Snowbirding 2020 Postcards: “Camping” in Las Vegas

I make my last on-the-grid stop count.

I spent my second night on the road at the Sam’s Town KOA Kampground in Las Vegas. This has become a bit of a tradition for me. Since this is usually the last night I have an opportunity to plug in, get water, and dump my tanks before spending two more more weeks camped out in the desert with friends, I always opt for a full hookup campsite. This particular campground is convenient and usually — but not on this trip — cheap. This time, they hit me up for a very long drive-thru campsite that was a lot bigger than I needed, claiming shorter sites weren’t available. That turned out to be bullshit so I’ll probably look for a different destination on future trips south. $60 is a bit rich for an overnight stop.

I should say up front that I hate KOA-style “camping.” It’s not camping at all. It’s parking with a connection to water, electricity, cable television, and a sewer hookup. The sites are so close together I don’t know why they even bother with the narrow island of dirt and trees between sites that face each other. People who claim to be “camping” at a KOA are deluding themselves.

KOA
Here’s my rig parked between two others at the KOA. My space was over 70 feet long; all I needed was about 40.

But my site was about what I expected and it met my needs. I arrived long before sunset and got a chance to glimpse the sky’s changing colors through the field of RVs around me.

Sunset
As you can see in this photo, the weather cleared that afternoon and evening in Las Vegas. It was nice to see blue sky for the first time since my departure from home.

After taking Penny for a walk — her first since departing Glenns Ferry that morning — I hooked up power, sewer, and water and went in for the night. My nose had begun running earlier in the day and it was becoming apparent that I’d caught a cold. Although I did toy with the idea of going into Sam’s to look at their Holiday light show and maybe get some dinner, I recalled how sick I’d gotten after the last meal I had in their steakhouse. I decided to stay in for the night and was dead asleep before 8 AM.

In the morning, I felt rested but no better. I made and ate breakfast, walked Penny, took a hot shower in the otherwise empty shower building, put on clean clothes, and took my time about packing up. By 8:30 AM, with waste tanks empty and fresh water tank filled, I was ready to hit the road again for the last day of my drive.

Snowbirding 2020: The Drive Plan

Another trip down an all-too-familiar route.

Posts in this series:
The Big Plan
The Drive Plan

On Tuesday, I plan to start by drive to — of all places — Wickenburg, AZ. It’s a drive I’ve taken many times. After all, I started spending my summers up here in Washington in 2008, the year I got my first cherry drying gig. Back in those days, I’d make two drives north in the spring — one in my helicopter and a second in a truck pulling a trailer to live in. Then, at the end of the season, I’d make two drives home to get everything back to my Wickenburg hangar.

The Preferred Route

During those years, I tried all kinds of routes north or south and I discovered the one truth about the drive: the shortest route involves route 93 between Wickenburg and Twin Falls, ID and I-84 between Twin Falls and the Tri-Cities area of Washington. Ask Google Maps — it’ll tell you. And even if you don’t believe it, I can confirm in. I’ve driven just about every other possible route.

Map of Route
Google Maps knows the fastest routes. This map even shows the route 6 shortcut.

I-84 is a freeway that goes from Portland to Salt Lake City, leaving the relatively flat land of eastern Washington to climb the Green Mountains east of Pendleton, OR (of blanket fame) before descending southeast bound into the Boise, ID area and crossing rolling prairie land. The terrain climbs and descends again and again as I head south on the two-lane route 93 from Twin Falls, which I mostly stick to, taking advantage of a shortcut on route 6 between Ely and Crystal Springs, NV.

Route 93 is one of those remote roads that frighten city people. Towns aren’t much more than a handful of homes — if that. Gas stations are few and far between. If you miss a fuel stop you could be in serious trouble, waiting hours for the AAA guy to bring you five gallons. I’ve never run out of fuel on this route, but I’ve had more than a few close calls. If diesel wasn’t so damn stinky, I’d bring along a spare 5 gallons just in case.

Once I get to I-15, I’m back on the freeway and in very familiar area just outside of Las Vegas. Then, near Boulder City, NV, I leave freeways behind again for the long drive down route 93 to Kingman, a short stint on I-40, and more route 93 all the way down to Wickenburg. It’s 1,280 miles and should take about 20 hours with fuel stops if I stick to the speed limit — which I do when I’m towing these days. I used to be able to do it all in two days, with Jackpot, NV on Idaho’s border as my preferred overnight stop. That’s where I’d sleep in my RV in the truck parking lot outside of Cactus Pete’s casino. When the trip north stretched to three days due to weather or a late start or, in one case, illness, I’d try other overnight stops including a lakeside campsite at Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge just south of Alamo, NV; a casino parking lot in West Wendover, NV; a campsite at Farewell Bend State Recreation area near Huntington, OR; or a state park campground somewhere in the Green Mountains. I’m not opposed to overnighting in a Walmart parking lot, but I’d prefer not to.

