Helicopter Flight Up the Salt River

A video from the Flying M Air YouTube channel.

Here’s a cockpit POV view looking out the front window between me and my buddy Woody as we flew from Falcon Field (FFZ) in Mesa, AZ all the way up the Salt River to Roosevelt Lake. The cockpit intercom audio did not record [insert eye roll emoji here] so I wound up narrating it in the editing process.

I want to give a HUGE shout out to the channel members and Patreon patrons who made this flight possible — I had to rent this helicopter to do the flight and make the video.

You can see Woody in a tour of a King Air airplane in this video: https://youtu.be/1cylLFqhnzg

Snowbirding 2020 Postcards: Arizona Airplane Flight

I get to ride in the back seat of a small plane behind two generations of pilots.

I spent the last day in January at Falcon Field airport in Mesa, AZ, hanging around with some friends who own a flight school. A highlight of the day was a trip up to Payson, AZ in a Cessna 182 for lunch with my friend Woody and his newly minted private pilot daughter Lindsay.

I’m not a big fan of small airplanes, partly because you can feel turbulence so much more in a plane than a helicopter and partly because I’d spent more time than I wanted to as a passenger in my wasband’s Grumman Tiger with him at the controls. He was a nervous pilot who constantly chased the RPM with the throttle in flight and didn’t let me talk if the air wasn’t perfectly calm. I often got the impression that he was overwhelmed with the task and, because of that, I was never really confident of his skills. Since I don’t fly airplanes, takeoffs (with a stall horn blaring) and landings (which were seldom on the runway centerline) terrified me. I may have screamed once on a particularly bad landing in Wickenburg.

Painted Tower
Back at Falcon Field, I managed to get a halfway decent shot of the artwork painted on the Falcon Field tower, which is visible from the runway.

Fortunately, I have a lot of pilot friends with a lot more experience and, therefore, skills and confidence. Woody is one of these friends. A retired airline pilot who loves to fly, Woody has flown a wide range of aircraft, from tiny Pipers and Cessnas to Boeing and Airbus airliners to Robinson and Schweizer helicopters. If you follow my FlyingMAir channel on YouTube, you may have seen him showing off the King Air he flew up to Washington with his dog and another pilot to spend a week with me. In the past 8 years or so, I’ve flown with plenty of experienced airplane pilots like Woody and I find it an enjoyable, worry-free experience — as long as the turbulence isn’t too bad.

So when Woody invited me to join him and his daughter for a flight up to Payson for lunch, I was all in. They were flying our friend Jan’s Cessna 182, which was a complex airplane. Lindsay had just gotten her private pilot certificate and was on a training path to become an airline pilot. She needed to build experience and get endorsements for a variety of airplane types and the complex Cessna was the first challenge. She sat on the left (the pilot seat in most planes) and Woody sat on the right. I sat in back, which was surprisingly roomy.

Jan's Cessna 182
Jan’s Cessna 182.

The flight was uneventful, although there was just enough turbulence to remind me that I was in a small plane. Woody let Lindsay do all the flying, providing firm instruction when needed but never touching the controls. Lindsay was focused and trying hard to do everything perfectly, but she had the air of someone who was knowledgeable and confident. Our landing in Payson was a bit bumpy, but she greased it back in Mesa. I didn’t hear a stall horn once. Along the way, I was reminded about how poor the visibility is our the front of an airplane with that big fat engine and propeller blocking the view.

Lindsay Takes Off
Lindsay and Woody, side by side on takeoff at Falcon Field. I think Woody was really proud of her — and he should be!

Bartlett Lake
I took pictures and shot video all the way up to Payson and back. I’m not sure, but I think this might be Bartlett Lake along the Verde River.

We parked and got out at Payson, which, because of its higher elevation, was a lot cooler than the Phoenix area. We went into the nearly deserted airport restaurant and had lunch. My patty melt was delicious and huge; I took half in a to-go box. We wanted to buy t-shirts, but they only had size Small left.

