Snowbirding 2019: In Mesa and Gilbert

I take a break from camping and spend some time selling rocks and visiting friends.

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

With my Colorado River Backwater vacation over, it was time to get back to work. I was scheduled to participate as a vendor in the annual Flagg Gem and Mineral Show in Mesa, AZ from January 4 through 6, so that was my next stop.

Setting Up My Booth

I headed east on I-10, letting Google Maps direct me to the Mesa Community College campus where the event would be held. At about 3:45 PM, I was following a young guy on foot to the space in the covered parking area to where my booth would be.

There was not much I could set up. After all, I’d chosen space under the covered parking area so I wouldn’t have to set up my tent shelter. But although that saved me some work, it also made some extra work for me. Without the tent and its sides, I couldn’t just leave my merchandise out overnight. There was no point in setting up more than just the tables to mark my space. So that’s what I did: I pulled the three folding tables out of my truck’s back seat area and set them up in a row along the outside edge of my booth space.

I should mention here that my booth space was huge: 14 x 28, I think. I didn’t need that much space, but it was the smallest space they offered. This was a big contrast to the 5 x 8 space I’m allowed at Pybus Public Market in Wenatchee where I do most of my selling. Rather than the usual challenge of cramming my wares into a tiny space, I had the unusual challenge of spreading everything out so it looked as if it filled the space.

The “Rough” Cargo Trailer

Meanwhile, I’d been texting back and forth with the owner of a cargo trailer listed on Craig’s List in Chandler. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that he was only 4 miles away from the show. I headed over to see the trailer.

The owner, Dan, lived in a kind of cool neighborhood in Chandler. From the street, it looked like any other subdivision, but each home had a very deep back yard — so big, in fact, that I suspect many of his neighbors had horses. Dan had a goat — the biggest goat I’d ever seen. It was very friendly and kept coming up to us to be petted. He also had a pit bull mix dog who was equally friendly but not quite as annoying about it. And he had a big garage in the back yard (although not as big as mine; as if anyone’s is).

He’d bought the trailer three years ago from someone else on Craig’s List to use as a storage shed for his tools until his garage was finished. Now that his garage was done, he didn’t need it anymore and wanted to sell it.

The trailer was in reasonable condition. Sure, it had some dents — thus his description of it being “rough” — but it was solid. It was outfitted the way I wanted: side door, back barn doors (vs a ramp), and two axles. It even had a screen vent and lighting (which needed some work). I could stand up straight in it. The price was good, but I’ve learned never to offer the listed price for anything on Craig’s List. (Frankly, you’re an idiot if you ask your best price since everyone wants a deal.) I offered him 10% less and he took it. He agreed to hold onto it until I was ready to come get it. I told him that might be Monday and he was okay with that. I also took a close look at the plug for the connection to my truck since it seemed that it might not be long enough to reach the truck with the hitch extension I needed to use with the camper on top. I went back to the camper, raided my mobile bank, and paid him. He gave me the title.

I do admit I had buyer’s remorse several times until I picked it up. What if it was too big? Had I paid too much? Did I really want to tow a trailer for the rest of this trip? Did I really need a trailer? The usual. All that cleared up a few days later when I put it to use.

Friends in Gilbert

From there, I went to Gilbert, where I’d be staying with friends. Tiffani and Jan have a house in a subdivision there with a guest room that’s always available for me and Penny. They’re great people and lots of fun and I know they think I don’t drink enough and go to bed too early. (I’m just not a party animal.)

I backed into their driveway, in front of the door to the extra garage they didn’t use, not sure whether overnight street parking was allowed there. (It was, fortunately.) Then I went inside where I was greeted by Jan. Tiffani came a short while later with a pizza to put in the oven. A while later we were eating pizza and drinking wine and watching something on television with the volume turned way up.

I did my laundry in their enormous washer and dryer. I was wearing my last clean pair of underwear and only had one pair of socks left. My jeans were so dirty I think I could have grown potatoes in them. The washer was so big, I only needed to do two loads, although I suspect that if I didn’t care about whites vs. darks I could have gotten it all — including my camper’s sheets — into one load. When the first load was dry and I had clean clothes to put on, I took a long, hot shower. It wasn’t until then that I felt as if I was done camping for a while.

At the Flagg Gem and Mineral Show

Slabs for Sale
I put out two boxes of rock from a Washington friend to sell. A slab of obsidian was the first thing I sold, but it was also the only slab I sold all weekend. Go figure.

The next day, I was out by 7 AM and on my way to the gem show. The show opened at 9 AM and I had until then to set up. After offloading most of my stuff, I backed the truck and camper into a spot against the fence. Then I went about putting the table cloths on the tables and setting up my easels for pendants and earrings, my display pieces for rings and bracelets, and the display boxes for cabochons. I also put out boxes of petrified wood and obsidian slabs I’d brought from Washington; if there was any place I could sell them, this would be it. Of course, I never took a picture of my booth.