The Challenge of Driving When Days are Short

Driving south in late autumn is a whole different story. I can’t do it in two days mostly because I prefer not to travel in the dark. That means it’s always three days and I need two stops along the way. So not only do I have to plan my route around the weather, but I should have a damn good idea of where I’m going to stop along the way to make cold weather camping bearable.

And that’s the challenge. My truck camper is not winterized and I don’t want its pipes to freeze. I also don’t want to worry about running out of battery power at night when the heater would likely run nonstop to keep the poorly insulated camper warm enough for me to sleep. The answer is to find a campground with a power hookup that’s right on my route, close enough to reach before it gets dark.

I found such a place last year: the tiny Three Island Crossing State Park in Glenns Ferry, ID. Although the water is turned off in this campground and the bathrooms are closed and locked, the power is still turned on and available. I can pull into a campsite, plug in, and use my quiet electric heater to keep the camper warm all night. I get the added benefit of being able to use my microwave to heat up some dinner and my electric coffee maker to make coffee in the morning. The forecast says Tuesday night’s low will be 25°F so I really will appreciate that electric hookup.

Three Island Crossing is 491 miles from Malaga and will take about 8 hours to get to with one fuel stop along the way. That means that if I leave here at 7 AM sharp, I’ll get there by 4 PM local time. Sunset there will be around 5 PM. I arrived after dark last year and left in the morning before sunrise so I never got a chance to actually see the place. It would be nice to see it this year. I plan on hitting the road long before the 8 AM sunrise the next morning.

The Las Vegas Stop

My next stop is a no-brainer of sorts: Las Vegas, NV. If you think it’s weird camping in Las Vegas, you’re right. It is.

I stay at the KOA at Sam’s Town. In general, I dislike KOAs — they’re glorified parking lots. But this isn’t a camping trip. It’s an overnight stop before I’ll be spending weeks off the grid. I found the KOA years ago and have been staying there every trip south since. I get a full hookup site, plug in, and get a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I use the clean, warm, completely underutilized shower facilities to get a good, long, hot shower. Then I top off my water tanks and dump my black and gray water. If I need propane, I buy it there and the attendant helps me load it back into the compartment where the tanks go. There’s Sam’s Town next door if I want a good dinner or breakfast that I don’t have to cook. There’s a Walmart across the street if I want to stock up on anything I might have trouble finding in the weeks to come. And if I get there early enough, I can take a free shuttle or an Uber out to the strip to see what’s changed since my last visit. I admit that the chances of that happening are minimal; the 555 mile drive will take about 9 hours with fuel stops and I’ll likely be exhausted after two full days on the road.

KOA Great Outdoors
This screenshot from an email confirmation is what prompted this blog post. I love the way KOA refers to a campground in Las Vegas as “the great outdoors.” 🙄

This particular stop — especially this year — will be my most expensive overnight stop this year, coming in at just about $55 for the night. Ouch. The reason it’s so costly: it’s not just my truck camper this year. I’ll be pulling my cargo trailer, which makes my rig a lot longer than it normally would be and really encourages me to find a pull-through spot. (Backing a trailer is hard enough when you can see it but it’s nearly impossible when a truck camper hides it from view.) Because most of the folks who stay at that KOA are driving big rigs — hence the underutilized shower facilities — all of the smaller pull-throughs are taken. The only one available was a 72-foot long spot. I shouldn’t have any trouble fitting my roughly 40-foot total length rig into it, but it’ll cost me. Big spots cost big money.

The high cost also encourages me to stay just one night when I might have stayed two. I haven’t really enjoyed a trip to Vegas in a while. I suppose I’ll have to wait for the next time HeliExpo comes to town.

The Home Stretch

The rest of the drive is very familiar. As I write this, I’m planning a stop in Wickenburg where I might be participating in a holiday art show. It’s still unclear on whether they have room for me; I applied late (as usual). If I’m in, I go to Wickenburg. If I’m not in, I might go straight down to our usual camping area on the Colorado River. That means taking route 95 south from Vegas, all the way into California at I-10 or possibly crossing the river at I-40 and heading south from Lake Havasu. I’ve gone both ways and they both work.

Either way, it’s a short travel day with less than 300 miles to cover so I’ll definitely get to my destination.

And by that time, I should be back in t-shirt weather with very few worries about keeping my camper from freezing overnight.

That’s the plan. Stay tuned to see if I stick to it.

Snowbirding 2019: The Long Drive

About 1,253 miles in three days. But who’s counting?

