Scavenging in a Landing Zone

Sunflower seeds, right from the source.

The other day, I had a helicopter charter from Wenatchee to Ephrata. My landing zone was a harvested sunflower field.

Parked at the Sunflower LZ
I parked not far from the end of the irrigation pivot for the field.

The ground was rough but frozen hard. I landed with my skids perpendicular to the furrows where the plants had been lined up during the growing season. Thick dried stalks littered the field and, as I came in for my landing, I wondered how many would become airborne and whether they’d cause me any problems. Some did stir while other pieces of the harvested plants got airborne in my downwash as I neared the ground. But there was no danger. I settled down so softly, my passengers even commented on it.

“Smooth,” one of them said as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

My two passengers climbed out as I began the cool down procedure. They walked around the front of the helicopter, well beneath the spinning blades, and met the men they’d come to see alongside the road. I watched them cross the street and disappear down a driveway.

It didn’t take long to cool down the engine. It was 1°C outside. I brought the blades to a stop and climbed out to survey my surroundings and take another look at the ground near my skids. It’s a habit I have on off-airport landings — checking the skids to make sure they’re free of objects or terrain that could cause a dangerous pivot point later when it was time to leave. And, of course, I took a few pictures; I always photograph my landing zones.

That’s when I found out what I’d landed on. From the air, I’d assumed it had been corn. But there were quite a few big, round structures in the field and it didn’t take long to figure out what they were: the seed heads of sunflowers.

The Seed Heads

The Sunflower LZ
This Google satellite view tells the story of a big round field with a draw running through it and a smaller field in the corner where I’d parked.

This part of Washington is farm country. While they mostly grow tree fruit and grapes in the Wenatchee area where I live, out toward Quincy and Ephrata and Moses Lake they grow a lot of row crops. The corner of this huge field had its own little irrigation pivot. I don’t know what they grew in the rest of the field, but this corner had been sunflowers, and lots of them. I could only imagine how beautiful they must have looked in bloom.

Now there were just scattered seed heads lying around. Like any machine-harvested field, some crops are left behind.

I got to thinking about those sunflowers and all the seeds that were embedded in them. Hundreds in each seed head. They obviously didn’t want them. If I grabbed a bunch, pulled the seeds off, and scattered the seeds around my 10 acre lot in Malaga, there’s a good chance I’d get a few sunflowers for very little effort. My bees would be very pleased indeed for the late season pollen and nectar source.

I started gathering seed heads. They were dry but dirty. The stalks on some were quite long. I pulled out my pocket knife and sawed them off.

I’d gathered four of them and had stowed them under one of the back seats when I got a text message from my client.

“You can come in if you want,” it said.

Usually, I sit out at the helicopter and read while I wait for my passengers. But usually, it isn’t 1°C outside. I realized I was cold. I closed up the back seat, put my knife away, grabbed my iPad, and traced their steps across the street and into the lobby of the nursery/packing house they were visiting. After explaining who I was, I settled down on one of the chairs there, took off my coat, and read.

The Seeds

I brought the seed heads home from the airport after our flight and stowed them in a big shoebox in the garage. (Now I know why I saved that box.) I wasn’t sure how wet they were and I didn’t want bugs in the house or mice among the seed heads.

Today, I took them out for a better look. They were quite beautiful in an old, post-harvest kind of way. They were brown — not black, as we’re so accustomed to seeing in snack packaging. I’m not sure if they were brown because of the dirt or because of the type of sunflower.

Sunflower Seed Heads
Seed heads in a shoebox.

Sunflower Seeds
Harvested sunflower seeds beside the largest of the four seed heads I brought home.

I picked one up and, holding it over the box, rubbed it roughly with my thumb. The seeds began to dislodge and fall off into the box. About ten minutes of rubbing cleared them off the three smaller seed heads. I figured I had about 2,000 sunflower seeds. The final seed head would likely add another 1,000 or so.

The plan is to let them dry indoors in the box. When I’m sure they’re good and dry — and I honestly think they already are — I’ll put them in a bag. In February, before I leave for my frost gig, I’ll scatter them all over my property, keeping about 100 or so to manually plant alongside my vegetable garden.