The show was pretty big and well managed — which makes sense considering it’s been an annual event for more than 50 years. Lots of vendors selling everything: rough stone, slabs, cabs, specimens, display pieces, beads, and, of course, jewelry. The organizers of the event required every booth to have at least 75% of its merchandise related to stone or jewelry so there weren’t the usual vendors selling salsa or microfiber cloths or blenders that you see at so many shows these days.

The other vendors were very friendly. The couple behind me, who were from Idaho, sold mostly Asian-made stone items such as bowls and statues and display pieces. The wife was completely entranced with Penny, who I had tied up in my booth for much of the first day. The guy west of me owned a local prospecting shop and was promoting his business, as well as selling metal detectors, books, and all kinds of prospecting equipment. The woman east of me was Native American, selling mostly beaded jewelry. Across from me were some guys who owned a nearby coffee shop that featured jewelry and items from local artists; they were selling mostly turquoise cabochons at prices a bit beyond what I like to spend.

I spent most of the first day cataloging the stones I’d purchased the day before and putting them on display in the appropriate box. I have my cabochon boxes sorted by price: $10 and Under, $15 to $20, and $25 and over. (I wish everyone did this.) Although I originally began displaying my cabochons to give people an opportunity to pick one for a custom pendant, I soon began selling cabochons to people who just wanted the stones. That’s fine with me since I mark up all the stones I sell — and sell ones I’ve polished myself — so I make money on every sale. It’s actually better when I’m really busy, since special orders can get stacked, making them difficult to fill in the two hours I say I can fill them in. At this event I sold about two dozen cabochons and took special orders for three pendants. I also sold some pendants that were already made, along with some earrings, a bracelet, and a ring.

Friday was a bit slow, but things picked up on Saturday, which is when I started selling more jewelry than rocks. A man who had taken a deep interest in my recently completed rosary came back with his wife for a second look. I could tell that they really liked it, but the $140 price tag may have been too high. (It’s a lot lower than the $180 I’d originally wanted to price it at.) I sold out on all my K2 granite stones — I started the day with seven of them — and also sold a bunch of bumble bee jasper. And I sold a handful of cabochons that I’d made from Washington state obsidian and petrified wood, leaving me without samples of finished stones to help sell the slabs.

Tiger Tail Jasper Kingman Turquoise
Here are two of the five pieces I made on Friday and Saturday: Tiger Tail Jasper in sterling silver and Kingman Turquoise in copper and sterling silver. The turquoise piece sold literally two minutes after I put it on the display board — the buyer was standing right there when I hung it — thus reinforcing my belief that I need to buy more turquoise stones.

The Vehicle Shuffle

In the meantime, I’d asked security if I could leave my camper parked overnight in the lot. They said I could, as long as I didn’t sleep in it. No problem. On Friday, I dropped the camper’s legs and moved the truck out, then lowered the camper nearly as low as it would go. I didn’t bother with the sawhorses since I wouldn’t be spending much time in it. So on Friday evening, when I returned to my friend’s place in Gilbert, the truck was camperless.

That made it a lot easier to pick up the trailer, which I did on Saturday after the show. I’d brought along the hitch extender from home — I suspected that I might buy a trailer while I was in Arizona — and put that in place to see how the trailer would tow at the end of it. I was ready to try to back out of the deal if it looked as if the trailer was too heavy for it. Dan was still home — he told me he had plans to go out that evening — and helped me, which made things a lot quicker. Satisfied that the trailer would be okay at the end of the hitch extender and that the wire might even reach, we disconnected it and reconnected without the hitch extender.

The trailer did have two immediate problems:

  • The trailer had no license plate, making it a perfect target for any cop who wanted an easy ticket to write.
  • My truck was so tall that the trailer’s front wheels were off the ground. I assumed that once the camper was back on the truck the rear end of the truck would come down enough to make that problem go away.

I didn’t consider either problem too serious to drive away, so I did, already feeling a little better about my purchase. I parked in the road in front of my friend’s house that evening. It looked pretty funny with those wheels off the ground.

Overnight, it rained hard. I’d wondered a bit whether the trailer leaked — there was a dent in the front driver’s side near the top — but it was bone dry inside in the morning. I took it with me to the gem show, where I arrived after 9 AM, and parked near where I’d left the camper.

Sunday at the Show

The show was off to a slow start that morning, with a lot of very wet booths and no shoppers. I was glad I’d packed up everything except my tables before leaving the night before. I debated whether I’d bother setting up for the last day. I told myself that if I saw blue sky to the west when I arrived, I would. I didn’t see any blue sky at all.

