The Roads of Howard Mesa

Yet another expensive auto repair.

Our place at Howard Mesa Ranch is on top of the mesa, five miles from pavement.

When we bought our place from the original sales organization, the roads, although unpaved, were in pristine condition. I never saw a grader at work there, but the roads were always smooth and wide. Our sales guy, Larry, took us around in his old Buick sedan. That was six years ago.

Although Mike and I never expected the roads to be kept in that same great condition, we expected them to be kept in passable condition. Certainly by a Jeep or 4WD pickup truck — even while towing horses or a camping trailer. Hopefully by a sedan if driven carefully in dry conditions.

Flash forward several years. Road maintenance dollars, divvied out by the Property Owners’ Association, goes to the people who complain the most — who also happen to be the people who live closest to pavement. One of them whines that his road needs to be maintained so construction vehicles can reach his lot. One of those vehicles gets stuck and the POA pays to have it towed out. Dollars that should be spread around evenly on the roads that service all owners are laid on thick on the south end near Highway 64.

July 2004. I was living in a trailer on our Howard Mesa lot, working at Papillon at the Grand Canyon. I drove my Jeep down from the top of the mesa early in the morning to get to work by 7 AM. I hit a pothole in the road hard and instantly hear the sound of air hissing from the tire. I was still two miles from pavement and managed to get a mile closer before the tire was completely flat. Another property owner helped change the tire. The damaged tire could not be repaired. Replacement cost: $152.

August 2004. I’d flown to work that day in my old R22 helicopter, but storms in the area convinced me to leave the helicopter at the airport and drive home. My 1987 Toyota MR-2 was at the airport. I’d driven it on many occasions to and from our lot. But that day would be different. On that day, I’d get stuck in the mud two miles from my gate. I walked to my trailer in the drizzling rain, still in my uniform, as the sky darkened around me. A shortcut through a field got scary when I heard coyotes howling nearby and realized that I had nothing to protect myself from them. No damage to the car; just inconvenience. I came back two days later when the ground was dry and managed to make it the rest of the way to my lot.

October 2004. I take my Toyota to get an oil change. The quick lube place refuses to do the job. The oil pan is smashed in and they’re afraid they won’t get the plug back in after they remove it. The oil pan, which was obviously damaged while driving at Howard Mesa, has to be replaced — I don’t take the car off pavement anywhere else. Total cost $312.

May 2005. Mike and I bring our horse trailer with living quarters back up to our lot for the summer season. Erosion has narrowed the road in places. The 35-foot long trailer slips into a ditch on the driver’s side, smashing the valve for the black water holding tank. We get it back on the road. It then slips into a ditch on the passenger side, smashing the step to the trailer door. Total cost: $268.

May 2005. The next day. Mike and I take his truck on the other road that climbs up to our side of the mesa to see if it’s any better. It isn’t. It’s worse. The 4WD truck slides into a deep, mud-filled ditch. Another property owner tries to pull us out with his Jeep when our truck’s 4WD low setting doesn’t do the trick. The truck is stuck fast in the muck. AAA refuses to send someone to tow us out. We pay a local tow company to do the job. Total cost $250.

We make a lot of noise at the POA annual meeting. It wakes up the POA decision makers. They finally start spending some money on road maintenance on our part of the “ranch.” They grade the state road and spread cinders in the most slippery spots. They put in culverts. But the money runs out before the job can be finished. The road is much better, but has a few very tough spots to negotiate, spots where tire placement can mean the difference between clearing the ground and bottoming out. Yet last week the cinder truck spread cinders on a perfectly smooth road that is never even used. Could it be because there are two lots are for sale on it and the owners wanted the road to look “maintained”? That road is only about a mile from pavement.

July 2006. Today. MIke has driven up for the weekend in his Honda Accord. He’s driven very slowly, very carefully. But he still bottoms out once on his way down this morning. The oil trail starts about a mile short of pavement. His car’s oil light went on three miles south of the Howard Mesa turnoff on Route 64. The oil pan is so torn up that Mike can stick his finger in it. Total cost: unknown so far. But the tow to Williams was $89, the rental trailer to bring the car from Williams to a Honda dealer in Flagstaff was $64, the rental car so he could get to work tomorrow was $86. He missed work today. The cost of the oil pan and replacement labor will probably exceed $300.