But before I do any of that, I’ll likely soak a few of these to make sure they sprout. After all, there is a chance that they’re hybrids grown for some specific purpose — oil, seeds, etc. — and that the seeds themselves aren’t fertile. I’ll know soon enough.

3,000 free sunflower seeds. Not bad for a bit of scavenging.

A[nother] Trip to Quartzsite

A quick trip to Quartzsite — perhaps my last ever.

I flew to Quartzsite, AZ on Tuesday with Penny the Tiny Dog. I wanted to visit one of my favorite weird desert destinations one more time before I move north to my new home in Washington State.

Quartzsite, in case you don’t know, is a tiny community in the desert right on I-10 a bit east of the California border. During the summer months, it has a population of about 3,600 people. In the winter, especially during the big RV show week in January, the area population grows to at least 50,000. Most of the winter visitors are RVers who live in trailers and motorhomes out in the desert on BLM land. They come there for the warm climate, but also for the continuous string of shows and swap meets in the area.

I’ve been going to Quartzsite for years. I really like going for a few days and staying in an RV out in the desert, but it was often difficult to arrange, given my soon-to-be ex-husband’s schedule. I bought my fifth wheel RV (the “Mobile Mansion“) there back in 2010 and that was the last time we stayed there overnight. Almost every year I managed to get at least one visit in. Last year, I visited for the day; my friend Janet was living there, selling her artwork at one of the Tyson Wells shows.

This year, a Twitter friend was staying in the area and I used that as an excuse to go out there during the RV show week. (I don’t know why I need an excuse these days; my life is finally my own to do as I please. But old habits die hard.) I didn’t feel like driving — it’s about 100 miles each way. So I went out to the airport, dragged the helicopter out, preflighted, fired it up, and took off with Penny on board in the passenger seat beside me.

It was an uneventful flight. A typically perfect Arizona winter day with temperatures forecasted to get into the high 70s, no wind, and no clouds. I had a bit of a problem with my door on takeoff — I’d lifted off with the door unlatched — and had to land in the desert about 4 miles west of town to close it properly. But then we were on our way, zipping across the desert about 500 feet up at 120 knots ground speed. Foreflight on my iPad told me we’d get there at 9:23 AM.

My landing zone (LZ) was a crapshoot. I honestly didn’t know for sure where I’d land. Quartzsite is surrounded by BLM land and I am allowed to land there, provided I don’t have paying passengers on board. But I wanted to get as close to Tyson Wells and the RV show across the street as possible. I thought I might try an empty lot south of I-10, but when I got near there, I saw a few trailers parked nearby and a man walking across the lot. Too much going on. So instead, I found a nice LZ a bit south of there. It was probably about a half mile from the traffic light just east of Tyson Wells.

Quartzsite Helicopter Parking

I shut down, put Penny on her leash, and locked up the helicopter. We walked over to the RV show. It was still early — only about 9:30 AM — and things were just waking up. That’s one of the things I like about getting to Quartzsite early; you get a real feel for the “behind the scenes” life of the vendors. Along the way, I got a text from my friend Jim in Idaho and decided to give him a call. We chatted while I walked around outside the big RV show tent.

By the time we finished, I was in the vendor area nearby, just outside a pet supply booth. I made my first purchase of the day: a new harness/collar for Penny. Finally she can stop wearing that kitten collar!

Artisan Village
One of the weirder vendor RVs at Tyson Wells.

We walked Tyson Wells next. The show was not nearly as big as it had been in past years — hell, Quartzsite has come a long way down since its glory years. There was still plenty to see and buy, including the usual collection of junk of interest to RVers. There were also quite a few bible and prayer booths. As I walked past one of them, a guy outside asked me if I wanted to participate in a “bible survey.” I said, “You don’t want to hear what I have to say,” and laughed as I walked away.

I looked at jewelry. I’m still trying to replace a pair of earrings I aways wore that my husband gave me. I simply can’t bear to look at them anymore. But I didn’t see anything better than the pair I’d already bought that were slightly too big for everyday use.

Forkman
Wouldn’t this be a great way for a caterer to display his business cards at events?