Rainbox Jasper Slabs
Slabs are usually on display in water because when they’re wet they give you a good indication of what they might look like when polished. This vendor’s display clearly identified the rocks and where they were from. I took photos of the displays so I could document the stones later on.

I decided to do a little shopping. I walked up and down the rows of the rock seller booths, looking for inexpensive cabochons and slabs. I found plenty and spent much of the $120 I’d brought with me that morning. (I’d somewhat wisely left much of what I’d taken in the day before back at the house.) I wound up buying two nice turquoise stones from a mine in New Mexico — that stood me back $43. (Ouch!) I also bought some very inexpensive slabs. And a nice pair of perfectly matched mookiate jasper cabochons for earrings.

Along the way, I stopped at a rock club booth where a bunch of older guys were chatting together. I asked if anyone could help me identify some slabs I had. They said to bring them over. So when I was done shopping and had dropped off my purchases in the truck, I returned with a box full of slabs. By that time, most of the guys were gone, but one person suggested I talk to “Richard” and another brought me to Richard’s booth and introduced me.

What followed was about 45 minutes of me pulling out slabs and Richard telling me all about them, including how they were formed and where they were most likely from. I pulled off pieces of masking tape, wrote the info he provided on them, and stuck them on the rocks. I stumped him once or twice and to make up for it, he’d reach into one of his boxes of slabs on display for sale and hand me another slab, telling me that it was like another one I had. It took me a moment to realize that he wanted me to keep these rocks, too. Soon he was giving me more rocks than he was identifying. It took a little effort to keep him focused, but we finally got through them all.

I told him I wanted to buy him lunch and he said no. So I asked what I could do for him.

“Buy some rocks,” he said.

“But you already gave me a dozen of them,” I replied. “My box is full.” I handed him a $20 bill, which was all I had left.

“Do you want change?” He asked.

“No, I’m good,” I told him.

He gave me another six or so slabs, telling me what each one was. Then he pulled out a gorgeous piece of imperial jasper marked $10. “Do you like this one?” He asked.

“Yes,” I told him. “It’s gorgeous. But I don’t have any money left.”

“Just take it.”

He handed it to me and I put it in my box with the others. Then I thanked him and made a quick departure before he could give me any more.

Leaving the Show

I dropped off my rocks in the truck. By this time, it was after 1 PM. The sun was breaking through the clouds and there were shoppers around. About a quarter of the vendors hadn’t set up that morning. I debated only briefly about setting up. It would take at least 30 minutes to dry off the tables and get them set up again and the event ended at 4 PM. It wasn’t worth it.

So I packed up the tables and stuck them into the trailer with anything else that was large. I had no way to tie anything down, so I left my jewelry and cabochon cases in the truck, not wanting the cases to get damaged if they shifted around.

I disconnected the trailer and put the hitch extension back on with the hitch on the end. I raised the camper, backed under it, and lowered it onto the truck. I fastened the tie-down straps. Then I backed up to the trailer with the assistance of a man who saw me backing up and came over to help. I hooked up the trailer and plugged it in. The cord just reached. Success!

My Rig
Here’s my truck, camper, and new old trailer in the parking lot right after hooking them up. It would be a few days before I got the kayak and tent frame off the camper roof.

Well, partial success. The front wheels of the trailer didn’t make firm contact with the ground, so I’d need to get a drop hitch. And since my truck knows when there’s a trailer plugged in, I learned quickly that every time I made a right turn, the plug would come undone. That means I needed a longer cable or extension.

I stopped at Walmart and Napa and picked up various supplies to drop the hitch and rewire the plug to the trailer. I’d do it all in the morning, I figured. I was in no really hurry to leave.

Purple Nail Polish, MVD, and Visiting another Friend

Purple Toenails?
I always choose boring colors for my nails. This time, I picked something crazy. Lavendar?

On Monday, which was Tiffani’s extra day off from work — she’s off Sunday, too — she scheduled pedicures for herself, Jan, and me. So after I treated her for breakfast, we met Jan at her regular nail place and settled in for a good foot pampering.

Then it was errands. She needed to run up to Scottsdale to pick up medicine for one of her cats. I needed to go to motor vehicle to get a temporary permit to legally tow the trailer up to Washington. She very graciously volunteered to drive me there so I wouldn’t have to take my truck with camper and trailer attached to motor vehicle where parking might be scarce.

