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Rain Storm in Wickenburg

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Not much to talk about.

It rained today. For those readers who live in places where rain is a part of life, you might be wondering why I’ve taken the time to write about it.

But rain isn’t a part of life here in the Sonoran desert of Arizona. Rain is usual. Rain is special. Rain is something to look forward to and enjoy.

The rain came with a strange kind of storm. The day started out clear enough, after high winds last night blew the desert dust around. The dust was hanging in the air this morning when it got light. The same dust we’ve been looking at for the past few days.

It’s spring and wind is part of spring. Calm in the morning, windy in the afternoon, then calm in the evening and overnight.

But last night, the wind didn’t calm down. Our wind chimes tinkled vigorously all night long. We had the windows closed to keep the dust out, so they weren’t loud enough to keep us up.

This morning, it was still windy. But then it got calm. And then it got windy. Calm. Windy. Calm. Windy.

Make up your mind already!

At 10 AM, I left my desk and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Although I’m usually up before 6 AM and have my coffee right away, I don’t have breakfast until midmorning. And when I reached the kitchen with its southwest-facing windows, I realized that a storm was on the way.

Windy, calm, windy, calm. What a strange day. I watched the hazy, dust-filled sky cloud over from my northeast-facing office window. At lunchtime, back in the kitchen, I saw that the storm was closer.

Oddly enough, my neighbor’s windmill was calm. So was my other neighbor’s windsock.

The calm before the storm?

I went outside and threw my MR-2’s old car cover over my Jeep. I still haven’t put the doors and windows on the darn thing and I didn’t want to get it soaked.

A while later, the wind kicked up again. Howling this time. The palm tree branches I’d cut off our little palm tree days before blew around the yard as a dust devil came through. I went outside to check the Jeep and was surprised to see that the cover was still stretched over it.

I let the dog in.

The rain started a while later. Drizzle then pouring then drizzling. Not enough volume to keep the pavement wet; certainly not enough to get the wash flooding — a good thing, since the horses were down there. The rain cycle went on like that for a while. I checked the radar images on my Radar In Motion widget. The storm was all around me, moving in from the west.

But never enough rain to really get the pavement wet.

We have a problem here in Arizona. It’s often so dry that when it rains, the rain evaporates before it hits the ground. People think I’m kidding when I say this, but I’m not. It’s called virga. Look it up.

Sometimes, even when the rain does reach the ground, it dries before more drops can join it. The drops appear on the pavement, but dry before more drops fall around it. So the pavement doesn’t get wet. That’s what was happening today. Very disappointing.

But when I poked my head outside, I smelled the rain. A nice, fresh smell. The smell of water on the creosote bushes. A smell so unique that the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix has an exhibit that simply sprays water on creosote branches so people can smell it.

I kept working. The storm passed through. It got quiet.

When the UPS man arrived, I went outside. The pavement was dry.

To the north, I could see the mountains again. The radar showed the storm had moved to the east.

The storm was past. The rain was over.

Now I’ll have to wait again for the next storm. I hope it’s better than this one was.

Fighting Spam — All Kinds

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How I deal with comment and pingback spam.

I start each morning pretty much the same way. I make myself a cup of coffee, make a scrambled egg for my parrot, and then sit down at the kitchen table and check the comments that came into my blog overnight.

About Spam

The main thing I’m checking for each morning is comment and pingback spam. These are similar but different.

  • Comment spam is a comment that exists solely to provide one or more links to another Web site, usually to promote that site or its services, but possibly to just get links to that site to improve Google rankings. Comment spam ads nothing to the site’s value. Sometimes disguised as a guest book entry or general positive comment — for example, “Great blog! I’ll be back!” accompanied by a link or two — it simply isn’t something the average blogger should want on his or her site.
  • Pingback spam is a comment that appears as a result of a link on another blog pinging your blog. Although many pingbacks are legitimate (as many comments are legitimate), there appears to be a rise in pingbacks as a result of feed scraping, which I’ve discussed here and here. Pingback spam is usually pretty easy to spot; the software that scapes the feeds isn’t very creative, so the excerpt is usually an exact quote from what’s been scraped. Sometimes, oddly enough, the quote is from the copyright notice that appears at the bottom of every feed item originating from this site. Pingbacks automate the linking of your site to someone elses — in the case of pingback spam, it’s likely to be a splogger.

Lucky me: I get both.

Tools to Fight Comment Spam

Fortunately, I use both Bad Behavior and Spam Karma 2 (many thanks again to Miraz for suggesting both of these), so the spam comments that get through their filters and are actually posted to the site are minimized. On a typical day, I might just have 3 to 5 of them. Compare that to 3,400 potential spam messages stopped by Bad Behavior in the past week and the 51,000 spam messages deleted after posting by Spam Karma in the past year since its installation. Without these two forms of protection, I’d be spending all day cleaning up spam.

