Tag Archives: cherry drying

Drying Cherries

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Up close and personal with a whole lot of trees — and fruit.

One of the things that has been keeping me very busy — at least lately — this summer is my work as a cherry drying pilot.

What It’s All About

In brief: During the last three or so weeks that cherries are on the trees, if they get wet, they can become damaged — usually splitting or developing mold. Growers who don’t want to lose their crop hire helicopter pilots to stand by during cherry season. After a rain, they call us out to hover over trees. The downwash from our rotor blades shakes the branches, thus shaking off accumulated water.

There’s a lot more I can say about this, but I don’t think it’s necessary. As I mentioned here, the work can be dangerous and requires good flying skills. (There was an accident in an orchard just the other day that was likely caused by a failure to respect density altitude in a heavy helicopter. Both occupants survived uninjured; the helicopter didn’t.) It’s not for low-time pilots. And it’s a crappy way to build time — I was here 6 weeks before I was called out to fly at all and, now seven weeks in, I’ve only flown about 9 hours.

Oh, and did I mention how incredibly tedious the work is?

Some Snapshots

Anyway, yesterday I was called out twice to dry. There was a 15-acre orchard that I had to dry twice and a 40-acre orchard that I dried just once. Add that acreage together and you get 70 acres of cherry trees.

For my second call out, I mounted my GoPro “nosecam” on the helicopter. I actually have video from that viewpoint of both orchards I dried on that call. It’s not very exciting stuff. As I type this, I’m debating on whether to throw a few minutes’ worth into a video to share. I wouldn’t want to put anyone to sleep.

I did, however, pull out a few still images as photos to share here.

Cherry Drying
This is a typical view down an aisle of cherry trees. I fly very low.

Orchard and Rain
Here’s a shot as I approached the 40-acre orchard block. You’re looking at hundreds, if not thousands, of trees. It was still raining lightly as I flew up. I took the opportunity to land near the orchard and pull my door off. When the sun comes out, it gets very hot in the cockpit — especially when you’re wearing a Nomex flight suit and helmet.

Cherry Drying
Here’s another drying shot. These trees are younger than the ones in the smaller orchard and were heavy with fruit, which you may be able to see in this shot. The sun was out for much of this dry, so time was of the essence.

Serious Business

Cherry drying is serious business. My client is paying me good money to sit around and wait for the rain. When the rain comes, it’s my job to quickly and effectively dry his trees. If I fail to do my job, my client can lose his entire crop. That could be hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of fruit, the difference between a profitable year and a year living on credit.

It’s a huge responsibility that I take very seriously.

The next time you eat fresh US-grown cherries, think about the folks in the production chain that put those cherries on your plate. I might be one of them.

About the Cherry Drying Posts

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And why they’re were password protected.

Drying CherriesA few weeks ago, it came to my attention that this blog was the primary source of information about cherry drying by helicopter. Every day, pilots who wanted to learn more about cherry drying were stopping in to read up.

Normally, I’d be pleased. But I also began to realize that these same pilots were using the information I provided to compete with me for cherry drying work.

That would simply not do.

The truth of the matter is, there simply isn’t enough work to go around. Every year, I struggle to get my contracts together and signed and then struggle some more to get my standby pay. Other pilots I know who have been doing this work far longer than I have go through the same process. None of us can afford to have competition for what little work is out there.

In my case, it’s particularly tough. I travel from Arizona to Washington and back at considerable cost. This year, I made the trip with only one contract signed. If I hadn’t been able to secure other work, I would have taken a heavy loss.

In this tough economy, I depend on this work to keep my business afloat. Without it, I’d likely have to sell the helicopter. Right now, there simply isn’t enough tour and charter work out there to cover the cost of my fixed expenses, such as insurance, annual maintenance, and hangaring.

So I’ve password-protected the posts, making them inaccessible to most visitors. I’ll likely remove the password once my friends and I stop doing this work.

August 2013 Update: Since writing this blog post, I’ve moved to Washington state. I’m very secure in my cherry drying work with great clients that I serve faithfully year after year. Indeed, I’ve built the kind of relationships with my clients that I’m proud of. I have so much work during the busiest part of the season that I’m actively looking for other helicopter pilots with their own helicopters to work with me. If you’re an owner/operator with an R44 helicopter, at least 500 hours helicopter experience, and a month or so free every summer and you want to get started in this work, visit the Help Wanted page on Flying M Air’s website to learn more about opportunities.