By then, I was on hold with USPS. A package I was expecting from India had been recorded as arrived in Phoenix but not scanned in. It had been in limbo for about two weeks and I needed to follow up. We were near the head of the line at MVD over an hour after starting the call when someone finally answered. He was unable to provide any additional information and told me to call DHL, which is the company that supposedly handed off the missing package. Good thing I hadn’t sat around waiting for them to answer. Instead, I managed to wait on hold for one bureaucracy while waiting on line for another, thus wasting time while wasting time. (Oddly enough, ten minutes after he told me he couldn’t help me, my phone pinged with a notification that the package had been scanned in and would be delivered by the end of the week. Coincidence? You tell me.)

When we were done with motor vehicle, we headed north. Tiffani had to pick up Jan at Falcon Field Airport, where their company is based. She knew I had another friend I planned to meet up with who lived up there and suggested I visit him instead of going all the way up to Scottsdale with her. So I worked my phone and arranged to meet him for lunch. Tiffany and Jan dropped me off.

My friend, Mike, is a retired FAA guy. He owned a piece of property across the street from one of the orchards I fly at every summer. In 2010, when he was just starting to build a house there, I rented space on his lot to park my big fifth wheel while I was on contract with the orchard. I would up spending the next three summers there — every summer until I bought my own land in the area.

He’d built the home as a place for he and his wife to retire to. But when he was done, she told him she didn’t want to move there. I really felt awful for him; I’d gone through a similar situation with my wasband when he broke similar promises he’d made to me. He wound up selling the home and if I hadn’t been financing a helicopter overhaul at the time, I probably would have bought it. It would have been an excellent AirBnB property and I already manage the house next door.

Mike was now in the process of getting divorced and had bought a home in Mesa. It was a nice place on a corner lot in a subdivision. He looked great when I saw him — healthier and happier than I think I’ve ever seen him. It’s funny how beneficial a major life change can be.

He showed me around his place, which still needed a lot of furniture. Then we left Penny behind and took his car out to lunch. We wound up at a place Tiffani had suggested that he knew well. I had an excellent eggplant parmesan sandwich, which is something I haven’t had since my New York days. We talked about what he was doing to keep busy and what he’d learned about dating. He pretty much confirmed what I already suspected; too many needy women wanted full-time relationships but the ones that most interested him were the ones who wanted to maintain their own separate home and space. I think the smart folks have it figured out — at our age, we just don’t want the changes and compromises that come with a live-in partner.

Afterwards, we fetched Penny and headed back to the airport where I was going to meet up with Jan and Tiffani. Mike dropped me off and I promised I’d come again, perhaps before the end of this trip.

Woody was at the airport when I got there. He’s the other partner in Jan and Tiffani’s helicopter flight school business. Like Jan, he’s a recently retired airline pilot. But he also flies helicopters. He was one of the cherry drying pilots I worked with last summer. It was good to see him and to finally meet his new dog.

When Jan and Tiffani showed up, we didn’t hang around long. Jan had to go down to the San Tan Valley to see a telescope he was interested in buying. He has a 12-inch telescope in a backyard observatory and was interested in upgrading to a 16-inch. So he, Tiffani, Penny, and I headed down to see it.

16 Inch Telescope
Here’s the telescope Jan is considering. It needs to be mounted on this angle (33°) so it can properly track objects in the night sky. Jan is concerned that it might not fit in his observatory.

The guy who greeted us was a spry older man — 85, we later found out — who had not one but six telescopes. Four field telescopes were in his garage and the other two larger ones were mounted in a shack in his backyard. The shack didn’t look like much and, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how he opened the flat roof to look out. But then when Jan asked him to open up to get more light in, he unfastened a few latches and then slid the entire roof back onto a frame just outside the building. It was a neat setup. Chatting with him, we learned that he was a helicopter pilot, had gone flying with a friend in one of Jan and Tiffani’s helicopters years ago, and used to live in Wenatchee! Small world.

Cocktail with Bacon
I sure wish I could remember what this cocktail was. It was extremely tasty, even with the bacon.

Afterwards, we went back to Jan and Tiffani’s house to drop off Penny. Woody showed up with his two dogs. We climbed back into two cars and headed out to dinner. It was early, so dinner consisted of happy hour drinks and bar munchies. It was my last night in Gilbert and I enjoyed spending it out with friends.

Heading Out

I woke up early this morning, stripped the guest bed, and threw the linens in the washer with all my dirty clothes. Then I took my last luxury shower until the next time I was someone’s guest, making sure to wash my hair thoroughly. When the linens and my clothes had gone through the dryer, I remade the bed, arranged the nine (!) pillows on it, and started bringing things out to the camper. The inside of the camper was a complete mess that I’d deal with when I stopped for the night.

It was nearly 10 AM when I said goodbye to Jan and Tiffani. Realizing that a professional could do a better job at rewiring the trailer than I could, I’d made a 10:30 appointment at a local U-Haul dealer so their “hitch pro” could do it. With the clock ticking, I pulled away from their house while they prepared to go to work.