Posts in this series:
The Long Drive
At the Backwaters Campsite
In Mesa and Gilbert
A Quick Stop in Wickenburg and Forepaugh
Off Plomosa Road
• Camping at the Big RV Show
• A Trip to Organ Pipe with the WINs
The Tucson Gem & Mineral Shows
Wickenburg Gold Rush Days
• Constellation Park Interlude
• White Tank Mountain Park
Bumming It in Phoenix and Apache Junction
A Dose of Civilization
Return to the Backwaters

Note: I haven’t been blogging nearly as often as I should and I do need to apologize for that. I have some excuses. Do you want to hear them?

  • My 8-year-old laptop is so damn slow that it’s frustrating to use it. I ought to have bought a new laptop this winter, but I bought a Hobie kayak and a cargo trailer instead. (More on both in a moment.)
  • I discovered that the charger for said laptop sucks power out of my RVs batteries faster than my solar panels can put it back in so I haven’t been charging it. The idea of running a generator to charge a laptop is distasteful to me (although I do admit that I used it to charge all my drone batteries the other day).
  • I had seriously sucky Internet service for the first two weeks of my trip. (Of course, that didn’t stop me from getting on Twitter every single day.)
  • I’ve been extremely busy doing things other than sitting in front of a computer. (And isn’t that a good thing?)

Anyway, let me fill you in — as briefly as possible for me — on what I’ve been up to since I left my home in the capable hands of the best house sitter in the world on December 18. I’ll do it in multiple blog posts so I can bang them out more quickly and (hopefully) not put readers to sleep with a very long post.

– Maria


I took the fastest route from Malaga to my first long term campsite on the Colorado River. In case you’re wondering, that’s route 84 to Twin Falls, ID and down Route 93 to Las Vegas, NV. Because I really don’t like to drive in unfamiliar areas at night, I broke the trip up into three days and squeezed it into a weather window that called for some rain and high winds but no snow.

Fastest Route
Google knows its stuff. I’ve tried a bunch of different routes and this one is definitely fastest.

Sinclair
For some reason, Sinclair gas stations really crack me up. Does anyone else remember the old sitcom “Dinosaurs”?

The first day was Malaga to a state park in Glenns Ferry. I drove in light rain for the first half of the day, hitting the forecasted high wind right around Pendleton, OR, where I stopped for fuel and a late breakfast. I’d been a little concerned about my high profile vehicle — I’m driving a pickup truck with a relatively large Lance truck camper on top — but it didn’t really affect me as much as I’d worried. The truck drove well at the speed limit, which was 75 in most of Washington, 65 in Oregon, and as high as 85 in Idaho. (70 mph seems to be the most fuel efficient speed.) I stopped for fuel in Mountain Home right around sunset, so it was pretty dark when I arrived at Three Island Crossing State Park. From what I could see, there was only one other camper — a pull trailer with its lights on. I picked a site on the other side of the campground and backed in. Although the water was turned off for the winter, the electricity was turned on, so I could run my electric heater and use my coffee maker in the morning.

I left before dawn for day two, which took me into Twin Falls and then down route 93. Although 93 is only one lane in each direction, the speed limit was 65 and there was no traffic. I fueled up in Wells, NV and probably should have fueled in Ely. That made things a little tense when my thirsty truck’s low fuel warning came on in the middle of nowhere, NV. Fortunately, I found fuel in Ash Springs, a tiny town that might exist primarily as a fuel stop. From there, it was down 93 to I-15 and I-15 into my next night’s stop, the KOA at Sam’s Town Casino in Las Vegas.

I picked that campground for a few reasons. First, I know it. Second, it’s reasonably priced. Third, it has great, underutilized showers, which is important when your shower stall is your bathroom and you know it’s the only shower stall you’ll have for the next two weeks. Fourth, when I’m getting ready to start two full weeks off the grid, I want a fully charged battery, empty waste tanks, and full fresh water tanks — all of which I could get at a full hookup campsite.

I had dinner at Sam’s Town: a half-dozen oysters on the half shell, an end cut of prime rib which was too big to finish and wound up being fed to dogs over the next week or so, and cheesecake. I stuffed myself, which was a big mistake. Honestly, the prime rib wasn’t even good. I could have spent the same on a much better and lighter meal at MGM Grand; one of their restaurants has an excellent steak tartare.

Oysters Prime Rib
The oysters were amazing. I probably should have had 2 dozen of those and skipped the rest of the meal. Or not?

In the morning, I had a long, hot shower, took care of the waste and fresh water in my rig, and headed out, stopping at Walmart for bottled spring water and Trader Joe’s for other goodies on my way out of town.