The rest of this post still applies.

Some Important Things to Know about Cherry Drying

I do need to say a few things about cherry drying for the folks looking for information.

  • Cherry drying requires a helicopter. If you don’t have a helicopter, you cannot dry cherries. Any company that has helicopters for this kind of work already has pilots. Inexperienced pilots cannot expect to be hired for this kind of work by a company that already has helicopters and pilots.
  • Cherry drying is not a good way to build time. I got less than 20 hours of drying time this summer. I got around 5 hours each of the previous two years. Do you really want to blow a whole summer sitting around in farm country waiting for it to rain just to get 5 to 20 hours of flight time?
  • Cherry drying is not for low-time pilots. When you work, you’re hovering 5 feet over treetops, sometimes in very windy conditions. That means tailwinds and crosswinds and LTE. There’s a lot of dancing on the pedals. There’s a real need to know the helicopter you’re flying.
  • Cherry drying is dangerous. All operations are inside the deadman’s curve. If you have an engine problem, you will crash. Read these accident reports to get a better idea of what can happen: SEA05CA122, SEA04LA102, LAX02LA169, SEA00LA101, SEA00LA103, WPR09LA371, and WPR11CA146

I know a lot of helicopter pilots — especially low-time helicopter pilots — out there are desperate for work. If you’re one of them, I can assure you that cherry drying isn’t the solution you’re looking for.

Why I Go On and On about the Cherries

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I’m awed.

Cherries on a Tree

Cherries in their natural state.

If you follow me on Twitter, you’re probably sick of me tweeting about two things: cherries and the weather. I’ve explained, in detail, why the weather is so important to me this time of year. Let me take a moment to explain why I keep tweeting about cherries.

It’s In My Face

For the past month, cherries have been an integral part of my life. I’m living across the street from a very large cherry orchard. My helicopter is actually parked in the orchard. I drive or walk into the orchard nearly every day. I’ve also spent literally hours flying over the orchard’s trees, low-level. I feel that I have a first-hand knowledge of the orchard surpassed only by its owners, managers, and workers.

Even before I moved to my temporary home across the street, I visited the orchard. The first time was in June. Back then, the cherries were bunches of small pink dots, clustered on the branches. A few weeks later and there hadn’t been any serious change. It seemed like they’d never get ripe.

Hydrocooler in Action

The hydrocooler with its water chiller and accompanying generator in action during the peak of picking time.

Then I moved here and started to observe the activity at the orchard. Watering every morning and night. Spraying for pests many afternoons. Bringing in hundreds (if not thousands) or red wooden cherry bins. Bringing in the portable toilets and ladders for the pickers. Cleaning out the shed. Moving in heavy equipment, like the hydrocooler and its water chiller with massive diesel generator. Preparing the tractors and bin trailers and forklifts. Distributing the bins among the rows of trees.

The cherries took their own time to ripen and the growers couldn’t rush them. When the packing plant had a high demand for fruit, some picking began tentatively, pulling the scant ripe cherries from the trees. Then quiet again as they waited.

I did my part, blowing rainwater off the trees four times, protecting the vulnerable fruit from water damage.

Picking for One

Washed Cherries

Not the best photo, I know; I snapped it with my cell phone to show off how beautiful the cherries were. I hope I don’t seem too demented.

I asked for and got permission to pick cherries for my own consumption. Two or three times a week, I’d head out into the orchard and find some trees with dark red, ripe fruit. I’d fill a small colander, then head back to my trailer with my prizes. I used my RV’s small sink to wash off whatever they’d been spraying on the fruit with cold water baths and rinses. Once clean, the fruit looked beautiful. So beautiful that I couldn’t help by take photos to share on Twitter and in my blog.

I think what I like most about the cherries I pick is the way they’re so unlike store bought cherries. They haven’t been processed. Don’t misunderstand me — processing doesn’t hurt the cherries. It cleans them, probably better than I do. But it also cuts the stems to separate the bunches of cherries and sorts them by size. In my plastic cherry bin, the cherries are still bunched together in twos, threes, and fours — just the way I picked them. Some of them even have small leaves attached. And although most of the cherries I pick are quite large, I’ve also picked the small ones that never make it into stores. That somehow makes my cherries seem more natural. More real.

Even if they’re so perfect looking that they seem fake in photos.