Appointment Stacking

If there’s one thing I’ve learned living 10 miles from the closest supermarket and other in-town conveniences, it’s what I call “appointment stacking.” That when you schedule all the things you need to do within a certain window on a certain day. If done just right, you can get appointments and errands crammed into the minimal amount of time, thus making the absolute best use of your time without a lot of additional trips.

That’s what I did on Tuesday. I stacked the U-Haul appointment, DOR errand, Napa and Walmart return errands, lunch, eye appointment, grocery shopping, and long drive from Gilbert to Peoria into one 8-hour period.

At the U-Haul place, the pro did what I asked: he cut the existing hitch wire extension and replaced it with the longer wire I provided. He was able to reuse the plug. While he worked, I fiddled around with the hitch. I realized that the adjustable drop hitch I’d bought at Walmart dropped the hitch too much. Fortunately, U-Haul had other options. I chose one and asked them to put the 2-5/8 inch ball I’d bought on it. When they were all done, the trailer sat pretty level with all four wheels on the ground and the wiring cable was plenty long. Total cost: $65. So worth it. Later, I’d return the extra parts I’d bought at Napa and Walmart.

The next stop was the Arizona Department of Revenue office where I needed to renew my business permit for Flying M Air to sell drone photos in Quartzsite. That went surprisingly fast and only cost $12.

Then I had time to kill before an eye appointment. I took care of the returns and headed north through the Phoenix area. My appointment was in the Deer Valley area in North Phoenix. So was P.F. Chang’s and I was hungry.

My eye appointment was at 5 PM. Sunset was just after 5:30 PM. I was at least 50 miles from where I wanted to spend the night and I knew I wouldn’t make it before it got a lot darker than I like to drive in. So while I ate I started thinking about alternative places to spend the night, using satellite view in Google Maps to get ideas.

My Campsite
One of the best parts of RVing with a self-contained rig is that you can camp for free in a lot of different places. I know this particular area well; I used to land my helicopter at Wild Horse West for burgers once in a while.

Eye exam and some grocery shopping done, I climbed into my truck at about 6 PM and headed out. I ended up about 15 miles away, parked for the night in a deserted off-road vehicle camping area that was technically in Peoria. I didn’t think anyone would bother me and I was right. I spent the next hour organizing my camper for the next part of my journey and settled down with Penny to read a book. I was asleep by 9 PM.

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.

Snowbirding 2017 Postcards: Mormon Temple Christmas Lights

I’m spending a few days at a friend’s house in the Phoenix area and she suggested that we go see the Christmas lights around the Mormon Temple in Mesa, AZ. I’d never been to the Mormon Temple — in fact, I didn’t even know there was a Mormon Temple in Mesa. I’m always game to try something new, so we went.

My friend told me that she has good parking karma and she wasn’t kidding. The place was crowded and full of traffic, yet she managed to find a parking spot almost right in front of the temple. They were hundreds of people there, mostly families, all walking around lighted pathways and trees with the obligatory manger.

What impressed me most, however, were the reflecting pools at various places around the temple. The building itself was evenly lit with bright, white light and it reflected magnificently in the calm water. The colored lights added a sort of magic to the scene.

I didn’t take many pictures, but here are a few to give you an idea of what it was like. (I put an interactive panorama on Facebook.) If you’re ever in the area around Christmas time, I highly recommend visiting it — but not necessarily on a Saturday night.

Helicopter Flight from Washington to Arizona, Day 2: Desert Heat and Familiar Terrain

Descending into the desert’s warmth and well-known flight routes.

I woke at around 5 AM. Actually, Penny woke me up that early. She left the bed and for a while I just lay there, half asleep, wondering where she’d gotten to in the vast attic guest room. Then I remembered that I hadn’t closed the door and realized that she might have gone downstairs. I jumped out of bed and headed down to find her.

She was in the kitchen at the back door with the other three dogs. I opened the door to let them all out. The morning was cool and the sky was clear with the waning gibbous moon hanging high in the western sky. The autumn leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. I waited patiently, then got the dogs back in, one at a time, and closed the door.

Megg was awake, getting ready for work. We talked quietly in the kitchen for a few minutes before she headed off to the shower and I headed back upstairs.

A while later, Megg was upstairs to say goodbye. I wasn’t sure how long we’d stay — it depended on when Jeremy could be ready — and she knew she wouldn’t be home until at least 10 AM. I hoped to be in the air by then. So we said goodbye, possibly until July, and she headed off to work.