I didn’t take the quickest route from Vegas to my final destination. Instead, I took route 95 to I-40, crossed, the river, and drove south on the Arizona side through Lake Havasu.

Clouds
The clouds were amazing as I drove down route 95 south of Boulder City toward I-40.

London Bridge
While I was at Lake Havasu City, I stopped for fish and chips at a restaurant near London Bridge.

You see, I’d been thinking about a Hobie inflatable kayak for about a year. I’d left home without my kayak and I wanted another look at the Hobie. At the Hobie dealer in Lake Havasu, I took one for a test pedal/paddle — it has a pedal drive — and bought it. Somehow, we squeezed it into my camper, which was already full with all the additional crap I had to bring south with me to show my jewelry at shows in Arizona.

I arrived in Ehrenberg, AZ around 3:30 PM and stopped at the post office, where I retrieved my box key and collected the mail already waiting for me. (I rent a box there every winter.) Then I drove south on the unpaved Oxbow Road, my fingers crossed. There were three sites I was considering; last year we’d been stuck with the last choice. This year, luck was on my side — I was absolutely thrilled to find my first choice campsite unoccupied. After debating with myself on how I’d park my camper to get the best view of the backwater channel while not completely isolating myself from a friend who’d be joining me, I backed in, dropped the camper’s legs, and pulled my truck away. If my truck could sigh in relief, I think it would.

Camper View
Here’s the view from my camper’s back door. I always try, when parking out in the desert to put something I’d like to look at out my back door where I can see it from my dining table.

My 1250+ mile drive was over.

The Long Road Home

I make my way home from my winter travels, slowly but surely.

I’m writing this in my RV at a campsite in Maryhill State Park in Washington State. As I so often do when traveling through the area, I arrived late enough in the afternoon to stop for the night. Yes, home is only a 3-hour drive from here, but I don’t like driving at night. I have come to use Maryhill as a sort of post-trip celebration spot, a place I wind down from a long trip and start getting myself mentally prepared for my return to home.

As usual, the campground is nearly empty and I got a nice pull-through spot along the river. There’s electricity and a sewer dump at my site, but the water is still turned off for the winter. That’s okay; I filled up my fresh water tank in Las Vegas before I left and have plenty of water left.

Away from the Camper

Las Vegas is where I went after my helicopter mishap on February 24. My truck, camper, and boat were waiting there for me in a “storage” site at the Sam’s Town KOA. Although I generally avoid KOA camping, I really do like the one in Vegas for what it is: city camping. With my small rig, I can take one of the double-width sites along the edge of the campground property and not be right on top of my neighbor. I’d parked the boat beside the truck and camper before coming home in mid February to fetch the helicopter and take it down to California for a frost contract. I was able to plug in to power, which saved a ton of propane for the fridge, and the KOA folks charged only $15/day while I was gone. It was good to leave my stuff in a place I knew it would be safe.

The original idea was to go right back to Vegas after tucking the helicopter into a hangar at Yolo County Airport, but the weather in the Sacramento area turned cold and I wound up in a Woodland motel for a week in case I had to fly for frost control.

I spent my days goofing off, going as far as Calistoga for a mud bath and facial one day. (I am a sucker a good facial.) I managed to visit two wineries for tastings before heading back.

When I finally got to fly, the flight was very short with a bad end.

After being discharged from the hospital’s emergency room, my friend Sean took me to see the wreckage and we pulled out the last few personal possessions I had in there. (Sean had already collected quite a few things.) We stowed them in the hangar. Then I drove my rental car to Sacramento Airport, dropped it off, and waited in the terminal for a Southwest flight back to Vegas. With no helicopter or frost contract, there was no reason to stay in Woodland.

In Las Vegas

I was back in my RV by 6 PM. As you might imagine, I had a little trouble getting to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see those damn trees in front of me. But putting the TV on seemed to help. And I eventually got a decent night sleep.

I took a full inventory of my bruises the next morning in the shower. That day — Sunday — is when the soreness really kicked in. I later learned that the helicopter impacted the ground at least twice before coming to rest against a small berm in the field where I crashed. I must have been like a rag doll in there with my muscles all tensed up from the adrenaline rush. (I don’t remember any of it, but without a head injury, I don’t think I passed out. It’s just blank.) Once my muscles relaxed a little, every single one of them got sore. The ibuprofen I was taking took the edge off.

I started the active part of my day by repositioning my truck, camper, and boat to a site on the south side of the RV park. It was a nice site with grass behind it — which is good since the camper’s door is in back. I hooked everything up — electricity, water, and sewer — since I’d be staying for the week.