Anyone who doesn’t use some kind of spam protection on a blog with open comments is, well, an idiot.

Neither program is very effective against pingback spam, although Spam Karma seems to be catching a few of them these days. Although I’m pretty sure I can set up WordPress to reject pingbacks, I like the idea of getting legitimate links from other blogs. It helps form a community. And it provides a service to my readers. For example, if I wrote an article about something and another blogger quoted my work and added his insight to it, his article might interest my readers. Having a link in my comments right to his related post is a good thing.

My Routine

So my morning routine consists of checking Spam Karma’s “Approved Comments” and marking the comments that are spam as spam. Then I go into WordPress’s Comments screen (Dashboard > Manage > Comments) and marking pingback spam as spam and deleting it.

Why do it both ways? Well, I’m concerned that if I keep telling Spam Karma that pingback spam is spam, it’ll think all pingbacks are spam. I don’t want it to do that. So I manually delete them. It only takes a minute or two, so it isn’t a big deal. If I had hundreds of these a day, I might do things differently.

The other reason I delete the pingbacks manually is because I want to check each site that’s pinging mine. I collect URLs of splogging sites and submit them periodically to Google. These sites violate Google’s Terms of Service and I’m hoping Google will either cancel their AdSense accounts or remove them from Google’s search indexing (or, preferably, both). So I send the links to Google and Google supposedly looks at them.

I’m working on a project to make creating a DMCA notice easier — almost automated — and would love to hear from anyone working on a project like that.

This morning was quiet. Only three spams to kill: one comment spam and two pingback spams. I’ll get a few more spams during the day and kill them as they arrive; WordPress notifies me via e-mail of all comments and pingbacks as they are received. (I don’t check my e-mail at the breakfast table anymore.)

Do you have a special way to deal with comment or pingback spam? Don’t keep it a secret. Leave a Comment below.

Flying to Sedona (again)

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A helicopter flight that has become routine.

As I write this, 36% of the site visitors who have taken the time to vote in my Most Interesting Topics Poll (that’s 11 people so far; I’m hoping for continued growth in that vote count) have said that Flying is the most interesting topic on this site. So I decided to devote this morning’s blog session to a flying article.

(For those of you just tuning in for the first time, among the hats I wear is a commercial helicopter pilot hat. I operate a Single Pilot Part 135 helicopter tour and charter company out of Wickenburg, AZ — Flying M Air.)

I flew yesterday. I flew three passengers from Wickenburg to Sedona and back. The passengers were originally from Russia and now live in the U.K. They’re staying at the Flying E Ranch, one of Wickenburg’s remaining three guest ranches.

I can’t get excited about this flight. It was so routine. After all, by now I must have flown from Wickenburg to Sedona and back at least 50 times.

The only thing unusual about the flight yesterday was visibility. In Arizona, it’s clear and sunny almost every day. Not only can I usually see the Weaver Mountains about 15 miles to the north, but I can usually see them clearly — that means I can distinguish rocks and canyons and other features from 15 miles away. But yesterday was different. It was hazy, as if a thin gauze had been stretched across my eyes. As I drove to the airport at about 10:00, it was apparent why: there was moisture in the air. There was condensation on my Jeep and even a little frost down where the horses were munching their morning meal. Imagine that. Moisture.

My passengers arrived early, all bundled up for the 50°F temperatures we expected in Sedona. After giving them their preflight briefing and loading them on board, I started the helicopter and waited for it to warm up. A few minutes later, we were on our way, climbing to the northeast into hazy skies.

The air was smooth, the sights were the same as usual (except for the haze) and I pointed them out faithfully to my passengers. They didn’t talk much, which is always a danger with me. I wind up talking to fill the silence, telling them more about the area than I usually do. I had three passengers on board, so I had to make sure I pointed out things on both sides of the helicopter — normally, with just two on board, I put them on the same side of the helicopter so I only have to point out things on one side.

We crossed the Weaver Mountains not far from the hidden cabins I’d discovered years before. Then we followed the Hassayampa River up toward Prescott, crossing the Bradshaws. My passengers were thrilled by the sight of snow on the north side of the moutains. I was thrilled by the fact that the haze had cleared out and it was a nice, clear day up there.

As we got close to town, I reported in to the tower at Prescott Airport. I planned to follow Route 69 a bit and then head toward the pass atop Mingus Mountain. This would have me cutting as much as one mile into Prescott’s airspace. (I normally go around it so I don’t have to talk to the tower, but our heavy weight had our airspeed a bit slower than usual and I wanted to save a few minutes of time.) We were over Prescott Valley when the tower pointed out a Baron about 400 feet above us, crossing in front of us. I descended about 500 feet — I was high because of all the mountains I’d have to cross — to stay out of his way. Then the tower cut me loose and I climbed up and over Mingus Mountain, reaching my highest elevation of the flight: about 8,000 feet.