There’s So Much To It

There’s something about being part of the farming process that really makes you appreciate your food. People see cherries in a bag at the supermarket, but do they ever think about what went into getting them there?

This orchard is on the side of a hill that is, in some places, very steep. Someone had to clear the land of scattered pine trees, sage bushes, tall grass, and big rocks. They had to plant rows of young trees and protect them from deer and other grazing animals with tall fences. They had to put in irrigation systems that would deliver fresh water, on demand, to the bases of the trees from a system of reservoirs stair-stepping down the hillside. They had to prune the trees, spray them for pests, fertilize them. They had to protect them during harsh winters and late spring frosts.

They did this for years, nurturing the trees as they began to bear fruit and grow, always adding more trees and irrigation to expand the orchard. Now, this orchard is 86 acres, but I can see the newest, youngest trees, just planted this year, on a hillside not far away. With a few years of care, they’ll be bearing fruit, too.

It isn’t always easy. The orchard’s reservoir is filled by turning a valve that brings water down from another reservoir at the top of the hill. The other day, someone left the valve open too long. The reservoir overflowed and flooded out the overflow area. Two small dams were on the verge of breaking; one of them would have released enough water to take out a road the pickers needed to get to a far orchard block. It was fortunate that a large backhoe was available nearby. The grower was able to dig out a channel to direct the water to a nearby stream. While it must have hurt to release valuable water he’d paid for, it was better than having a road rebuilt or possibly losing access to 15 acres of trees.

Picking

Picking began in earnest about two weeks ago, then stopped suddenly for five days. It started again yesterday. This grower picks for color — they’ll go through the same trees more than once to pick only the best, ripest fruit. They’re probably about halfway done; trees I picked fruit from only a week ago are now picked clean.

I’ve already documented the picking process in my “Cherries: From Tree to Truck” video. What I’ve learned is that every orchard does things a little differently. The process here is similar, but not quite the same.

Pondside Parking

Yesterday, the pickers were parked uncomfortably close to my helicopter.

It’s going on as I type this. From my office window, I can see the pickers moving ladders. I can see their cars parked out in the orchard. I can hear the refrigerated tractor trailer truck pulling up for another load of 30,000+ pounds to take away to the packing plant. The tractors pull in with full cherry bins, the water truck sprays down the roads to keep the dust down, the forklifts shuffle the cherry bins around.

It’s a good day for picking: very cool, partly cloudy. They might work until 2 PM today — a full day, considering they started at first light.

It’s an amazing thing to be part of. Can’t help it if it makes me want to talk about cherries.

One Way Not to Research a Pilot Job

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Some people are so dumb.

I got a call today from an unidentified helicopter pilot who’s “just about to get” his CFI. He called my number and asked to speak to a pilot who happens to own another helicopter charter operation in Washington State. When I told him that person didn’t work for me, he seemed satisfied to talk to me.

He wanted information on cherry drying. He’d heard about it and he wanted to do it. I told him that if he wanted to be a cherry drying pilot, he needed a helicopter.

“So you get a helicopter and then you can do cherry drying?” he asked.

I decided I wasn’t going to give him very much information. “Yes.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Yes.”

Long pause. He was evidently expecting more. Then: “So you have a helicopter company?”

“Yes.”

“How many helicopters do you have? Four or five?”

Cherry Parking Spot

One helicopter is enough for me.

“No. I have one. I can only fly one helicopter at a time.”

“Oh!” he sounded surprised. “So you’re just a tiny company.”

I don’t think I’m being unreasonable when I say that the word tiny applied as a label to my company by a 200-hour pilot rubbed me the wrong way. I probably should have hung up on him there. But I decided to feed him some of my patented sarcasm. “If it makes you happy to say that I have a tiny company, fine.”

He wasn’t quite bright enough to pick up on the sarcasm. “Well, it doesn’t make me happy,” he said, sounding more than a little baffled. He hurried on. “So you have a bunch of pilots and they fly that helicopter.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No,” I corrected him. “I am the only pilot. One helicopter, one pilot. Makes sense, no?”

“Oh. And you do cherry drying?”

I was getting very tired of the conversation. “Yes. I come here and sit around for 16 hours a day, 7 days a week for weeks at a time. When it rains, I fly. That’s cherry drying. And believe me, it isn’t for low time pilots.”

Perhaps he [finally] began to sense the hostility in my voice. Suddenly, he was done. I guess he realized that I wasn’t going to hire him. He thanked me for my time and hung up.