I went to the convention center to meet up with my friend Zac from HAI (Helicopter Association International). The show wasn’t open yet, but he was in charge of guiding the helicopters in to land in the Convention Center parking lot. From there, they were wheeled into the building to be put on display. He got me an exhibitor pass so I could come in for a behind the scenes look at the show getting set up. Later, I joined him outside to watch (and broadcast on Periscope) a few of the helicopters that came in. It was fascinating and a lot of fun, but the walking really took a toll on me. By 5 PM, I was spent.

Show Girl
Eve didn’t like the location of the booth so she hired a model to attract attention to it during the show.

On Monday, I helped my friend’s Jim and Eve, who own Rotorcraft Enterprises, set up their booth at the show. Jim invented Start Pac, a battery device for helping to start turbine engines. He has since branched off into a bunch of other related products, including an APU for jets, a Start Pac for locomotive engines, and small battery devices to provide power when testing avionics on an aircraft. Jim’s a great guy — a former airline pilot who started flying helicopters in retirement. Like me, he lived in Wickenburg and left. I’m sure I’ve written about him elsewhere in this blog.

By the time we’d finished setting up, I was spent (again), but I went with them to lunch at a German restaurant near their office. Eating a good meal really picked me up. But I still went right back to the RV to relax. I slept a lot better that night.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were spent at Heli Expo. I chatted with Pat Cox and Tim Tucker at Robinson to tell them about the crash and show pictures. They were very interested and even dragged Kurt Robinson over to see them. They were certain that the helicopter’s bladder tanks, which I’d whined about installing, had saved my life. I talked to the folks at Hillsboro Aviation, which had sold me my R44 back in 2004, about a new helicopter; I’m still waiting for a price quote but seriously doubt I’ll replace it with a new one. (They’re a lot more expensive now!) I walked the entire show floor and found a neat video solution for tours and YouTube videos; I might take the plunge and get a setup this summer. I met up with numerous friends, including one of the few people who had flown my helicopter without me on board and my first flight instructor, who now works for the FAA. I also walked the show floor early one morning, before it was open to the public, to get some really great photos of some of the helicopters there without people hanging all over them. I posted them all to Twitter.

The MD Booth
There’s nothing quite like walking a trade show floor before the public is let in. This is a panorama of the MD Helicopter’s booth on Thursday morning.

I treated myself to dinner at the MGM grand on Wednesday evening before heading back to my camper. And I took a break from the show at midday on Thursday to treat myself to a cocktail and lunch at the Wynn resort. So much of my traveling this winter has been low budget, so it was nice to get a few doses of luxury.

A Parisol Down
I sat along the pond at the Wynn’s Parasol Down cocktail lounge. It was a nice, peaceful escape from the Heli Expo show.

On Thursday afternoon, the show closed promptly at 4 PM. By 4:15, they were wheeling helicopters out the door. I joined my friend Zac again with Jim and another Start Pac employee tagging along to watch the departures. I broadcast on Persicope and they featured the video so I soon had hundreds of viewers. I think a total of 10 helicopters left. The rest would leave the following day. Zac invited me back but I’d had enough.

Leaving Las Vegas

The next morning I had breakfast at nearby Sam’s Town Casino, then packed up leisurely and was on the road by 10 AM. It was wicked windy out as I headed down I-15 toward Los Angeles.

Camping at Lake Isabella
My campsite on the shore of Lake Isabella.

Although I usually drive through Death Valley on my way to Sacramento with my rig, I decided to take a more southern route this time, hoping to avoid snow in the mountain passes near Lake Tahoe. I was aiming for Lake Isabella, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. I arrived about a hour before sunset and got a nice campsite right on the lake.

Lake Isabella at Dawn
I shot this from my camper’s back door at dawn at Lake Isabella. It was an amazingly beautiful morning.

The following morning, I was back on the road. I think it was then that I realized how much I just wanted to be done traveling. So I made my way out of the mountains and joined route 99 north. I took that all the way to Sacramento, then hopped on I-80 to Davis.

In California Again

I stopped at the same hospital I’d been in the week before and checked myself into the ER. A number of friends had suggested that blood clots could be an issue. The bruises on my lower legs were horrendous with a few painful spots. Although I no longer needed ibuprofen for pain, I was starting to wonder whether I had a bigger problem than just bruises.

I stayed for about two hours. They did blood work and used ultrasound to scan my legs for clots. I got a clean bill of health but the doctor suggested that I get it checked again in a week.

I spent the night camped out at the hangar at Yolo County Airport. I parked right next to it. Around 2 AM, Sean arrived and sat in his car, waiting for a call to fly. I didn’t realize he was there until I woke at 4 AM. It was foggy out and the ASOS (Automated Surface Observation System) was reporting freezing fog. Even if he got a call, he couldn’t fly.