[August 1 Update: The Honda’s engine damage was severe and the engine needed to be replaced. Thank heaven it was covered by insurance. It would have cost thousands of dollars.]

It struck me today that we spend more on repairs to our vehicles due to road conditions than we do on property taxes, POA dues, and even hauled water combined. What’s wrong with this picture?

There are a lot of lots for sale at Howard Mesa Ranch. If you’re thinking of buying one, be sure you talk to the POA about maintenance on the road to your lot first.

Then, if you do buy, go out and get a high clearance 4WD vehicle. You’ll need it.

[composed on top of a mesa in the middle of nowhere with ecto]

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

We watch the Mets wipe the floor with the Diamondbacks.

Mike bought the tickets months ago. I didn’t expect to be around when it was time for the game. But when a book project dragged out and cherry drying fell through, I found myself still in Wickenburg when game day rolled along.

We went down to Chase Field — formerly the Bank One Ballpark or “BOB” — for the game. This was my second visit to the stadium and it still awed me. It is as unlike any New York baseball stadium as possible.

First of all, the ballpark is in downtown Phoenix. That means you can walk to it from just about any location down there. Not that anyone walks. The city streets, which are wide open on a Sunday afternoon because no one has any reason to be there, become the main thoroughfare for traffic to and from the game. In New York, this would cause gridlock. But in Phoenix, it just means a little longer wait at the various traffic lights, depending on which direction you come from.

We came from the north on Route 51. As we approached I-10, one of those programmable signs — you know, with lights that spell out messages — told us to take I-10 west. We could see the stadium to the east, so we went east on I-10. The next sign told us to take 7th Avenue. We knew the stadium was just west of 7th Street, so we took that instead. There was a slight detour due to construction around the Convention Center, but within minutes of leaving the highway, we were pulling into a 5-story parking structure on the northwest corner of the ballpark.

The ballpark is pretty new — completed within the past 10 years. It’s surrounded by restaurants and parking structures and is a short distance from the Convention Center, which is being expanded. It’s a covered structure, rectangular in shape, with a roof that slides back in the evenings to let in the cool air.

Not that there wasn’t any cool air in the ballpark. On the short walk from the car to the ballpark doors — after passing through required contingent of scalpers — we were walking through some of that June 100+° dry heat that Phoenix is so famous for. We crossed a plaza that surrounded the building where various vendors were playing loud music and selling beer and showing off products. (That’s the closest you can get to a tailgate party at a Diamondbacks home game.) Then we stepped through the doors of the ballpark and into air conditioned comfort. Yes, the entire ballpark is air conditioned.

Shade and air conditioning. I don’t think the folks back in New York realize the significance of watching baseball without having to suffer through sweltering heat. (Or the sound of jets flying to and from La Guardia or the screeching of subway cars.)

Chase Field is kept clean. I mean really clean. Unlike Yankee Stadium, where you feel as if you need to go to the game wearing clothes that you can throw away afterwards.

Our seats were in section 207, on the second level, right near first base. We came in through the wrong door, so we had to climb up one flight. Upstairs, the hallway that ran behind the seating was nearly empty. No crowds, no noise. Kind of eerie. There were concession stands selling the usual baseball fare, but few people on line. Some guys tried to get us to guess how many baseballs were in a glass container — I still don’t know what they were trying to sell.

Acura ClubMike had paid $52 apiece for the seats. I thought that was a little high. But it appeared that it was some kind of special concierge seating that included waitress service. (Huh?) It also included admission to the Acura Club, on our level in the outfield. Since we got there before the game started, we decided to check it out.

The Acura Club is a restaurant set up just inside the foul pole outside of right field. It has several levels of tables on the wall of the stadium, with each seat having an excellent view of the game. It appeared that we could have had lunch there, while we watched the game. We’d already eaten, so we settled on dessert. Since the place was half empty, they didn’t seem to have a problem seating us for just a few innings.

Chase FieldThe game started and we watched it while sipping iced tea and waiting for dessert. The Met started the inning and they promptly scored 3 runs. The Diamondbacks stepped up to the plate and stepped away scoreless.

Our desserts were delivered. Mine, a slice of banana cream pie, was completely covered in a non-dairy whipped topping that needed to be scraped aside. The pie was okay. Mike’s, a “giant chocolate cream puff” was definitely giant and chocolate, served with fresh strawberries. It looked very rich.