Meanwhile Jeremy was still asleep and I wanted coffee. Megg had told me about a place walking distance from her home, Alchemy Coffee. I checked it out on Google Maps and saw that it was only 0.6 miles away and opened at 6:30 AM. I got dressed, grabbed my coat and Penny’s leash, and headed out for a walk — or more like a mission — in the predawn light.

Salt Lake City Capitol Building
I got a neat view of the Capitol building as I walked back to Megg’s house. There was something kind of surreal about the way the first light illuminated the flag outside.

Megg lives in Salt Lake City proper, not far from Capitol Hill. If you think it would be very urban, you’d be wrong. It’s a really nice residential neighborhood with lots of houses of various styles and ages. Sidewalks on both sides of the street keep you off the road as you wander past front yards, often under overhanging trees. It wasn’t a long walk at all, but there was one steep hill, about two blocks long, just as Megg had warned me. I passed within two blocks of the Capitol building and arrived at Alchemy right around 7 AM.

I had my latte and an almond danish while sitting at an outside table with Penny. By that time, it was fully light, although the sun hadn’t cleared the mountains to the east yet. The coffee shop did a brisk business, with about half of its patrons parking briefly at the curb while they ran in for their coffee.

I caught up on Twitter and Facebook activity while I slowly drained my cup. I also checked in for my flight out of Phoenix the next day, very pleased that I’d gotten a First Class upgrade again. I switched my seat from an aisle to a window seat using the Alaska Airlines app. (Does anyone other than me remember the red paper tickets we used to have and waiting on line to change a seat?)

I texted Jeremy to let him know that I wanted to head out by 9 AM. He agreed that an early start would be best. Then I headed back on a slightly different route, really enjoying the variety of architecture along the way.

Back at the house, I let the dogs out again as Megg had asked me to. Her son was still asleep and I tried not to bother him. Jeremy was packing up. When he was ready to go — I’d already packed up before leaving for coffee — I used my phone to call an Uber. A car was at the curb less than 5 minutes later.

We talked Uber along the way. I’d recently become an Uber driver but didn’t drive much, mostly because demand was so low in Wenatchee that it was a waste of time to hang out in town waiting for a call. I learned a few things from the driver’s point of view. Unfortunately, he had trouble finding Skypark and I had to direct him the last mile or so. The fare was only around $12, which I thought was good for a 7-mile drive.

Leg 4: Salt Lake City to Bryce Canyon

After preflighting and adding a quart of oil — I added either a quart or half quart at every fuel stop — we loaded up the helicopter, climbed on board, and started up. It was probably about 9:15 when we got airborne.

TAC for Salt Lake
This closeup of the Salt Lake TAC shows how close Skypark is to Salt Lake City’s surface airspace.

The first challenge was crossing through the surface area of Salt Lake City’s Class Bravo airport along the I-15 freeway. I had to get clearance and I wasn’t able to make contract until I was airborne. Because Skylark is right next to Salt Lake City’s surface airspace, I had to head due east to make contact and get clearance. I called on the wrong frequency (of course) and had to switch to another one, which I managed to screw up once. So I was orbiting a bit out there until we got it sorted out and I got the clearance I needed. Then it was an easy flight south.

The only thing I regret is not turning on the GoPro. Although I had remembered to turn on the wifi and camera, I’d forgotten to turn the camera on. It’s a real shame because I think I could have gotten a few nice shots as we flew past downtown Salt Lake City.

The last tower I had to talk to — at least for a while — was Provo. Again, I asked for and got clearance to follow I-15 south. Using a landmark like a freeway makes it very easy to tell a tower what you want and make sure you both know exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Leg Four
The fourth leg of our trip, recorded by ForeFlight.

Past Provo and abeam Spanish Fork, I veered to the east a bit to enter the valley that would take me along route 89 to Bryce Canyon. That put us in a series of long, relatively narrow valleys between mountain ranges that rose up to 9,000+ feet on the west and 11,000+ feet on the east. There were a few towns along the way and lots of farmland. Very rural, almost remote. And then another narrower, more remote valley with 11,000+ foot mountains on either side. It was 213 nautical miles from Skypark to Bryce Canyon and it took us nearly 2-1/2 hours to cover that distance. I’d been hoping to refuel at Page, AZ, but it didn’t look like we’d make it so we stopped at Bryce.

Bryce Hangar
The old log hangar at Bryce Canyon Airport.

The last time I’d been to Bryce Canyon Airport had been way back in January 2013 on a photo flight with a good client. He’d been assigned by Airpano to get pictures of Bryce Canyon in winter for their panoramic image project. We flew up from Phoenix and wound up getting snowed in for two nights before we could do the shoot. You can read a bit about it here. On that last visit, the airport guy had been extraordinarily helpful with weather-related problems — so helpful that my client and I had each tipped him $100. I still have the t-shirt he gave me when I wanted to buy one; I call it my “hundred dollar t-shirt.” I was looking forward to seeing him, just to see if he remembered me. But he wasn’t there. It was a different guy who was older and not quite as friendly. I think he was put off by Penny, who first came into his office off-leash. Oops.

