The Window of Opportunity

Sometimes you just get lucky.

This is a follow-up to the post that appeared here on Friday, “The Tour Operator’s Fly or Don’t Fly Decision.” In that post, I explained why I wasn’t going to take a party of three passengers on a 3+ hour scenic flight in northern Arizona in Thursday’s high winds.

It was a very good decision. We flew on Friday instead. What a difference a day makes! The skies were completely clear and winds seldom topped 10 MPH anywhere on our route.

We had a smooth flight up the Verde River before climbing over the Mogollon Rim west of Payson to Meteor Crater. We passed a herd of buffalo just southwest of the crater and I was able to do a low-level circle around them for the benefit of my passengers.

Here’s a quick video of the Meteor Crater overflight, taken from a camera mounted inside my helicopter’s bubble. Narration was added afterward.

It was a bit bumpy from there to the Grand Falls of the Little Colorado River, which were flowing but not exactly “grand” that day. (We need more snow melt to really get them going.)

This video shows the no-so-grand Grand Falls of the Little Colorado River. Look closely and you’ll see a truck parked along the right rim of the canyon; gives you an idea of scale.

Then south of Flagstaff Airport to Oak Creek Canyon and into Sedona. My passengers had lunch at the airport restaurant while I arranged for fuel and chatted with the folks at the terminal. On the way back, we did a quick flyby of Montezuma’s Castle, climbed up the mountains southwest of Camp Verde, and followed the Agua Fria River to Lake Pleasant. I showed them the ruins atop Indian Mesa and one of my passengers spotted some wild burros, so I swung around to give them all a good look. From there, we returned to our starting point at Scottsdale Airport.

I logged 3.4 hours of flight time in the nicest of conditions. My passengers — and I! — really enjoyed the flight. And it was nice to put a little cash in Flying M Air’s coffers.

On Saturday, the wind kicked up again, although not as bad as it was on Thursday. Then storms moved in. It rained almost all day in the Phoenix area (and Wickenburg) and snowed up north. There were low clouds all day Sunday and even now, as I write this around dawn on Monday, I can see low clouds out my window. (Oddly, I got a call from a Phoenix area concierge asking if I could do a nighttime tour of Phoenix last night; what kind of scenic tour did they expect when you can’t see more than a mile or two in mist? Sheesh.)

Of course, all this rain is very unusual for Arizona. We’ve had more rain in the first two months of this year than we did all 12 months of last year.

In general, I consider myself (and my passengers) lucky to have slipped into that narrow window of opportunity for such a long flight. It worked out great for all of us.

It’s All in the Preparation

What it takes to conduct a 6-day helicopter excursion.

On Sunday, I begin the fourth and final 6-day Southwest Circle Helicopter Adventure I’m conducting for calendar year 2009. The trip is the culmination of months of preparation, most of which happens in the weeks and then days leading up to the trip itself. I thought it might be interesting to some reader to see what goes into it.

A Year in Advance

I make hotel reservations for the weeks of the planned excursions a year or more in advance. I have to do this to ensure that I get rooms for my guests (and myself, in many cases) at some destinations.

The most troublesome destinations are Monument Valley, the Grand Canyon, and Lake Powell, in that order.

Zero Mike Lima at Monument Valley

Zero-Mike-Lima at Monument Valley.

In Monument Valley, we stay at Goulding’s Lodge, which overlooks the valley from the west. It’s not a big place and it has lots of historic significance. It’s also very popular with bus tours. That means it fills up quickly and early. I normally reserve a room with a king bed and a room with two queen beds. If the trip is sold, my guests get first choice based on preferences selected when the excursion is booked. Sometimes, however, I have to get two identical rooms. The other room is for me; there’s no where else within walking distance — I won’t have any ground transportation there — to stay.

At the Grand Canyon, I usually try to book rooms at Bright Angel Lodge (rim cabins with or without views), Thunderbird Lodge (standard rooms with or without views) or Kachina Lodge (standard rooms with or without rooms). I try in that order because, in my opinion, those are the best value rooms. Lots of people want to stay at El Tovar. I think it’s overrated. Sure, its historic — so is Bright Angel — but the rooms are small and cramped, just as you might expect in a 104-year-old hotel. They’re also very expensive — the more spacious rooms cost far more than the budget I’ve set aside for overnight accommodations. And although the hotel is right on the rim — so are the other three I listed — very few of the rooms have any kind of view of the canyon. Bright Angel offers a more rustic, historic experience steps away from the rim. Thunderbird and Kachina are more modern and motel-like but are also more comfortable. And let’s face it: when the sun goes down at the Grand Canyon, there isn’t much to do. A comfortable room is important.