I bought a business card stand made out of flatware for a friend of mine who owns a catering company. I figured it would be a neat thing to put out at events to display his business cards.

I also bought an excellent, right-out-of-the-oven cinnamon roll without all that icky icing Cinnabon uses. Delicious!

In the meantime, Penny was trying to say hello to all the other dogs she saw — and there were a lot of them. Sadly, a lot of the smaller dogs were confined in dog strollers — if you can believe that — or being carried. Why won’t people let their dogs be dogs?

Finished with Tyson Wells, we walked back to the RV show. I wanted to buy a sign.

Last year, when I’d gone to the show, I’d bought five wooden signs designed to hang one under the other. The top one said “Mobile Mansion” and the bottom ones each had names: “Maria,” “Mike,” “Charlie,” and “Alex.” You see, my husband was supposed to join me on the road in the RV and I thought it would be fun to have these signs hanging outside to show who was in residence. It’s an RVer thing. I had them with me in Washington last summer and was having a sign stand made so I could hang them outside the RV. Of course, when my husband told me he wanted a divorce, I sent the “Mike” and “Charlie” signs back to him. Although I aways hoped I could get Charlie back, it doesn’t seem as if my husband will give him up. But I do have Penny so I wanted to have a sign made for her. I’ll hang the remaining signs when I go back to Washington and set up the RV again.

I found the wooden sign guy and placed my order. I paid him $15 and he told me to be back in an hour.

I put Penny in my tote bag with her head popping out. I didn’t want to carry her, but I knew that walking her though the big tent on a leash was not a wise idea. With her safely tucked away under my arm, we went inside.

Teeth Whitening at Quartzsite
For some reason, I found the teeth whitening booth disturbing.

Plug and Play Solar
Someone’s version of my husband’s idea: plug and play solar.

Inside the tent was a zoo: crazy crowded. Vendors were selling RV timeshares and providing travel information about various destinations. They were selling cooking appliances and utensils. They were offering massages and pain relief and teeth whitening. They were selling solar panels — including the “Plug and Play” systems my soon-to-be ex-husband had wanted to design but never moved forward on. They were selling clothes and cell phone cases and solutions to clean RVs. The whole place reeked of RV septic system fluid — like someone had dumped a case of the stuff on the floor. It was crowded with retirees shuffling from one booth to the next, making unexpected stops. I was very glad Penny was safely tucked away — she would have either been trampled or her leash would have tripped an old guy.

I looked at a cell phone case, but left without one when I realized they wanted $19.95 for the same thing I could buy at Tyson Wells for $6.

Turkey Leg
Smoked turkey legs, anyone?

Loaded Baked Potato
I call this lunch.

We exited back into the fresh air on the west side of the tent, right outside the smoked turkey leg booth. I took Penny out of the bag, set her on the ground, and got on line. My husband never left Quartzsite without a smoked turkey leg — he loved them. In fact, last year when I went without him, I brought a few back for him. I liked them, too, of course, although it was too much food for lunch. So I ordered one wrapped to go (which I’d eat for dinner over the next two days — they really are huge) and got a fully loaded smoked baked potato for lunch. Penny and I retreated back toward the outside of the tent, where we sat on a flattened cardboard box to eat in the sun. By this time, I’d stripped off most of my layers of clothing and was very comfortable in a tank top and jeans. (Yes, in January.)

Penny's Sign
The style and color of the sign is different, but last year’s sign man wasn’t around. The “Maria” and “Alex” signs are in my RV.

With lunch finished, we walked around the outside of the RV show tent again, eventually winding up at the sign guy. The sign was ready, although he had run out of the spray stuff he uses to protect it. I told him I didn’t want to wait for his companion to arrive with some, confirmed that the paint was dry, and stuffed it in my bag of goodies.

We were done and it was time to go home.

Dog Ice Cream Cone
How cool is this? An ice cream cone for dogs! It was about 3-4 inches total, including the ice cream on top.