Anyway, he fueled us up while we used the bathroom. I was out on the ramp again chatting with him when the local sheriff’s office guy came up, in uniform. I wondered if we’d done something wrong but couldn’t imagine what it might be. But he was just there to chat with his airport buddy, to kill time on a nice day.

And it was a nice day — unseasonably warm for October, especially at Bryce’s 7590-foot elevation. The kind of day you’d want to sit out in the sun on one of the chairs they had on the FBO porch. In the 50s, at least. I didn’t even need my jacket.

Leg 5: Bryce Canyon to Sedona

Of course, Bryce Canyon Airport is only a few miles from Bryce Canyon National Park, so there’s no chance we’d leave there without a nice little flyby. I felt bad for Jeremy, who’d really hoped to visit friends and his daughter on the way south. I thought of Bryce Canyon, which he’d never been to, as a sort of consolation prize.

Bryce Canyon is really a misnomer; it’s not a canyon at all. It’s basically a cliff face where Mother Nature has eroded rocks with wind and rain, exposing the red sandstone layers and carving out towers called hoodoos. These are visible from various lookout points along a rim road on the top of the cliff as well as from the air to the southeast of the park itself. At least one tour operator does helicopter tours there. Although the airspace is clearly marked for the National Park, I know the rules: pilots are requested to avoid flight within 2,000 feet of the ground or cliffs (or hoodoos) within that area. That doesn’t mean flight is forbidden. So a quick flyby wouldn’t break any rules and likely wouldn’t bother many tourists. After all, there’s a tour operator likely flying by multiple times in a day for a lot longer and a lot closer.

And I did keep it quick. I made a big loop out toward Tropic and then came in closer with Jeremy’s side facing the park. He shot a bunch of photos. The nosecam didn’t really get any good shots, but one was sharable. Then we continued on our way.

Bryce
Keep in mind that I was turning when the nosecam captured this image of Bryce Canyon.

It was around then that I first caught sight of Navajo Mountain. This is a huge landmark for me. It means coming home, returning to a place that I know very well: Lake Powell. I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent over the lake with photographers on board. Easily over 200. I missed it and I wanted to fly it again, but I wasn’t interested in flying over it with a nearly timed-out engine that was making metal shavings. I’ve tentatively planned a photo shoot there in April 2017, before I bring the helicopter back to Washington from its California frost contract. If you’re interested, you might want to check this out. And tell your friends.

West of Page
Typical terrain west of Page, AZ. If you look closely at the horizon, you should be able to see Navajo Mountain off it in the distance.

We took an almost direct route to Page, AZ from there, taking a slight detour to visit the Wahweap Hoodoos. Then we flew past the Glen Canyon Dam, over Horseshoe Bend, and down toward Lees Ferry. I skirted the edge of the Grand Canyon Airspace, flying over the Navajo Reservation, seeing wild horses and the remains of old hogans. All of this was familiar to me but new to Jeremy. For some reason, the helicopter felt lighter, happier, faster. Probably my imagination, but maybe it knew it was returning to familiar terrain?

Horseshoe Bend
Horseshoe bend from about 700 feet up. Not nearly as impressive as it is from much higher looking almost straight down.

Vermillion Cliffs
Lees Ferry with the Vermillion Cliffs behind them.

Marble Canyon
Marble Canyon looks like a giant crack in the earth as it winds across the plateau toward the Grand Canyon.

We reached the Little Colorado River Gorge and I flew along the top of it, keeping the nosecam in mind for a different view. I think I could have gotten better shots from higher up, with the camera pointing more down. Next time?

Little Colorado River Gorge
The Little Colorado River Gorge, heading toward the Grand Canyon.

Then we climbed up onto the Coconino Plateau and I steered almost due south toward Sedona. There’s a lot of nothing out there, but Jeremy managed to spot some wild horses where I’d never seen wild horses before.

Closer to Flagstaff, the air was smoky. There were fires burning but because there were no TFRs in the area, I assumed they were controlled burns. We dropped down into Oak Creek Canyon just west of Flagstaff Airport’s airspace. It was a bit bumpy as we followed the canyon down. We were flying into the sun again, so the nosecam didn’t capture any good images. I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure this was Jeremy’s first time in Sedona. I think he was impressed by the red rocks.

Leg 5
The fifth leg of our trip, as recorded by ForeFlight.