The fog was still thick when the sun rose. I got dressed for the day and went into the hangar to organize my personal possessions from the helicopter. I packed them in my truck for the ride home and said goodbye to Sean. I would not be back next year for a frost contract, but there’s a chance he’ll join me in Washington for cherry season this year.

The fog was localized; there was none north of Woodland.

I tried to retrieve my cockpit cover from the salvage guy, but it was Sunday and his place was closed.

I drove up to Williams to have lunch with another pilot fired of mine who was on a frost contract up there. I tolerated his mansplaining about how he finds his orchards in the dark. I deserved the lecture. But, at the same time, it didn’t really matter. I changed the subject.

I thought I might need to meet with the insurance adjuster and Sacramento FAA guy, but they didn’t need to meet with me. That meant I had no reason to stay in the area. So I left. I hopped on I-5, set the cruise control for 62, and headed north.

In Oregon

I tried hard to get to the Seven Feathers Casino in Oregon. Casinos make excellent overnight spots for RVers. They have big parking lots and good security. And being able to go in for dinner or breakfast the next morning is a real plus. But as the sun was getting close to setting, Seven Feathers was still about a hundred miles away and, like I said, I don’t like driving at night. (Besides, I suspect the boat trailer’s running lights aren’t working, although I know the turn signals and brake lights are.) So I wound up in a Walmart parking lot in Medford with about a dozen other RVers.

I walked over to the Outback Steakhouse and treated myself to a blooming onion, which I used to really like. They’re a lot greasier than I remember; I only ate about 1/3 of it.

The next morning, I was back on the road as soon as the sun was up and the overnight frost started to melt. Someone on Twitter had mentioned that the I-5 corridor was IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) and he wasn’t kidding. I drove for two hours through big patches of fog.

My first destination was McMinville Airport where a 2005 R44 was for sale. I had an appointment to meet with the owner at 11 AM. It was a 4-hour drive from Medford and I was a little late because I had to stop for fuel. I saw the helicopter, which is only a few months newer than mine was and it looked fine — but not like mine inside. I still haven’t decided if I’ll put an offer in on it.

From there, I drove another hour north to an Apple Store in Tigard. I had a heck of a time finding parking — the store was in one of those modern outdoor malls designed to look like a downtown area. Nice place and I would have loved to spend the day shopping there, but I had a mission. I needed to buy a new iMac. The one I have at home, which is now 7-1/2 years old, refuses to start. It had been on the fritz for about a year, but it’s now dead. I think it’s a logic board or possible a video card problem. It doesn’t matter. I’m replacing it.

I wound up with a 27-inch iMac. I had to wait while they expanded the RAM from 8 GB to 16 GB. I had lunch at PF Changs while I waited. I ate too much. There was a bit of a challenge getting the computer out to my truck, but the Apple Store folks were helpful. Then I was on my way again.

I hit some early rush hour traffic in Portland — by this time, it was about 3:45 — before getting on I-84 eastbound. This is a really pretty drive along the Columbia River in Oregon, past numerous waterfalls in the Gorge area. I tried two state park campgrounds along the way but both were “closed for winter.” I knew Maryhill would be open. I stopped for fuel one last time in Biggs, OR, then crossed the river and pulled into the site I am in now.

I fed Penny but skipped dinner; I was still full from lunch.

Today’s Drive

The sun is now up, illuminating the basalt cliffs west of the park. The wind turbines up there are glowing bright white but are motionless in the still air. The frost on the ground is just starting to melt. My camper is warm; the small electric heater I brought along has been running all night. My next door neighbors pulled out a few minutes ago; we’ll leave in less than an hour.

Campground View
The view out my back door this morning. Note the frost on my boat cover and grass.

It’s an easy drive up route 97 to I-90 near Ellensburg. From there, I’ll head east to Vantage, cross the river, and come up back roads from George through Quincy to Wenatchee. I might stop at Fred Meyer for groceries to save myself a trip later on.

My house sitter left last night so I’ll have my home to myself. The cats will come out to greet us. I’ll collect this morning’s eggs.

And then I’ll go inside and run the water for a nice, hot bath.

There’s no place like home.

Prepping and Planning for my Winter Migration

In waiting — and planning — mode.

Autumn is just about over. The leave are mostly gone and nighttime temperatures are dipping into the 30s. There’s been frost on the ground every morning. As the sun rises and fills the valley north of my home with light, odd little patches of evaporation fog form over the Columbia River 800 feet below the shelf where my home perches. I often stop my morning activity to watch, wishing I had one of my good GoPros around to create a time-lapse of the slow cloud formation and dissipation.