I did want ice cream, but I didn’t want to wait on the very long line for the ice cream vendor outside the big tent. And I certainly wasn’t going to pay the other guy on the way out of the area $7 for an ice cream cone. But we did find an ice cream place not far from the corner with the traffic light. I got a huge 2-1/2 scoop serving on a waffle cone. And when they saw that I was with a dog, they gave me a tiny vanilla cone just for her.

We walked back to the helicopter. I did a quick preflight, added a half quart of oil — which I managed to spill quite a bit of — and climbed on board. A while later, we were airborne over the town. I managed to take one photo of the RV show and Tyson Wells area before turning east toward Wickenburg.

Aerial Quartzsite

We were back on the ground at Wickenburg Airport 40 minutes later.

It had been a nice day out — and possibly the last time I’d ever go to Quartzsite. I’d miss it.

Off-Airport Landing Zones

A helicopter is almost an all-terrain vehicle.

As a helicopter pilot with a reasonable amount of experience, I’ve been in many situations that required me to land off-airport. And although I prefer landing on pavement rather than on non-paved areas, sometimes I can’t find a stretch of pavement near where I have to land. That means landing on grass, dirt, rocks — anything nature presents to me that’s relatively level and can support a helicopter.

As a new pilot, I was uncomfortable with off-airport landing zones (LZs) that either weren’t well established — by being one of the approved LZs used by my flight school — or unfamiliar. But over time, as I became accustomed to finding my own off-airport LZs and landing there, I also became more comfortable landing off airport.

This is what experience is all about.

Yesterday’s LZ

During the winter months, I operate an R44 in Arizona. I have a few regular clients who call me out to do survey or photo jobs out in the desert. They don’t always meet me at an airport or anywhere near any kind of pavement at all. It’s up to me, as pilot in command, to identify and land on a suitable spot.

Like yesterday’s spot:

Desert Landing Zone

I posted an image like this to Twitter yesterday with the comment:

I love landing zones like this.

I got a rather funny response from @Instructor[redacted], someone I didn’t know, who said:

That’s a lot of loose rocks. How does the aircraft escape damage in that environment?

I don’t mean to poke fun at [redacted] — a guy that uses a headshot of himself wearing an aviation headset with boom mic as his profile picture, seeming to indicate that he’s a pilot — but come on now. Was he kidding?

And that was my response:

You’re kidding, right?

I don’t think he was. I can’t find his tweet in my @Mentions stream this morning; it was saved in my Twitter client on my cellphone, though. I assume it was deleted. Perhaps he realized belatedly how silly his question was. That’s why I won’t use his name here. I don’t want to embarrass him.

But I do want to clear up a few misconceptions about landing zones, for other new pilots and instructors who don’t yet have much off-airport landing zone experience.

Rocks Don’t Fly

I’ll admit it: my first response to @Instructor[redacted] was rather snarky, something like:

Rocks generally remain on the ground and don’t damage aircraft.

Maybe my Twitter client has a snarkiness filter that prevented the tweet from being sent. More likely, it was because I was near that LZ and my 3G connection sucked. In any case, as far as I can tell, my snarky response never went to Twitter.

Which is a good thing. Snarky doesn’t teach. It embarrasses and belittles. If it had been delivered, I would have felt compelled to apologize.

But the point is this: rocks don’t fly. They remain on the ground and other than possibly scratching up your skids or hooking a skid to create a dynamic rollover hazard on departure, they’re pretty much harmless.

The LZ in this photo has nice small rocks. While there are some tiny ones — the kind that get caught in the tread of your shoes and are tracked inside the aircraft, forcing you to use the ShopVac back in the hangar to remove them — most are fist sized or smaller. None of these rocks are small or light enough to become airborne from downwash — at least not the downwash caused by a landing/hovering/departing R44. I can’t vouch for what a Huey might do to them, but I’m pretty sure that although movement is possible, flight is not.