As we ate, the second inning came and went, scoreless. I’m not sure, but that may have been the inning when the Diamondbacks loaded the plates and then had their runner tagged out as he tried to run home. The throw from the outfield was amazing. A good play that had the Diamondbacks fans groaning.

The Mets stepped up to the plate at the top of the third and proceeded to score three runs. The Diamondbacks took their turn and went scoreless. I was staring to feel sorry for them.

Chase FieldWe left the Acura Club and went to our seats. The sound was much louder there, but the view was better, being so much closer to the action. There was a surprising number of Met fans in the audience, some of them even wearing Mets jerseys and hats. So when the Mets scored 6 more runs a bit later in the game, there was quite a bit of cheering. I really felt sorry for the D’backs at that point. They were losing 10 to 0.

Acura ClubThere was a faint glimmer of hope a bit later in the game when one of the Diamondbacks hit a home run. It went over the right field wall into the swimming pool area. Yes, I did say swimming pool. One of the oddities of Chase Field is the swimming pool just outside of right field. It appears that you can rent it for parties and the like during the game. I took this photo from the Acura Club; you get the idea.

The Diamondbacks pitcher was pulled from the game a while later. He was booed off the field.

In between innings and while the Diamondbacks were changing pitchers, there was entertainment on the big Sony screen. One guy proposed to his girlfriend, live for all of us to see. Then the Kiss Cam focused on couples to kiss for us. Then the Muscle Cam for kids and adults to show off their muscles. There was a dance contest on top of the Diamondbacks dugout and some kind of video race between Ketchup, Mustard, and Relish to see which was the best topping for hot dogs. A kid got to play announcer for two innings, announcing the Diamondbacks players as they came to bat. And, of course, there was the constantly roving camera, picking out people in the crowd to focus on. The Sony screen had better entertainment than the game.

The fans beside me were Diamondbacks fans and I don’t think they were too happy when Mike cheered every time the Mets scored. At the top of one inning, when Petro Martinez (a Met) came to bat, a Diamondbacks fan nearby yelled out, “Pedro, you suck.” Pedro then proceeded to make a base hit. A Mets fan in front of us stood up, turned to the Diamondbacks fan, and yelled back, “Diamondbacks suck.” There was no fistfight. After all, the way the Diamondbacks were playing, even a die-hard Diamondbacks fan couldn’t argue.

We left right after the seventh inning stretch, just before the Diamondbacks came back to the plate. The final score of the game was 15-2.

baseball, Chase Field, Diamondbacks, Mets

Breakwater at Rockland

Another scenic view in Maine.

Breakwater at RocklandI couldn’t remember where this photo was taken, either. I knew it was in Maine and I knew I’d taken it on one of our outings with John and Lorna. So I e-mailed Lorna a copy of the image and asked her. The response came back almost immediately: Samoset Resort in Rockland, ME.

I remembered the drive to the parking area clearly — past the resort grounds to a shady lot with several dozen cars already parked. We walked from the lot to the water’s edge where this long, stone breakwater awaited us. There were people on the rock wall, walking in either direction. I managed to get a shot where you couldn’t see any of them.

The rocks were huge and placed precisely. It was an amazing feat of engineering — at least I think so. The surface was smooth enough for a vehicle to drive on it — maybe even a mountain bike with fat tires. But you did have to pay attention while walking on it. One wrong step could mean a badly twisted ankle.

Rockland Lighthouse, MaineYou also can’t see the building at the end of breakwater about a mile from where this photo was taken. Here it is. It was a lighthouse and apparently still functions as one. But it’s closed to the public, so you can just walk around it or onto its stone steps. We spent some time sitting out in the sun, watching the boats go by. It was a peaceful, relaxing place. There was some fog in the trees on the other side of the channel — the same fog we’d walked through earlier in the day when visiting the Owl’s Head Lighthouse. (Did I get that one right, Lorna?)

John and LornaI took this photo of John and Lorna on the way back to the car. John’s not an easy guy to get a picture of. It seem like every time you tell him to stand still and pose for a picture, he acts like he doesn’t believe someone’s really going to take his picture. So you have to take a few of them in a row for one of them to come out natural enough to use. This one gets them both.

Perkinsville

The ranch at the end of the line.