As for me, I go with what I consider the best value on the rim: a half-bath room at Bright Angel. Sure, the shower is down the hall and there’s no television, but you can’t beat the location or price.

At Lake Powell, my guests stay at the Lake Powell Resort. It’s a huge resort complex right on the lake, with views, private patios, pools, a hot tub, restaurants, etc. I get lakeview rooms for my guests. They’ll spend nearly 24 hours at the resort and I want them to be comfortable. I don’t stay there, though. It’s too expensive and too far from the helicopter for me. Lately, I’ve been staying at the Days Inn across from WalMart. Less expensive, clean, and it has wifi.

Of these three hotels, I have to pay for the rooms at the Grand Canyon and Lake Powell up front. That means thousands of dollars in prepaid hotel expenses. I think of it as an investment. And when the excursions sell, I’m ready.

The remaining two nights — one in Sedona and one in Flagstaff — are usually relatively easy to book with at least a month’s notice. I don’t book them until an excursion is booked.

One last thing I do after booking: I modify the Southwest Circle Availability page on the Flying M Air Web site to clearly indicate what dates are available.

On Booking

Lookout Studio at the Grand Canyon by Maria Langer

One of my favorite subjects is Lookout Studio in the early light. (You can click it to see a larger version in my Photo Gallery.)

When an excursion is booked, I start by sending a package of materials out to my guests. The package includes a bunch of brochures, as well as a preferences questionnaire. They fill in the questionnaire with their preferences for rooms (for example, 1 king or 2 queen beds?), tours (for example, Antelope Canyon or Navajo Tapestry boat tour at Lake Powell?), and other options.

When I get the questionnaire, I start working the phones. I confirm and, if necessary, attempt to change existing hotel reservations. Sometimes I might have booked a non-view room at the Grand Canyon, for example, because that’s the only thing that was available at booking; I may be able to change it to a better room. I make new reservations for Sedona and Flagstaff. I also make reservations for tours. I book rental cars and rooms for me.

As I do all this, I’m entering dates and times and details into iCal, which I use for scheduling. This builds an itinerary for my guests. I’ll send them a PDF version of the itinerary for their approval. They may have some changes — perhaps they want to do their helicopter tour over the Grand Canyon a little later in the day to enjoy more time in Sedona that morning — and I’ll make them, if I can, when they tell me.

A Month Before

In the middle of each month, I look at the excursions scheduled but not booked for the following month. Then I work the phones again to cancel the hotel reservations I made for those dates.

Although I can cancel with as short a notice as two or three days, I’ve realized that it’s not a good idea to wait until the last minute. Not only can forget to do it, but I’d prefer to have the prepaid expenses refunded back to my credit card as soon as possible. Besides, with a month or less advance notice, I’m not likely to be able to get the rest of the excursion — other rooms and tours — booked satisfactorily. It’s best to just throw in the towel for those dates. I update the Web site to remove those dates so folks don’t try to book them.

Canceling all those dates takes the better part of a morning. There are a lot of dates in the systems and the reservation clerks don’t understand why. I have to explain it to them. I also have to make sure they only cancel the dates that need to be cancelled.

Accounting for the refunds is a nightmare. I have to match them in my accounting records by date. Although the hotels don’t usually make mistakes, sometimes they do. And it’s a real pain in the butt to fix them.

A month before a booked excursion is also when I take the 50% deposit from guests. I confirm with my guests that we’re still moving forward — this deposit is not refundable. I’ve never had anyone back out at this stage of the game.

Once I have the deposit, I send out the luggage, hats, and other goodies I’ve promised my guests. I provide the luggage so I know it’ll fit in the aircraft. They’re Totes wheelie bags. Admittedly, they’re not the best quality, but they’re lightweight and they will last for the entire 6-days of the trip, as well as through any baggage handling the airlines subject them to on the way to or from Arizona.