Of course, by the time that happens, I’ve already been up for a few hours. I’ve had my coffee and usually my breakfast. I’ve probably finished my daily journal entry and maybe even a blog post. I wake very early no matter what the season is, usually between 4 and 6 AM, although sometimes earlier. I’m a morning person and I have been for at least the past 20 years. It’s hard for me to believe that I had trouble attending 8 AM classes when I was in college. These days, by 8 AM, I’m usually ready for my mid-morning snack.

Sunlight and the Shadow Time

Living this far north — latitude 47.34° — the days start getting very short around the middle of October. By mid November, there’s only 9 hours and 15 minutes of daylight each day and we’re losing about 2 minutes of it every day. By the Winter Solstice, the sun is up for only about 8 and a half hours a day. That means the sun isn’t up for 15 and a half hours a day.

But worse than that is what I call the Shadow Time — the six weeks each year that the sun fails to clear the cliffs south of my home. For that brief period, sunlight does not shine at all on my house, although it does still reach out and fill the Wenatchee Valley. For the days leading up to the start of Shadow Time — December 1, I think — there’s less and less light on my house. Yesterday, there was about an hour of it starting around 1 PM. I love the way it shines into the high windows on the south side of my home, sending warm light at weird angles into my living space. But it’s weird looking out the north windows and seeing a big shadow in the foreground with the brightness of the valley behind it.

November View
I shot this photo yesterday afternoon from my deck. The clouds were great and the river was so blue. It’s a panorama for a reason — I cropped out the shadow in the foreground.

And I don’t have it bad at all. Some of my neighbors on the south side of the road have been in it for weeks already. Their Shadow Time lasts months. I can’t imagine living that long in the shadows, without the rejuvenating properties of warm, direct sunlight coming through the windows. Honestly, I don’t know why some of them built their homes where they did, especially when I see the occasional boulder coming down off the cliffs dangerously close to one neighbor’s backyard. It seems like it’s only a matter of time before one of those basalt columns lets go and ends up in their living room.

The Shadow Time is one of the reasons I go away for the winter. I’m a sunlight person — I need to be in the sun. That’s one reason why I like living on the east side of the Cascade Mountains. People think it rains a lot in Washington, but that’s not true. It rains a lot in Seattle. It doesn’t rain much here. And those short days turn into gloriously long ones in the summer time; it’s actually light out when I wake up and sometimes when I go to bed.

My goal is always to be gone during the Shadow Time and I’ve been pretty good about that for the past few years. But this time, I’m can’t get out quite as early as I hoped to.

Killing Time

So as November winds down, I find myself waiting for my departure date.

I’m spending much of my time at home goofing off and doing odd jobs around the house, with a few occasional forays down into town to catch a movie, have dinner or cocktails with friends, or run errands. My home and its menagerie — currently 13 chickens (including a rooster just learning to crow properly) and two garage cats (for rodent control) — are pretty much prepared for winter. There’s always something to do around here, but none of it is pressing and some of it has to wait until spring.

I’m also working on glass projects again — something I haven’t done for years. The goal is to create some recycled glass wind chimes for sale in Quartzsite, AZ in January. I’ve been working with my new kiln for a few days now but have had disappointing results. Apparently, I’ll be spending a few more days troubleshooting before I can start churning out new pieces.

And, of course, garage reorganization is something I’m always working on. I’ve still got boxes to unpack. I’m also prepping for a garage sale in the spring. I have a lot of stuff I don’t want/need anymore — some of it from my old home/life in Arizona. While Craig’s List has been instrumental in offloading the larger items, there’s a ton of little stuff I can sell cheap.

My helicopter business is slow this time of year — and only gets slower as winter creeps in. I do have a nice charter later this month; I’ll be working with two other helicopters to take a group of nine men on a flight to various points of interest (to them) around the state. I’m hoping our flight path takes us past my house; my next door neighbor’s kids love it when I fly by with other helicopters — they say it’s like an air show.

Then, of course, is the primary thing keeping me in the area: my December 3 flight bringing Santa to Pybus Public Market. This is a community service I do every year. (Last year was the first time I missed a flight but that’s because the helicopter was in Arizona for overhaul.) The last time I did it, about 300 kids and parents were waiting on the ground when we landed at Pybus in my bright red helicopter. There were photos in the newspaper. I usually shut down and stick around for a while so folks can come up to the helicopter and get their photo taken with it. I’ll do that this year if the weather cooperates.

Pybus Market
An aerial view of Pybus Public Market, shot with my Mavic Pro the other day. I land the helicopter in the corner of the parking lot in the lower right part of the photo, not far from the white building. One year, we rolled the helicopter into the main (gray) building where I left it on display for a week.

