Chasing Race Cars

2009 Edition.

I did another flying gig out at Parker AZ again this year. It was wicked windy on the ground when we took off — so windy, in fact, that a Bell Jet Ranger pilot refused to fly. (I didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, I’m not flying a Bell.)

About 100-200 feet up, however, it was dead calm and I was able to do just about any maneuver the camera guy needed. I had an excellent observer on board who kept an eye out for wires and other helicopters without freaking out when I intentionally got close to either one.

For the first flight, we chased the truck featured in the video below, as well as a dune buggy like car. I don’t know the technical terms for any of these things — I’m a pilot, not a dirt racer.

For the second flight, it was windy. We were videoing the guys coming into their pits and a lot of hovering was required. I could only hover when pointing into the wind, which was gusting to 28 knots. When we flew around the trucks in the “Python” area of the course, I couldn’t fly slowly enough with a wind up my tail so I did a lot of circling, keeping the target where the camera guy could keep his camera on it.

In case you’re wondering, our usual setup is to have the camera guy behind me with his door off. (If it were warmer, I probably would have had my door off, too.) This makes it easy for me to see what he sees and keep the car in sight. The observer sits up front next to me. Although I keep a good eye on what’s around me, he’s a second pair to make sure I don’t miss something important.

After the second flight, I could see that bad weather was literally minutes away. After putting the doors back on and estimating that I had enough fuel to get home, I took off. I called the airport later to pay my fuel bill and was told that the downpour started 10 minutes after I left.

I flew a total of 3.9 hours, including ferry time. Judging from the video, I think the guys got just what they wanted.

Literacy Might Be a Good First Step

I’ve received messages and comments that were barely literate, but this one takes the cake.

I just received the following e-mail message from someone who had likely read one or more of my posts about flying helicopters or the helicopter job market:

Bare in mind that I have never flown a acraft of any type before…… I want to get into flying a turbine helicopter (of my owne) and I live in Mississippi. Everything I find online about schools is very, for lack of a better term eather full of crap and or confusing as all hell. and there are more schools than you can shake a stick at, but all have a list of requierments a mile long just to take a class. I ask you because you are already a pilot, and might atlaest be able to give me a guide line and rough idea with out all the bullcrap to confuse it. I need to know what I have to do to get a helicopter pilot licence, both for comercial and privet flying. where I can go to do so. and a high ball estimit of what it will cost me. could you please help me on this matter?

I did not edit the above. This is exactly how I received it, copied and pasted into my blog editing software.

Those of you who don’t see a problem with the above…I have one question: what the hell are you doing here? My writing must seem like Greek to you, since I tend to write at a Grade 8 level or higher.

While I don’t know anything about the age and background of the author of the above (other than the tell-tale Mississippi comment), I like to think that he’s in at least eighth grade. (And, for the record, although I live in Arizona, I didn’t go to school here.)

I had to read it three times to understand what he was getting at. I can see why he finds online information “confusing as hell” — his understanding of properly spelled words in the English language is likely minimal.

This is the kind of e-mail I get sometimes.

You know, I want to help people achieve their dreams. I really do. That’s one of the reasons I blog about the things I do. I can do these things, so it follows that other people can, too.

But I can’t tell people how to perform miracles.

This guy is doomed before he starts. I know that if I were hiring and someone sent me an e-mail or cover letter or (heaven forbid) resume with as many errors as the above message, I wouldn’t even bother to answer it. This guy’s failure to put together a single error-free sentence makes me wonder how he’ll fare when it’s time to study the POH (that’s Pilot Operating Handbook) for the turbine helicopter he wants to fly.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you cannot get anywhere in life without basic communication skills — including writing skills. These days, with spelling and grammar checkers built into half the writing software out there, there’s no reason to send out a communication like the one above.

You want a career as a pilot — or anything else? Learn how to communicate first.

And, for the record, it is not my intention to ridicule the author of the above. If I wanted to, I would have included his name and e-mail. (Even I’m not mean enough to do that.) I’m just using his communication as an example. I’m hoping that my e-mailed response to him — that it’ll cost $40K to $80K to get the ratings he needs to fly helicopters for a living — scares him into more reasonable aspirations.

Like getting his GED.

Landing Zones: Full of Bull

First in a series of photos of unusual landing zones.

One of Flying M Air’s clients owns a ranch in the Wickenburg area. He occasionally hires me to transport people from Wickenburg Airport to the ranch, wait for them to finish their business, and fly them back.

It’s a 45-minute drive on washboarded dirt roads to get to the ranch from town. But it’s only a 6-minute flight. I have a half-hour minimum for flight time (out of Wickenburg), so I usually include a “free” flight around town on the return trip. I don’t charge for waiting time, since they’re seldom onsite more than 30 minutes.