If my guests have requested dinner at El Tovar during their stay, this is also when I make reservations. You can make them as far in advance as a month; if you want until the last minute, you’re likely to be eating at 5 PM or 9 PM. I try to book for either a specific requested time or right after sunset.

A Week Before

I reconfirm all reservations about a week before a booked excursion. This takes about a half day.

I also fine-tune the itinerary and do a final check to make sure it’s correct and resolve any problems I might have found.

If my guests are flying in and I haven’t gotten their flight information, I call or e-mail them to get it. I also send them instructions for finding the Terminal Three helispot at Sky Harbor Airport if I’ll be picking them up there. I can’t leave the helicopter unattended there, so they’re responsible for finding me.

I also begin my daily weather checks, just to keep an eye on storm systems, temperatures, and wind forecasts. I’ll be checking the weather along the route every single day for the next two weeks.

Three Days Before

I take the final 50% deposit three days before the excursion. This is also when I do all the paperwork that goes into the guest package:

  • Receipt for payment.
  • Welcome letter.
  • Printed itinerary.
  • Sedona and Flagstaff street maps.
  • Grand Canyon walking tour, shopping, and dining brochures.

I create the flight manifests and weight and balance calculations for each leg of the helicopter flight. This is required by the FAA to be on board the helicopter during the flight.

The Day Before

The day before the trip, I go through the helicopter and pull any item that I won’t need to have on board for the flight. I reorganize the under-seat storage bins so it’s easy to find what I need. The seat behind me will be for luggage — mine underneath and theirs secured on top. I make sure the bungee I’ll need to secure the luggage is on board.

I’ll also add the items I need for a long cross country flight. I usually bring along 4 quarts of the W100+ oil I use — I can definitely expect to add at least one quart during the trip, but I sometimes need more. The oil is hard to find, so it’s better to have enough with me than to have to hunt for it. And for our flight over Lake Powell, I need life jackets, so I bring those along, too. And I stow the manifests I’ve created. I don’t need to consult them in flight, but they must be on board, so I put them in my Hobbs book under my seat.

I also make sure the helicopter and its windows are clean, that my spray bottle for cleaning the windows is full, and that my rags are clean. I do a thorough pre-flight, which I’ll mostly repeat the next day before the flight.

The Trip

On the first day of the trip, I meet my passengers at the predetermined airport. After introductions and hand-shaking, I give them a complete and thorough passenger safety briefing, pointing out things like the fire extinguisher and the location of first aid and survival equipment (under my seat). I load up their luggage — mine is already under that back seat — and secure it. Then I help them aboard, make sure they know how to operate the seat belt and doors, and close their doors securely for them.

Then we’re off. I won’t go into the trip details; you can read about a typical itinerary here.

As we fly, I tell them what I know about the terrain we fly over. I know the routes by heart — I’ve flown over them enough — but I still have occasional surprises: wild horses, a herd of antelope, mild turbulence where I don’t expect it, etc. I share just about everything I see with my passengers — they’re probably sick of listening to me by the end of their trip.

Lower Antelope Canyon by Maria Langer

In Page, my guests visit Upper Antelope Canyon. If I have time, I scramble into Lower Antelope Canyon with my camera and tripod. (You can click it to see a larger version in my Photo Gallery.)

At each destination, I have two goals: get my guests to their tour or other activity on time and handle the luggage. Every day’s activity is different and may have free time around it. I need to get people where they need to be and make sure they know how to get around — especially back to the hotel — for the day. Once I set them loose, I won’t see them until the next morning when we meet for departure.

I’m in charge of their luggage. At most destinations, our rooms are not ready for us when we arrive. That means I Have to either check or carry around the bags but be back for check-in time. When I check in my guests, I get a key to their room and bring their luggage in. I leave the key and, on the first day, I leave the welcome package.

I do this every day. The goal is for my passengers to enjoy a scenic helicopter flight to their destination, worry-free transportation to the central area, and time on their own for tours and other unscheduled activities. Anytime after check-in time, they can go to the hotel’s front desk, give the clerk their name, and get their key. Their bags are already waiting for them.

Heck, why can’t I find a vacation like this?