Payson Airport Restaurant
The restaurant at the airport was nearly empty when we arrived.

We headed back to Mesa right after lunch — there wasn’t anything else to do at the airport. I got a chance to admire Lindsay’s radio skills. I was a little envious. She was so young, with her whole life ahead of her and a dad to help guide her into an interesting and rewarding career. I complemented her on her flying skills and wished her the best of luck with her training and future.

Phoenix Festival of the Arts

I participate in an art show in Phoenix.

I was set up as a jewelry vendor this past Friday through Sunday at the Phoenix Festival of the Arts in Phoenix’s Hance Park.

Hance Park is also known as “the deck park” because it’s the park that sits atop a tunnel where I-10 runs under Phoenix. (It’s a park on the top deck of the tunnel.) It’s a bit of a pain to set up and tear down because they limit the number of vehicles on the deck and if someone selfishly sets up while unloading — rather than unloading, moving a vehicle out of the park, and then setting up — there’s a long wait to set up. Parking outside the park was supposed to be a problem, but I didn’t have any problem at all. I always arrived early enough to get a good spot on the street less than a block away. For tear down, however, I couldn’t get my truck into the park timely so I wound up parking in the nearby library lot and taking my gear through a gap in the fence that someone had opened. It saved me a lot of time, but I had to carry each of my 40-pound tent leg weights separately. I felt it in the morning.

The event included at least 80 vendors, most of which were selling handmade goods. There were a lot of potters and jewelers, some woodworkers and metalworkers, a handful of photographers, and some painters. The rest were making a variety of other handmade items, some of which were impressive pieces of art while others fell into the category of granny crafts. There were also more than a few vendors who shouldn’t have been there at all — folks selling obviously buy/sell merchandise they didn’t made like salt scrubs and salsa and garlic grating dishes. It was a typical mix for an event that was apparently setting a low bar for vendors and lucked out by getting some good ones. I’d say that my work was neither the best nor the worst, which is a spot I don’t mind filling.

Because the booths were set up in quads, we were all able to have our booths open on two sides. Technically, I could have been open on three sides because I was in the last row, which just had paired booths. But I went with two sides and had a nice walk-through booth. I put my pendants on the back table, logically with the cases of stones that I use to make pendants. I had earrings in three places, including the back of my large hinged display on an island in the open corner of the booth.

First booth setup
My initial booth setup on the first day of the show.

Oddly, the only thing I sold that day were earrings — six pairs. No pendants, no bracelets, no rings, no stones. I suspected it was because of the booth layout so on Saturday morning, I reorganized to move the pendants closer to the front of the booth and reorganize the earrings to both sides of the hinged display.

Booth 2
My booth setup for the second and third day of the show.

I’d put up my shade extension on Saturday morning but quickly realized that it was causing people to walk around the front of my booth instead of coming in. So I pulled it down. People came in. (Go figure.) From that point on, I did relatively well, selling a mix of pendants, earrings, and rings.

I was satisfied with sales at the event, but not thrilled. All my costs were covered and I made a little profit, but I’m not convinced that my time wouldn’t have been been better spent at camp, making more jewelry in my mobile shop. As it was, I sold out on all of my most popular earring styles; I’ll definitely need to make a lot more for my next show in January.

I’d been accepted to two shows that weekend but had chosen this one because it was a three-day event instead of a two-day event. I think it was also a little cheaper. Next year, I might try the other show, which I think was in Tempe, AZ.

As an event for people wanting something to do on a December weekend in Phoenix, I recommend it. With art vendors, mural painting, live music, and food trucks, it was a great way for people — including families — to spend an afternoon.

Snowbirding 2019: A Dose of Civilization

After too much time cooped up in the boonies in my camper, I get back to civilization.

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

I woke up to another beautiful Arizona day. The storm that had soaked and snowcapped the state the previous week was long gone.