Anyway, the ranch has grazing cattle, which I wrote about in another blog post. On one recent flight out there, a pair of bulls were munching on some hay right near my landing zone. My landing didn’t bother them, and neither did my departure. And they didn’t seem the least bit interested in me as I walked around them to get this photo of them with my helicopter in the background.

I figured I’d start collecting weird LZ shots like this one for my blog. What do you think?

Bulls in the Landing Zone

Posts in this series:

On Stiff Mixture Control Arms

The saga comes to an end…I hope.

If you follow the helicopter-related posts in this blog, you may know that I’ve been having a problem with my helicopter’s mixture control. My usual interface with this device is the red knob with a button on my instrument panel. Push the knob to get fuel flowing. Pull the knob to shut down the engine. Don’t mess with the knob in flight.

Simple enough, until it got stiff and then broke. I wrote about it here and here.

Mixture Control ArmTurns out, the reason the mixture cable became fractured is because the mixture control arm (lavender in this image) on the fuel control was too stiff. When I pushed or pulled the mixture control in the cockpit it was buckling and fraying. Pushing it in may not have resulted in full rich fuel, which could result in the engine running hot and lead to even more problems.

Good thing we caught it!

Fuel ControlEd, Wickenburg’s very best airplane mechanic, followed up by pulling the fuel control and fixing it, following instructions of the device’s manufacturer in Wichita, KS. Here’s what it looked like sitting on his workbench with the offending arm removed for repair. This is a lot more of my helicopter’s innards than I usually like to see. But it was interesting to see the piece I’d found an illustration of for this blog (see above) in a place where it was clearly recognizable.

Ed has since put everything back together. I was busy yesterday with the Endurance Ride, so I didn’t fly. And I don’t want to bother Ed on a Sunday. But come tomorrow morning, I’ll be at the airport with the helicopter out on the ramp. I’ll start it up and Ed will likely look at everything from below as its running to make sure the mixture is indeed full rich. I’ll pull the mixture and he’ll watch it work. And then he’ll sign off on it.

And give me a bill. (Ah, the joys of aircraft ownership!)

Of course, if things don’t go as planned, you’ll likely read more about it here.

No Flying this Weekend

It could be worse.

Robinson Mixture ControlThe other day, I reported a mechanical problem with my helicopter. In summary, the mixture control had been kind of stiff and it made a weird noise when I pulled it out. When my mechanic attempted to lubricate it, the mixture cable snapped.

The photo here shows a Robinson Raven II instrument panel very similar to mine. I’ve circled the mixture control. Remember: push in to allow fuel flow, pull out to stop fuel flow. Airplanes have similar controls. Airplane pilots adjust this in flight — that’s called leaning the engine. Helicopter pilots generally do not do this. It’s either in and the engine is running or out and the engine is stopped.

I didn’t make a big deal out of it then because it seemed to be a simple enough fix. We ordered the replacement cable from the factory and I figured that Ed, my local mechanic, would get that sucker installed not long after it arrived.

The more amazing thing to me — at least at the time — is that I’d proactively found and set about resolving a minor mechanical problem before it got me stranded somewhere inconvenient. The timing couldn’t have been better. The day before, I’d written an article for HeliNews about that exact topic. I was pleased that I’d learned a lesson.

Mixture Control SchematicWell, things are never as easy as they should be. Ed got the cable and went to work installing it. He soon ran into problems. The cable wouldn’t move smoothly. It wouldn’t go in all the way. He’s pretty sure we’ll have to order the entire cable assembly today. (This image, taken from Robinson SB-55, shows where the mixture cable attaches to the fuel mixture control. I highlighted the cable and its sheath in red. We ordered just the cable and it is apparently having trouble moving in the original sheath.)

Today is Friday. Although they could overnight the part for Saturday delivery, Ed doesn’t normally work on Saturdays. So I’ll save a few bucks on shipping and get it delivered Monday. With luck, it’ll be just what Ed needs and he can install it then.

Until it’s installed, there’s no flying for me.

But that doesn’t seem to matter much. I have no flights scheduled for this week and I have plenty of writing work to do. (I’m developing my third course for Lynda.com and have an open request for short how-to articles to fill for one of my publishers.) This weekend, I’m volunteering at the annual Land of the Sun Endurance Ride by marking horse butts with numbers, making my famous vegetarian bean soup, and timing in the 50-milers at the 25-mile manditory break. It’s almost a good thing that the helicopter is down for maintenance; less of a distraction for me.

I do want it running soon, though. Murphy’s Law of helicopter charter operations states that the most calls for your service will come in when you’re least able to meet customer needs. It must be a sign of the economy that my phone hasn’t started ringing off the hook yet.