I also handle any arrangements for parking the helicopter, such as getting fuel, putting on the blade tie-downs, preflighting for the next day, and cleaning the windows.

The next day, I meet my passengers at the predetermined time. Although they usually bring their luggage with them, I can fetch it if they want me to. Then we head on out for the day. Some days, there’s an activity in the morning; other days, we just go to the airport and fly out to our next destination.

We do this for six days with five overnight stops.

Sedona by Maria Langer

I made this photo in Sedona during one of my excursions. (You can click it to see a larger version in my Photo Gallery.)

To be fair, I usually have most evenings and early mornings to myself. Once the bags are stowed in guest rooms — always by 4 PM — as long as the helicopter has been tended to, I’m free. I hike at Sedona and the Grand Canyon, do photo flights for other folks at Lake Powell, relax and blog at Monument Valley, and stroll around town and enjoy Thai food in Flagstaff. I take a lot of photos. I blog. This coming trip, I hope to work on a novel.

I have a huge amount of responsibility — these folks have paid thousands of dollars for a dream vacation. It’s my job to make sure it doesn’t turn into a nightmare. I take that responsibility very seriously. What I’ve found is that by doing everything I can in advance, the trip goes much more smoothly. And the more trips I do, the more smoothly each one goes — although I admit that the first one back in 2006 was the smoothest one of all.

When It’s All Over

On the last day of the trip, I return my passengers to the starting airport and see them off. If they liked the trip — and they always do — I get a nice tip. Then I bring the helicopter back to base, clean it out the best I can, and put it away.

The trip is expensive, but so is flying the helicopter. I’ve recently introduced what I call “a la carte pricing,” to reduce some of the sticker shock. Instead of paying for the whole package up front, guests can simply pay for flight time and my overnight costs. Then they’ll be responsible for taking care of all the other arrangements — hotels, tours, ground transportation, etc. — for themselves. That would certainly take a huge weight off my shoulders. But unless the guests want to skip overnight stops and tours, it won’t save them any money. My margins are tight; I don’t make much on each trip. I seriously doubt whether they could do it for less without sacrifices.

To my knowledge, I’m the only helicopter operator in the country offering these trips. After reading what it takes to conduct one, can you get an idea why? If that’s not enough to explain it, consider this: each time I take the helicopter away for six days, that’s six days that I can’t do any other for-hire flying — other than the occasional photo flight at Lake Powell. So my revenue stream is basically turned off for those six days. Not many helicopter operators would be willing to take a helicopter offline for six days at a time.

If you’re wondering why I don’t just fly back to base each night, consider this: it costs more to fly the helicopter for an hour than it costs to stay overnight at any of the destinations. And since we’re always at least an hour — and as much as three hours — away from base, it simply doesn’t make sense to go home every night.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not complaining. I love doing the trips. I love sharing my knowledge of Arizona with my guests — especially folks from out of state.

And who could complain about an all-expenses-paid trip to five of Arizona’s most popular destinations — by helicopter?

Getting Away from it All

We spend a weekend at our “summer” place on Howard Mesa.

It’s no secret that central Arizona, near Phoenix, gets brutally hot in the summer time. Daytime shade temperatures in July and August typically 110°F or above, and you can add 20 to 30°F if you happen to step out into the unyielding sun. We realized after just a few short years in Wickenburg that we’d need a place to escape to.

I heard about Howard Mesa on a radio commercial advertising 10-, 36-, and 40-acre parcels near the Grand Canyon. Mike was away at the time — he telecommuted to a job in New Jersey and spent about a week and a half each month there — so I hopped in my Toyota and made the 154-mile drive alone to check it out. I was soon seated in a big sedan beside Larry, who would be our sales guy, driving up well-maintained dirt roads to the few lots that were still available on top of the mesa. I fell love with the second lot he showed me, a pie-shaped wedge near the mesa’s highest point. The wide “crust” of the pie shape was flat and bordered state land, where I was assured nothing could be built. The rest of the land dropped off gently toward the west. Every inch of the property was buildable, but the obvious building site was right before the dropoff, where an old two-track road used by ranchers and hunters led to a clearing, where a single cow rested in the shade of a pinyon pine.