I checked the map and realized that the road I was near — Bush Highway — wasn’t really close to the one I needed to be on — Beeline Highway — to get to Fountain Hills. Oops. No matter. Instead of having a 20 minute drive, I’d have a 40 minute drive. It wasn’t like I was in a hurry. My destination was the big art show in Fountain Hills where my friends Janet and Steve were showing and selling Janet’s paintings. They’d been just about rained out on Friday but Saturday had been a good day for them and that day, Sunday, looked like it might be good, too. As long as I got there before 10 AM, I’d likely find a parking space for my rig. Other than that, I was in no hurry.

McDowell Sunrise
Mother Nature treated us to a nice sunrise. That’s Four Peaks again in the distance.

My Rig
My rig in its overnight campsite. I had to make an approximately 160° turn to get out of there.

After a light breakfast, I packed up my grill, which was about the only thing I’d taken out, and headed out. My biggest challenge was getting my camper pointed down the narrow road I needed to be on; it took several moves to make the turn.

At the gate, I had to unlock it and get it opened to leave. Someone was waiting right behind me and I was very happy to see him stop and close the gate once we’d both pulled through.

Wild Horses

Rather than double back toward Phoenix, I decided to continue east along Bush Highway until it met up with Beeline and then head west from there. It was a very pleasant drive with great views of Four Peaks and other snow covered mountains.

It wasn’t long before I started seeing signs indicating that I was in a wild horse area. From road signs to signs painted on the road itself, I was repeatedly warned that there were wild horses around. I looked. I didn’t see any.

Until I did. About a mile or two short of Beeline, at least a dozen horses in all horsey colors grazed on a hillside near the road. People had stopped with cameras to take photos. If the parking situation had been a little better, I probably would have stopped, too.

Wild horses have become a bit of a problem in the west. You see, unchecked, their populations explode, with herds all over the state. I knew from flying in Arizona for so many years exactly where I could find them: along the Gila River west of Chandler, along the Verde and Salt Rivers east of Phoenix, west of I-17 not far from Prescott Valley were just three places. I’d also flown over them in remote areas of Nevada, Oregon, Idaho, California, and Washington. I’d even been hired by the Yakama Nation to help them round up horses the previous spring.

While there’s some sort of romantic notion that wild horses belong in the west, there are clearly too many of them. In Washington, on the Yakama Reservation, their populations grow beyond available food supplies, leaving them to die of hunger during the late summer and through the winter. They’re also competing with cattle for grass and water, which isn’t a good thing for the cattle industry. Although some groups are able to round up and auction off some of the horses, that’s an expensive proposition and there aren’t too many people who want a wild horse.

What’s the answer? In my opinion, population control through sterilization. I’d hate to see the horses shot — although there are apparently people who think this is a viable solution. But because all solutions cost money and money can be really scarce to fight problems like this, it’s more likely that nothing sufficient will be done and the problem will continue to plague the west.

Anyway, I didn’t stop so I don’t have photos. Sorry.

At Fountain Hills

The community of Fountain Hills seemed to be still asleep when I arrived at around 9:30 AM. I drove into town on the main road until it ended with a road block for the Art Show. Then I turned right and slid into some curbside parking on an otherwise empty street. I figured I was about 3 blocks from where I had to go.

Penny and I cut through a few parking lots until we homed in on Janet and Steve’s rig parked in a private parking lot right off the fair area. Steve was inside, getting ready to go. Janet was already at the booth. Steve pointed. We went.

Most of the booths were still closed up, although a few showed some signs of opening. The event started at 10 AM but Sundays are usually a slow start day because so many people go to church.

I watched Janet finish opening her booth. She had a single booth at this show because of its high cost. Rather than fill it with both her acrylic paintings on feathers and oil paintings on canvas, she’d stuck with her feather art, which seems to sell better anyway. Her booth, as usual, looked incredibly professional with its solid gray panel walls and other display components.