What to Look for in an Off-Airport Landing Zone

When I tweeted that I loved landing zones like this, I wasn’t kidding. This landing zone has all the components I need to make a safe landing:

  • Level terrain. While almost no off airport terrain is completely level, this one comes pretty darn close. So I don’t have to deal with the risks and concerns of a slope landing — which I absolutely hate doing.
  • Smooth ground. Instructor[redacted] probably didn’t think the LZ was very smooth ground at all. But in the grand scheme of things, it is. I have seen (and landed on) ground pitted with holes and mounds of rock and scrub. This piece of land looks almost as if it had been graded smooth.
  • Little dust. Rocks may not be a flight hazard, but dust is. With a ton of light dust, brownout conditions can occur on landing. I blogged about that here. With any amount of dust, the hazard is to the aircraft’s rotor blades. Dust is extremely corrosive and simply takes the paint off the blades. The more dusty landings, the less paint on the blades. Eventually, the blades need to be repainted. Mine have been repainted twice in 1350 hours and might get painted this week again. (It’s in for its annual now and I’ll let the mechanic decide; I think it can go another 6 months.) I should point out that simply landing in a mildly dusty area is not going to “damage” the aircraft to the point that it’s not flyable. (Actually, there’s a lot to say about dust and the potential for aircraft damage; it’ll make a good topic for a future post.) This LZ was not dusty at all, partially because it had rained a few days before and partially because the area was not trafficked.
  • Good size. Although the area is surrounded by low bushes — mostly creosote — there’s enough clear area for my skids and tail rotor, as well as space on either side for pilot/passenger access.
  • No obstacles. Sure, on the way in I did have to thread my way between a few tall saguaro cacti and a decent-sized palo verde tree. But there were enough options on my approach and departure paths to make a safe go-around if I needed to abort the landing. Departure would require more altitude than on a runway/taxiway, but not enough to qualify as a max performance takeoff over obstacles. Indeed, I was able to make my takeoff run at about 10-15 feet AGL, pretty darn close to the suggested profile of the Height-Velocity diagram for my aircraft.
  • Photographic. Okay, so that’s not required for a good landing zone, but it is something that turns a good LZ into one I love. Why? So that when I share photos like the one above to help educate people about what helicopters can do, I can also show off how pretty the desert is. (And yes, how pretty my helicopter looks parked in it.)

So yes, I love this landing zone. Any helicopter pilot who has landed in worse places would.

In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that there’s nothing really wrong with this landing zone. It’s about as perfect as an unpaved off-airport landing zone could be. Hell, I’ve had on-airport landing zones that were less suitable than this.

Flight Instruction Failures?

And that brings me back to Instructor[redacted] with his headsetted face smiling out at Twitter users. Here’s a guy who appears to be a flight instructor, teaching other pilots how to fly. Yet he asked a very silly question that demonstrated his complete lack of knowledge and experience about landing zones.

And that bugs me.

People doing flight instruction should have better knowledge about what a helicopter can and can’t do. They should be able to identify what makes a suitable off-airport LZ.

I can only assume that this CFI was not properly trained. Perhaps his CFI lacked the same knowledge and understanding about off-airport LZs. Perhaps every CFI (and pilot) coming out of that flight school lacks this knowledge.

Does that mean these pilots won’t learn how to find and identify a suitable LZ until they get a job that requires them to do off-airport landings? If so, the flight school is doing a serious disservice to its students and their future employers. After all, when a pilot has the 1,000 hours of pilot-in-command flight time that most employers want, shouldn’t they already have the basic skills and experiences the employer should expect them to have? Isn’t landing off-airport one of those skills?

Maybe it’s because my flight school was based in Arizona and there are so many places to land out in the desert, but we were taught right from the start about off-airport landings. In fact, I can’t recall ever thinking that it was unusual to land somewhere other than at an airport or helipad.

After all, we’re talking about a helicopter here.

(I feel a major rant coming on, but I’ll stop right here, take a deep breath, and finish up instead.)

I hope Instructor[redacted] reads this. I hope that he understands that I’m not trying to poke fun at him or insult him. (After all, I did redact his name so he can remain anonymous.) I hope he learns from what I’ve written here.

But more important than that, I hope he talks to the Chief Flight Instructor at his school about their failure to properly educate him about off-airport LZs. I hope he helps them add some material to their curriculum to better educate their other students, pilots, and CFIs.

It’s a flight school’s job to churn out pilots — not guys and gals with pieces of paper that say they’re legal to fly. I sure do wish more flight schools would take that job seriously.