The land was off-the grid — that means no electricity, water, telephone, gas, or cable television — five full miles from pavement and about ten miles from the nearest store where one could buy a quart of milk. Williams, AZ, which had a supermarket and restaurants, was 20 miles south. Valle, the crossroads of Routes 64 from Williams and 180 from Flagstaff, was 14 miles north. The entrance to Grand Canyon National Park was another 30 or so miles north of that.

It was the quiet, beauty of the place that hooked me. Not a single building was within sight — just rolling hills of golden grasses, studded with the dark green of juniper and pinyon pines. Once Larry shut off his Buick, all I could hear was the wind, with the occasional call of a crow or raven.

San Francisco PeaksBut it was the 360° views that sold me. To the north, is Red Butte and the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. To the west and northwest, are distant mountain ranges near Seligman, as well as Mount Trumbull on the Arizona strip 85 miles away. To the south is Bill Williams Mountain, just south of Williams. And to the east is snowcapped Mount Humphreys and the San Francisco Peaks, the tallest mountain in Arizona.

The price for all this amazing remote beauty? Less than $1,000 per acre. And our lot was priced higher than most others because of the view.

That’s how it all started. And what we realized just last night is that we’ve owned this place for ten years now. It was the Toyota that trigged the date memory. I bought my Jeep in the summer of 1999 and I was still using my Toyota as my primary car when we bought the place. That meant April/May 1999.

Our use of the place has varied over the years. In the beginning, we camped there on weekends in a pop-up camper, which we kept folded up on the property when we weren’t around. We had a round pen for the horses, which we’d bring with us. We got the entire 40 acres fenced in so the horses could run free. Then we began preliminary work on getting a house built. After a false start getting ripped off by Lindal Custom Homes — they told us we could build a home for $60/square foot but needed $600 to draw up the plans; the plans resulted in a home that would cost $120/square foot to build — we started exploring other modest custom home solutions. We had a septic system put in. I spent the summer of 2004 in a trailer up here while I flew for one of the Grand Canyon helicopter tour operators. And then, to give us a place to store our stuff while we were preparing to build, we put in what we call our “camping shed.”

And that’s where things got stalled.

You see, although I still love our place atop the mesa and would love to build a full-time residence up here, Mike thinks it’s a bit too lonely and remote. With so much going on for us in the Phoenix area these days, we don’t come up here nearly as often as we used to. To further complicate matters, the future of the area has become questionable. Much of the land up for resale and several property owners have put up commercial style buildings or trashed up their lots with a lot of junk. All this takes away much of the charm of the place. It seems senseless to pour a lot of money into a permanent residence when we’re not sure whether our new home will be looking out over a bunch of used shipping containers and broken down cars or another oversized Quonset hut or a second-hand mobile home left to deteriorate in the sun and wind.

Camping ShedSo we come up here on the occasional weekend and soak up the silence or the sound of the wind. If the nights are moonless, we can see almost as many stars as Hubble — or at least it seems that way — along with the distant glow of Las Vegas, 173 air miles away. Jack the Dog spends most of his time investigating the rocks, looking for lizards or pack rats, or chasing rabbits. Alex the Bird hangs out in his cage, playing with his toys and whistling along to the music on my iPod. Mike and I go for walks or do odd maintenance tasks to keep our camping shed in good condition. Sometimes we’ll go for lunch and a walk along the rim at the Grand Canyon. Other times, we’ll drive out to Flagstaff for some Thai food and to pick up some odds and ends in Home Depot or the RV repair shop. Still other times — like this weekend — we’ll just lounge in the shade on the camping shed’s “porch,” reading or talking.

Its restful — the perfect antidote for the poisons of modern civilization.

When I’m finished with this year’s cherry drying gig, I’ll probably spend a month or so up here with Jack and Alex. Mike will join me on weekends. I’ll work on the last of the three books I have contracted for this year. I’ll make day trips to Williams or the Grand Canyon or Flagstaff. I’ll enjoy the violent thunderstorms that roll through during monsoon season. I’ll take my Jeep to explore the forest roads bordering Grand Canyon National Park and likely find one or two new places to look down into that vast abyss without a tourist in sight. At night, I’ll look out at the stars and listen to the coyotes. It’ll be a simple life — an escape from reality.

Something I need more often than most people.