When Steve joined us, we walked the show together. It was huge. About 75% of the booths were open at 10 AM; they were all open by the time I walked it a second time more than an hour later. In general, the quality of the work on display was pretty darn good, although there were a few too many buy-and-sell vendors. (Honestly, I counted four vendors selling the same damn ceramic garlic grater under different names.) I should mention here that there were actually three shows: the main show Janet was part of and two much smaller “scab” shows that set up nearby to grab the same crowd. And there was quite a crowd; by noon the place was really buzzing with shoppers.

Fountain Hills Show
Here’s a look down the Main Street of booths. You can see the fountain in the distance.

I came very close to buying a mobile of fish made from silverware but controlled myself. I did, however, buy a refrigerator magnet of a Volkswagen Beetle for a bug owner friend of mine. I got some ideas about displaying my own jewelry at shows and a few ideas for making various jewelry pieces.

After walking the show twice, Penny and I took a walk around the “lake.” Fountain Hills is famous for its fountain, which is one of the tallest in the world and goes off every hour on the hour (weather permitting). I used to take my helicopter passengers to see it if the timing was right on one of my Salt River tours out of Deer Valley or Falcon Field years ago. I saw it shoot off twice that day. The walkway around the lake — which is really just a big pond holding water for the fountain — was 1.2 miles long and we did it at a brisk pace.

Fountain at Fountain Hills
The fountain at Fountain Hills around midday on Sunday, February 24.

Penny, by the way, had become quite a celebrity. Several people wanted photos of her. Others called her Toto. Too many asked what kind of dog she was. I finally told them she was a Quincy Terrier and let it go at that.

It was nearly 2 PM when I was done with Fountain Hills. I said goodbye to Janet and Steve and headed back to the truck.

Back to Gilbert

Meanwhile, I had been in touch with Jan and Tiffani, my friends in Gilbert. Jan was recovered from his cold. They wanted me to visit. Tiffani put out two carrots: a shower and laundry. How could I resist?

On the way to their house, I stopped at Sprouts and Trader Joe’s to stock up on a few items I was unlikely to find elsewhere. Sprouts had those Cutie oranges I’m addicted to for just $1.99/bag. I bought two bags.

Poolside
Lounging poolside. Tiffani was amazed at how good my pedicure looked after six weeks. I still didn’t like the color of my nails.

Penny & Ruby
Penny and her friend Ruby joined me on the lounge chair after a while. It was a perfect day to relax outdoors.

When I got to their place, they weren’t there. They, like so many of the people who lived in the Phoenix area, had gone for a closer look at the snow. Now they were stuck in rodeo traffic in Apache Junction. They texted me the combination to their door. I went in, checked on their dogs and cats, threw in a load of wash, and then retired to poolside where I very nearly fell asleep in the sun.

When they got back, we relaxed together and separately while watching and not watching the Oscars. Jan had gotten the 16-inch telescope we’d gone to look at during my January visit. He’d had his backyard observatory modified and a mount installed for it. Now he was working on calibration. Tiffani liked to spend evenings on the back patio, reading on her tablet. While I watched the Oscars and followed it on Twitter, the two of them came in and out, mostly to refill their wine glasses.

When it was all over, Jan bought The Favorite on Apple TV and Tiffani and I watched it. I agree that the actress who played Queen Anne deserved an Oscar. But what a disturbing movie!

The Corvette
Jan’s Corvette.

The next day, Jan went to work and Tiffani and I ran errands. We started off in Jan’s Corvette, which Tiffani told me to drive since she doesn’t like driving on freeways. We dropped Penny off to be groomed at PetCo. Along the way, the car was making a weird rattling noise, like something was banging around by the front driver’s side tire. Tiffani said she thought they’d had that fixed.

So we took the car home and she called an Uber to take us to Scottsdale. We picked up medicine for her cat, than walked a half mile to a restaurant I’d eaten in the previous year, The Mission, which is in touristy Old Scottsdale.

Along the way, Tiffani explained the difference between tourists and tourons. They were easy to distinguish; tourons act like idiots, blocking the sidewalks so they can get photos of themselves in front of things like cactuses.