I wonder if he ever found the person he was looking for.

Weather Forecast FAIL

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You simply can’t trust any source.

My summer job as a cherry drying pilot depends on weather. When it rains, I fly. When it doesn’t rain, I don’t. If there’s absolutely no chance of rain, I can goof off.

Yesterday’s forecast called for haze with mostly sunny skies with a 0% chance of rain. I stayed in most of the morning, working on a book revision, and knocked off two chapters. By then, it was 1 PM and I was ready to head down into town to do some errands, have lunch out, and do some grocery shopping.

But it was overcast. It was overcast most of the day. In my mind, overcast ≠ mostly sunny.

The clouds were high and moving quickly. There were patches that looked thick. There were some straggling low clouds that moved along with the ones above.

There was no haze. In fact, yesterday the air was the clearest it had been in over a week. The wind was probably to thank for that. It wasn’t very windy, but it was windy enough to have to close the window beside my desk. It was downright chilly.

I looked at the weather forecast again. Still the same, no chance of rain.

Radar does not show clouds.
One of my clients thought that radar images showed cloud coverage. Although there are usually clouds where the radar echoes appear, radar is supposed to show precipitation. In dry climates, however, rainfall often evaporates before it hits the ground, so you can’t rely on radar echoes to indicate rain unless they’re very strong echoes. Color indicates strength. You learn to read radar very quickly when weather is a major part of your life.

Then I looked at the current radar. There were plenty of light green echoes moving southwest to northeast at a good clip. Sometimes those echoes were right over me, although it wasn’t raining. I did not feel comfortable driving into town when weather radar and cloud coverage indicated that rain was a possibility.

By 4 PM, I was tired of waiting. Despite the cloud cover and those light radar echoes, the forecast still said there was a 0% chance. It was obviously not going to rain.

I got in my truck and headed down to Wenatchee.

I hit a few stores to pick up a few things. Then I had an excellent meal at Smokeblossom on Wenatchee Avenue. Afterwards, I headed to East Wenatchee where there’s a Safeway supermarket I like.

I was filling up my truck with diesel at Safeway’s fuel pumps when my phone rang. It was my client.

“Hey, Maria. Is it raining up there?”

I’m living across the street from his orchard, so I should know the weather. I was embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t there, but I wasn’t about to lie. “I’m down in town,” I told him. And then I looked up. From my position, I could clearly see up the canyon toward the orchard. And it sure as hell looked as if it were raining. I reported what I saw and added, “I’m just getting gas in my truck now. I’ll head right back up there and give you a call.”

As I finished fueling, rain started falling on the truck. It was a light drizzle.

I sped back across the bridge, winding my way through traffic, and got on the road that would take me back to the orchard. It was raining on me the whole time. Just enough of a drizzle to put the wipers on their lowest setting. The road wasn’t wet, though.

I drove into the orchard and parked beside some trees. I got out of the truck and looked at the cherries. Some tiny drops were on them. I got back in the truck and drove over to another area. More tiny drops. It didn’t seem like a big deal, but I wasn’t a decision maker.

My client arrived a while later. He took one of the quads and toured the orchard. I went back to my trailer and closed it up. The rain pattered gently on the roof. The temperature dropped to 65°F.

I waited. It was getting late. I’d arrived at the orchard at about 6:30 PM. Sunset was around 8:20 PM. I’d have enough light to fly until 8:50 PM. I needed nearly 2 hours to dry the orchard. It was unlikely that they’d launch me while it was still raining. I kept checking the weather. The radar kept showing bands of possible rain coming our way. At 7 PM, the forecast updated to admit that there was a 20% chance of showers. While it was raining.

My client called at 7:30 and I walked across the street to the shed to talk to him. “False alarm,” he said. “Not wet enough to worry about.”

Of course, it was still raining. We discussed what we’d do if it started raining harder or rained in the middle of the night. Then we parted and I went in for the night.

I didn’t get a chance to do my grocery shopping.

It rained until 11 PM or later. I think it may have rained a bit in the middle of the night, too. In the morning, as soon as it got light to see, I walked across the street and checked out the cherries on the closest trees. Some were bone dry. Others were soaking wet.

I flew 1.8 hours this morning.

WeatherToday is a beautiful day, with thin high clouds and puffy thick ones floating out to the northeast at about 10,000 feet. The forecast says mostly sunny. Again.

I think I’ll head out and do my grocery shopping early, just in case.