In February, Mike’s mom came out to Arizona to spend a week with us. She’s in her 80s now and although she’s still pretty mobile, there are limits to the things you can do with her. Among our activities was a ride of the Verde Canyon Railroad.

The railroad is a tourist attraction through-and-through. They ask you to get there an hour early — that’s so you’re stuck in a corner of Clarkdale where the only restaurants and shops are their snack bar and gift shop. Our “first class” tickets entitled us to snacks on board, but we worried that it wouldn’t be enough for the 4-hour ride. So we spent another $30 on burgers, hotdogs, chips, and soda like everyone who was waiting.

But the train ride itself is thoroughly enjoyable, especially if you like to simply relax and watch the scenery go by. The narrow gauge railroad winds along the southwest side of the Verde River, one of the few Arizona rivers that runs year-round. From the train cars — including the outdoor observation cars which are extremely pleasant — you can see a variety of wildlife. We saw bald eagles and glimpsed two different herds of javelina. On a previous trip, I remember seeing deer. There’s a recorded narration, some hokey music, and some extremely knowledgeable “conductors.” Our guy in the open car had brought along photos and the Plants of Arizona book to identify plants. And unlike the folks at the Grand Canyon Railroad, these people aren’t squeezing you for tips throughout the ride.

PerkinsvilleThe ride ends at Perkinsville, where the canyon opens up to a broader valley. There’s a ranch there and the train stops literally in front of the ranch house. The place appeared occupied — there were horses and cattle there — but there wasn’t a person in sight. The conductor guy told us the story. Years and years ago, when the railroad was built, the land at the ranch was needed as a station to take on water and fuel for the steam engines. The railroad had offered the land owners a lump sum or a royalty for the use of the land. The Perkins family had taken the lump sum, giving up their control of the right of way. Today, under new ownership, the tour train had control of the land. The people who live in the house make themselves scarce when the train stops there on every run.

Verde Canyon EngineWhy does the train stop at all? Well, this is the place the engines are moved from the front of the train to the back for the return ride. There’s a siding there and while we’re waiting, enjoying the scenery and feeling kind of bad for the people who have to deal with 130 tourists a day looking into their windows, the engineer takes the two engines and moves them. The task takes about 20 minutes and they sell ice cream sandwiches to us while we wait. Then we’re on our way back to Clarkdale at a slightly faster speed, leaving Perkinsville behind.

Do I recommend the Verde Canyon Railroad? Sure. Why not? Just get a good lunch in Cottonwood or Clarkdale before getting to the station. Don’t pay extra for the first class seating. And spend the entire journey on one of the outdoor cars where you can really see what’s around you.

Another Great Gig in Buckeye

Another great day of flying at the Buckeye Air Fair.

One of the things I like to do with my helicopter is to appear at outdoor events to offer inexpensive 8-10 minute helicopter rides in the area. I’ve done this as often as possible, notably at Robson’s Mining World, the Thunderbird Balloon Classic, the Mohave Country Fair, the ghost town of Stanton, Yarnell Daze, a shoot in Wickieup, and the Buckeye Air Fair.

We went back to Buckeye yesterday. The weather was better than last year — not nearly as windy — and although the forecast called for cloudy skies, it was mostly sunny. That drew in a lot more aircraft. That and the fact that the folks at Buckeye obviously know a thing or two about advertising their airport events to pilots.

It was a great event. There was an Albatross on static display, as well as a Groen Brothers gyroplane and a few other planes. Two medivac helicopters showed up for static display after I started flying and left before I’d finished, so I didn’t have a chance to talk to them. There was a bouncy thing for kids and someone selling pinwheels and kites. There were multiple food vendors selling barbeque, fry bread, chicken, hot dogs, and other stuff. A flight school was there, soliciting students. Game and Fish had a big trailer with some kind of display about shooting safety. (I guess they want to make sure Arizonans don’t mistake an elderly man for a quail while hunting.) They raffled off all kinds of prizes, including helicopter rides. Pilots flew in and out and were expertly guided to safe parking using a separate ground frequency. And there were parachute jumps, all landing at the northeast corner of the field. Sorry: no car show. After all, this was an airport event.