West SedonaFrom there, I started a 1,000 fpm descent to the northwest, descending past the former ghost town of Jerome. I told my passengers about the first time I’d been there nearly 20 years ago when only a handful of people lived there. Now it was a booming tourist town, with art galleries and restaurants in the old buildings perched along its hillside. I showed them the open pit mine, then continued northwest to the red rocks. We did a red rocks tour on the way into Sedona, avoiding the flight path of the helicopter tour operators there, and landed at the airport.

Uneventful.

Of course, I’d been so concerned with getting my credit card terminal to work at the airport that I’d forgotten to bring a book or my laptop so I’d have something to do while my passengers went on their Jeep tour. Duh. After the Jeep picked them up, I walked over to Sedona’s restaurant for lunch. (I don’t think I can recommend the Chicken Alfredo with Broccoli; too thick and starchy, although the chicken was cooked nicely.) Then back to the terminal to wait.

I wound up renting a car from the car rental guy there. $20 for up to 3 hours (I think). I didn’t even have it two hours. I drove down off Airport Mesa and hit the New Frontiers grocery store at the bottom of the hill. It has a magnificent selection of cheese and a very knowledgeable cheese guy behind the counter. I tasted some cheeses and wound up buying them all. I also bough brussels sprouts on the stalk — something that’s simply not available in Wickenburg.Then into “uptown” Sedona to visit a bookstore (the Worm) which seemed to have fewer books than I remember. And coffee at the coffee shop across the street. Then back to the airport so I’d be there when my passengers returned.

I talked to everyone who worked at the airport. The car rental guy, the AZ Adventures helicopter tour guys, the FBO guys, and the Maverick helicopter tour guy. That kept me busy even after my passengers returned from the Jeep tour and went to have lunch at the airport restaurant. By 3:30 PM, they were back and it was time to go.

The return trip was almost as routine. The haze had moved in a bit and we were flying right into the sun. My hat was under my seat, so I had to shade my eyes with my hand once in a while. Instead of heading straight for the southern end of Mingus Mountain, we headed southeast to Oak Creek Village. My front seat passenger had his camera out and the red rocks were being illuminated by that gently filtered afternoon sun. The views out that side of the helicopter were great. I flew just past Oak Creek VIllage before turning to the southwest, back into the sun. The mountains rose as dark shapes silhouetted against the hazy light.

I didn’t have as much to say on the way back. Part of that was my intercom system, which was creating static again. (I have to fix that! It’s driving me nuts!) So I had the squelch set so it was less likely to make noise. My passengers weren’t talking anyway. They were just looking; the daughter, who was probably close to 18 years old, had her iPod on under her headset and probably wouldn’t have heard what we were saying anyway.

The farther south we flew, the worse the haze got. It was definitely brownish in color toward the Phoenix area — smog trapped in an inversion. At one point, we could clearly see a dark line in the sky that marked the inversion layer. Very unusual.

I flew them over Crown King, a tiny town in the Bradshaw Mountains. The main reason I go that way on the way back is that you can normally see Wickenburg Airport from the Crown King area — a distance of about 23 nautical miles. But not yesterday. The haze was so complete that if I didn’t have my GPS set to Wickenburg (or at least a heading in mind) I would have strayed off course. I simply couldn’t see that far away. Even Lake Pleasant was difficult to see from the air, although I did point it out for my passengers as we flew about 10 miles north of its northern edge.

We were over the Monte Cristo mine on Constellation Road when I was still trying to figure out exactly where we were. When I saw the mine shaft and buildings, I thought I’d stumbled upon a mine I’d never seen before. Then I recognized it and was surprised that we were so close to town. Less than 10 miles to the airport, according to my GPS. I could just about make out reflections downtown and the scars of the earth around the airport.

I flew over town and then headed out to Flying E to show them the ranch where they were staying from the air. (That’s something I do for people staying in our local hotels and guest ranches.) Then we landed by the fuel pumps at the airport. I cooled down and shut down.

Routine.

After a while, flying the same route over and over does become routine or — dare I say it? — boring. Sedona is a place of incredible beauty and the best way to appreciate its beauty is to see it from the air. Yet when you’ve seen it as many times as I have, the impact of all that beauty fades. That’s one of the things I talked to the FBO guys in Sedona about. They both agreed that when they’d first come to Sedona, they were amazed at its beauty. Now, living with it all around them every day, it simply isn’t a big deal.

I felt like that when I flew at the Grand Canyon, too. Don’t get me wrong — it never got so boring that I’d prefer to fly elsewhere. I just wished I had the freedom to alter my flight path for a slightly different view or a new way of seeing things.

And here in Wickenburg. The upstairs front windows of my home look out over the Weaver Mountains in the distance. When I first moved into the house, I thought it was a view I’d never grow tired of. But I did. Kind of. I’m not sure why.

I’d be interested in hearing from other pilots who fly in beautiful places and have somehow lost sight of that beauty because of routine. Use the Comments link.