least 15 years ago. This time, I had a different aircraft with me, my Mavic Pro drone. I headed out about an hour before dawn to capture the site in first light.

As you might imagine, at 6:30 AM local time on a Monday morning, there wasn’t a crowd. In fact, other than a motor home that had obviously been parked overnight near the main road, I was the only one there. I got out with Penny and moved to the back of the truck to set up the drone with my iPad. I tried in vain to set up the Mavic for a live broadcast via Periscope, but the lowest quality image setting on the Mavic are still too high for Periscope and it just didn’t work. So I reset the video camera to 1080p — I seldom bother with 4K because my computer is too old and feeble to handle it — and launched.

In the east, the sun was struggling to get through some low, thin clouds. I should have waited, but I know from experience that sometimes waiting yields worse light. There was enough to see so I shot several flyby videos of all three fenced-in Intaglio areas. I think I flew for about 12-15 minutes before landing in the truck bed and downloading two of the videos to my iPad.

That’s when the light got good. I shut off the drone, popped out the battery, and snapped in a fresh one, then started up again I launched quickly and got the two shots you see here, along with a few others and some more flybys. This is exactly what I wanted: the figures in the foreground with the rugged desert mountains illuminated by the rising sun off in the distance. I flew for another 15 minutes or so.

The lower site has two fenced-off areas protecting three Intaglios. Can you see my truck in the photo?

Blythe Intaglios at first light.

The upper site has just one figure inside a fence. I suspect that due to the condition of the road (bumpy) and the fact that you really can’t see the figures from the ground, it has fewer visitors.

Blythe Intaglios with mountains in the distance.

The site is protected now, but should have been protected earlier, like in the 1970s when vandals added the tire tracks. The fences were added in the 1980s.

The site is on BLM land and is free to visit 24/7/365.

Snowbirding 2018 Postcards: Camping at the Holtville Hot Spring LTVA

The Holtsville Hot Spring in Southern California is a BLM — that’s Bureau of Land Management — managed property just off of I-8 east of Holtville. The property features a maintained hot spring with two soaking tubs and a hot shower, a 14 day free camping area, and a long-term visitor area (LTVA) where camping is available for $40 for two weeks or $180 for the entire season.

I arrived here on Thursday with my friend Janet and we camped out for the night in the free 14 day area. We had a nice soak in the hot tub the following morning and then Janet departed for Yuma and Quartzsite. I stayed behind. I decided that I wanted to spend a few days in the area and I splurged for the $40, 2-week camping permit. I can use the remaining time next week at another LTVA in California or Arizona.

The main benefit to camping in the area north of the freeway is that it is easier to access the hot spring via a hard-packed dirt road that I can take my bicycle on. The sites are spread apart and because there are some trees in the area, there’s a certain level of privacy. The farther away you go from the hot spring and freeway, the quieter it is and the fewer campers are around you. I’m about half a mile away and can’t really hear the freeway at all.

The folks who stay in places like this are serious about off the grid camping. Just about every single rig out here is equipped with at least one solar panel. I have yet to hear a generator running. There are no power, water, or sewer hook ups or even a dumping station. The only luxury convenience is a set of dumpsters so you can get rid of your trash. I noticed more than a few folks filling up gallon sized jugs at the hot spring from a hose that’s provided just for that purpose; I’d like to think that they wash with this water and don’t actually drink it.

Almost all of my fellow campers are retirees and I estimate that at least half of them live on the road full-time. The types of campers range from slide in truck campers like mine to luxury Class A motorhomes pulling cargo trailers or cars. More than a few people have motorcycles or ATVs. People are friendly and often stop to chat while walking or biking by with their dogs.

I sent the Mavic up for picture of my campsite today. Here’s one that gives you a good idea of the area around me.

This photo faces south on an overcast, hazy day. Normally, you’d be able to see mountains in Mexico, which is only 6 or 7 miles away. If you’re wondering why I didn’t back all the way into the campsite, it’s because there are a lot of soft, sandy spots that I could get stuck in. Because I’m only staying here a few days and because I can use my bicycle to ride between my campsite and the hot spring, I didn’t bother taking the camper off the truck. I did, however, lower the legs to steady it so it wouldn’t rock so when I’m inside. The photo makes the place look kind of dreary but I think it’s today’s overcast skies more than anything else. The weather has been in the 70s every day, dropping to the 40s at night. This is the first overcast day I’ve had in over a week, but there’s still enough solar radiation to charge the camper’s batteries.