Of course, that doesn’t mean those are the only days I’ll fly the helicopter. There’s a pretty good chance I’ll take it out today. I have two wine club shipments waiting for me at Cave B Estate Winery down in Quincy. That’s an hour drive but only 20 minutes by helicopter. I figured I’d take a few friends down there for lunch — I fly for food — and pick up my wine while I’m there.

And the helicopter will go to California for its sixth season of frost control work, likely in mid February.

Going South

Once I’m done with the few things I need to do in the area, I’ll hop on a flight to Phoenix with Penny the Tiny Dog. My truck, camper, and boat are already down there waiting for me. With luck, a month from today I’ll be camped out on one of the Salt River Lakes, soaking up the sun while I explore the lake in my silly little boat.

I’ll spend Christmas along the Colorado River with some friends, camped out in the desert. The site I hope we get — we got it last year — has a boat ramp and easy access to a stretch of river that runs 76 miles from the Palo Verde Dam north of Ehrenberg, AZ to the Imperial Dam north of Yuma. I brought along my new tent and some tent camping gear so I can do overnight boat camping trips along the river. My friends are seriously into fishing and I know we’ll do some of that, too. Last year, we had fish tacos a few times. We have a campfire nearly every night; it gets cold but not too cold to enjoy the outdoors.

Sunrise at the River
We were treated to a few amazing sunrises during our stay along the Colorado River last year.

Then in January, we move to Quartzsite where my friend sells her artwork at a 10-day show at Tyson Wells. This year, I got a booth, too. I’ll be selling drone aerial photography services for folks camped out in the desert, as well as my recycled glass wind chimes (if I can get the problems with the new kiln worked out). It’ll be weird and it might not make any money, but I’m really in it for the experience more than anything else. Besides, my booth at Tyson includes a full hookup and it’ll be nice to get a bit of “civilization” after more than a month camped out in the desert.

After that, I’ll likely start heading north along the Colorado River with my truck, camper, and boat. I’m hoping to do some camping and boating at each stretch of the river between dams, all the way up to Hoover. I’ll definitely revisit Arizona Hot Springs — this time in my own boat — and tent camp for a day or two in the mouth of the canyon there.

In mid-February, I’ll come home (via commercial flight), fetch the helicopter, and take it down to the Sacramento area for its frost contract. From that point on, I’m “on call.” This is different from cherry season, when I need to stick around with the helicopter to be called out on a moment’s notice. Instead, I get my callout at least 12 hours before they might need me. That’s enough time to hop on a flight from wherever I am to Sacramento.

I’ll be in the Vegas area for a week or so in late February to explore Lake Mead, visit some friends, and see HAI’s big helicopter show. When that’s over, I’ll continue north and west, eventually ending up in the Sacramento area. I’ll stick around there, boating on Lake Berryessa and Clear Lake, wine tasting in Napa Valley, and hiking in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains until March. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a few callouts while I’m already there; this can really be lucrative when I don’t have to hop a commericial flight, rent a car, and get a hotel room. Then, depending on weather in California and back home, I’ll make my way back north. I did a coastal route last year, but I might try a more inland route this time. It’s all about going new places and seeing new things.

It’s the typical migratory route I’ve been doing with minor variations since 2013 but I’m going to make it count this year. It might be the last season I go to Arizona for the winter; I’m hoping to begin researching retirement destinations in Mexico, Costa Rica, Belize, and possibly New Zealand in future winter seasons. We’ll see.

Of course, I will be working every day. I’m writing a book about my flying experiences and am determined to finish it before I get home. So I expect to spend at least 4 hours at the keyboard daily — likely early in the morning — to knock out a manuscript. I’ll handle publication next spring.

While I’m gone my house will be in good hands. I have a house-sitter who will live there for the entire time I’m gone. We did a trial in October when I took a 2-week vacation south to visit friends, re-explore a few national parks in Utah, and reposition my portable winter home in Arizona. While I’m gone, he’ll make sure the chickens and cats have food and water and collect eggs. Maybe he’ll even put up my Christmas decorations, which I haven’t bothered to do in years.

Waiting

So I’m in a sort of limbo right now, waiting for my departure date to roll along.

I feel as if I spend most of my life waiting. In the old days, I was waiting for my wasband to get his head out of his butt and start enjoying life. It was frustrating, to say the least. The older I get, the less time I have left. Waiting for someone else was like idly watching my life slip by without being able to do anything to enjoy it.

Now, with him out of the picture, I do a lot less waiting and a lot more doing. I spend a lot of time traveling when I’m not busy with flying work. When I’m home, I spend my time building and learning new things. My life is much more full and interesting; my time is much more flexible.

But I still have responsibilities that tie me to my home, even if I’m not kept here by work. So I’m waiting for calendar pages to flip by again so I can do the few things I need to do.

And then I’m outta here.