The event started late — from my point of view, anyway — at 10 AM. But Mike and I were there and set up by 9:15 AM. Although they’d originally positioned us on a dead-end taxiway near the parachute jump zone, I wasn’t too comfortable about that. I don’t think the jumpers would have been, either. So they moved us to a closed-off taxiway. It was an excellent location, clearly visible from the event’s entrance, yet easily secured. I parked with the helicopter’s nose facing the crowd and its tail pointing out toward the taxiway. There was no real possibility of onlookers walking behind the helicopter because there was no reason to go out there. Heavy-duty orange construction cones blocked off the taxiway on either side so planes wouldn’t be tempted to use it while I was out. The folks at Buckeye graciously provided a folding table and three chairs for us to set up shop.

It was a good thing we set up early. The crowd started coming in at 9:30 and I immediately have my first ride of the day. To say that I didn’t shut down until 4:30 is an overstatement, but only because I had to shut down twice for fuel, food, and a bathroom stop. My two breaks were only 15 minutes long; I flew the rest of the day. One of Mike’s co-workers, Steve (recently moved her from Iowa), showed up at about 10:30 to help out. Not a moment too soon; by then, the crowd was building.

The route started at the airport, headed south along the taxiway, and then east to the town of Buckeye. It passed over farm fields that were freshly sown with cotton or corn and alfalfa fields being harvested. Closer to town, you could clearly see that some farmers had sold out to developers and houses were being planted instead of crops. We circled back, crossing over a large (but not huge) dairy farm and more farm fields before landing back at the airport. My arrivals and departures were one of the big attractions at the show; at one point, I came in and saw at least 50 people lined up along the ramp area, watching me. Good thing the helicopter was clean.

When I first started out, the winds were less than 5 knots, so I’d come in for landing from the south. This would keep me away from any jumper activity. But as the winds picked up out of the southwest, I realized the folly of landing, sometimes heavy, with a tailwind and I began coming in from the north. I had to listen closely to the radio to make sure there weren’t any jumpers on their way down. If they were, I made a wide approach to the north east and landed along the taxiway, giving them plenty of space. It was nerve-racking to see those parachutes in the sky, high over my main rotor disc. I had to keep reminding myself that the wind would push them to their target well east of my position.

What was really amazing about this gig was that Mike and Steve were able to get three passengers on just about every flight. I price the flights — in this case, $35 per person including tax — so that if I took one person, I’d lose money; if I took two people, I’d make money; and if I took three people, I’d make pretty darn good money. Mike was able to put three on board for each flight because we had a pool of waiting customers from about 10:30 AM on that consisted of singles, couples, and trios. He sold tickets that were numbered and would use them to keep the order of the tickets sold. Then, if he had a couple flying next, he’d ask for a single with the lowest number and put him on board, too. This was not only an efficient way to keep the line from getting too long, but it was good for business.

That’s even more amazing than that is that I had at least one kid aboard for more than 75% of the flights. Flying kids is great for two reasons: first, I like to give kids what is normally their first helicopter flight experience. This goes back to my first helicopter flight experience (which I really should write about in this blog one day). I’m always happy when parents treat their kids to a ride. It tells me that they don’t have fears about flying that they’ll transfer to their kids. It also gives kids the opportunity to experience something truly different, to open their minds to the kinds of things they can do with their lives.

The second reason flying kids is great is because they’re light — usually under 100 pounds. So even with three people on board and 3/4 tanks fuel, I have no performance problems at all. That makes the flying easier — especially take offs and landings.

Once again, we didn’t finish flying until the fair was over and the airport had emptied out. Starting at around 2 PM, each time I landed, I’d notice fewer cars in the parking lot, fewer people walking around, and fewer vendors. By 3 PM, the only people left were the people waiting to fly. They were, for the most part, patient. I think they realized that if I started rushing the rides, they wouldn’t get as good a ride as the people who’d gone earlier in the day. I gave everyone pretty much the same ride, but would occasionally veer off to the south or north to show them their house if it was within range. I did a few flights to the west on request, using the helicopter’s timer to make sure I didn’t stay out too long or too short a time.

I haven’t done all the math, but I’m pretty sure I flew between 90 and 100 people. That comes pretty close to my daily record, which was set on a Saturday at the Mohave County Fair last September.

As for the money…well, let’s just say that I can keep the helicopter for another month. Isn’t that what it’s all about?

I’d like to thank the folks at Buckeye for putting on such a great event for the community and for allowing me to be part of it. And I look forward to next year.