Dessert
Pumpkin bread pudding with ice cream.

We had an excellent lunch at the Mission, eating outside on the covered patio. I highly recommend it, especially the guacamole made table side by someone who apparently makes guacamole all day. Tiffani tried to get the server to give her the check, telling her it was my birthday. I denied it and begged for the check since Tiffani was Ubering us all over the valley. The server compromised: she gave me the check but also gave me a free dessert for my birthday. (For the record, my birthday is in June.)

From there, we took another Uber to PetCo to pick up Penny and then back to Tiffani’s house. I promptly went into the bedroom for a nap and managed to sleep through their Chinese takeout dinner, which was okay because I was completely stuffed from my huge lunch.

I should mention here that the main reason I was staying a second day is because I had applied for an art show in Litchfield Park and the woman who was in charge kept promising she’d be in touch to let me know if she had room for me. This had been going on for two weeks now and the show’s setup date was the upcoming Friday. I’d called and emailed her several times and although she never replied to the email, she made only promises of future contact on the phone. I didn’t want to nag her, but I also didn’t want to be 100 miles away when she finally called and told me she had room for me. So I was delaying in the Phoenix area just in case she got her act together and called. But it didn’t seem like that would happen and I was pretty much done waiting.

We had another relaxing evening together and apart. Jan showed me the Orion Nebula through the telescope and I couldn’t help but wonder how incredible the view would be if he had darker skies. Tiffani read her book on the patio. I watched jewelry making videos on their ginormous TV.

In the morning, I stripped the bed and threw the sheets into the washer with the last of my laundry. Jan made us breakfast. By 9 AM, they were leaving. By 9:30 AM, the guest room bed was remade and I was stepping out the front door with my laundry. I locked up and headed out for the next stage of my travels: more roughing it along the Colorado River.

Snowbirding 2019 Postcards: Superstition Mountains

I’m still in Arizona and still in my camper and still pulling my little cargo trailer. I signed up to display and sell my jewelry at an art show in Apache Junction this Saturday (tomorrow). I needed a place nearby to hunker down through the winter storm that was expected. Although a friend in nearby Mesa invited me to stay at her house, her husband has a terrible cold (again; what’s with that, Jan?) and I thought it best to stay clear.

I wound up just outside of the National Forest land north of Apache Junction, less than 5 miles from the Superstition Mountains. I found a relatively level spot alongside a wide dirt area, dropped the camper’s rear legs to level and stabilize it while still on the truck bed, and settled in for a three night stay.

The Superstition Mountains were right out my dining area window. They glowed in Wednesday’s late afternoon light.

Superstition Mountains.

The Superstition Mountains in last light.

The expected winter storm came in right on schedule with scattered rain showers starting during the night and then turning to a steady rain just afternoon on Thursday. I had planned ahead and had everything I needed to work on a big jewelry project inside the camper. I listened to a recorded book while I started work on a fine silver chain for a customer. I even did a little live tweeting with photos.

The rain continued throughout the rest of the day and into the night, turning the dirt area near me and the dirt road I’d taken to get to my campsite into thick mud and reddish brown flowing puddles. The mudders came by in their trucks at 5 PM and some of them were still playing in the mud when I went to sleep at 9.

In the morning, it was still raining, but lighter. And when I looked out the window, I saw the Superstition Mountains blanketed with snow.

Superstition Mountains with snow.

The Superstition Mountains blanketed with snow the morning after a winter storm.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Phoenix area, this is not normal. I consider myself lucky to have the chance to see it.

The rain is starting to let up now, but I’ll spend the rest of the day here, finishing up that jewelry project and making a few pairs of earrings I need for tomorrow’s show. With luck, I’ll be able to get out of here tomorrow morning at 7 to set up for that show; I admit to having doubts, mostly because of the condition of the road. I’m sure the mudders will be back in force today; maybe I’ll get some video of their antics.

And, with luck, I’ll get another afternoon shot of the Superstitions in last light, perhaps with some lingering snow.