We lined up to land along the taxiway. I was just looking for parking on the ramp when I remembered that they liked helicopters to park in the remote helicopter landing area far to the southwest corner of the field. I decided to try landing with the planes, which was much closer to the terminal and restaurant. I chose a spot in the last row, isolated from the parked planes, with my tail rotor out toward the taxiway so I didn’t have to worry about anyone walking behind me. In the old days, someone would get on the radio and tell me to move. But that day there was silence. There was someone mowing out by the helipads and I figured they either didn’t care or weren’t using them that day. So I shut down.

Of course, the woman operating the mower came out to scold me when the blades had stopped. She claimed it was “safer” for me to park down in no man’s land. (Okay, not what she called the helipads.) Safer? I couldn’t see how, especially since it required us to walk along an active taxiway to get to the terminal. I feigned ignorance and said we’d be gone soon anyway. Knowing she couldn’t expect me to start it back up just to move it for an hour-long stay, she left us, looking frustrated and annoyed.

Parking at Sedona
I don’t see what’s so unsafe about this parking spot.

I ordered fuel and we chatted with the pilot of a Cessna on floats that was on a cross-country from Minnesota (if I remember correctly) to California. Seaplanes are pretty rare in Arizona (although the state does have more boats per capita than any other state in the country).

We went to the restaurant and got a table outside so Penny could sit with us. Our waiter, whose name was Ferrari, was very pleasant but not a very good waiter. It took forever for him to bring our drinks. (Penny actually got water before we did.) We were all famished so I ordered an appetizer to share. We both ordered salads. The food, when it came, was good and really hit the spot. I shared some of the chicken from my salad with Penny. I also had one of their mango cake desserts, which was just as delicious as I remembered it being. Jeremy picked up the extremely large tab, I paid for gas, and we headed back out to the helicopter.

Leg 6: Sedona to Phoenix

By this time, my dinner date in Wickenburg had been cancelled and I’d made arrangements to meet my friend Mike at his airpark home near Phoenix instead. He had to go to work so time was limited. Still, I couldn’t resist detouring through Wickenburg. Since my old house was sold in 2015, I’d become friends with the new owners. They’d made some improvements to the house since moving in and although I’d seen a few pictures, I hadn’t actually seen the house itself since I left it in May 2013. I thought it might be nice to do a flyby. Maybe Jeremy could get some nice aerial photos that I could pass along to the new owners.

So we left Sedona flying northwest, along the red rock cliffs. Although the light wasn’t quite right for photos, I did manage to get a few good images.

Sedona from Airport Mesa
Here’s a look at Sedona right after departing northwest bound from the airport, which sits atop a Mesa.

Sedona's Red Rock
The red rocks of Sedona, west of town.

After crossing Sycamore Canyon, I headed toward Prescott on a path that took us within sight of Jerome. From there, we transitioned the southeast side of Prescott’s airspace and followed the Hassayampa River all the way down to Route 93 in Wickenburg. I adjusted my course to intercept Cemetery Wash and followed that up past my old home. It looked great from the air — the new owners are really taking good care of it. I was amazed by the size of the Mexican fan palm in the side yard — I remember planting that tree when it was shorter than me and now it stands at least 30 feet tall. I circled the house and Jeremy shot photos. I still haven’t seen them, but I’m sure he got at least one good one to share.

From there, we headed southwest toward Vulture Peak. I did a quick flyby, pointing out the trail that wound up to the saddle for Jeremy’s benefit. I looked forward to hiking the peak in a few months when I was back in town with friends.

Then I headed southeast toward Hangars Haciendas, the airpark where my friends Mike and Cheryl live. I worked the GPS and radio. I had to connect with Luke Approach to enter and transition the jet training area northwest of Glendale. That was the biggest challenge since I was flying only about 700 feet up — my usual cruise altitude — and had to call from so far out that they couldn’t pick up my transmission. That meant climbing. We finally connected and I got a squawk code and transition instructions. They asked for my destination and I told them Hangars Haciendas.

“What airport is that near?” the controller responded.

“It is an airport,” I replied. “A residential airpark southwest of Sky Harbor.”

Leg 6
The sixth leg of our trip, recorded by ForeFlight. This was the scenic, time-wasting portion of the flight.

Clearly, he had no clue where I was going, but he understood that I had to go through Goodyear’s airspace so he handed me off to that controller when I got closer. That guy cleared me to transition eastbound along I-10. There was a tense moment when he pointed out an aircraft in downwind and I couldn’t see it. I offered to stay north of I-10 and he accepted that. Jeremy saw the plane before I did and it really was no factor. But I could tell by the controller’s voice that he was concerned. I’m sure he was glad to cut me loose.

Of course, Hangars Haciendas does not appear on my Garmin GPS, although it is on ForeFlight. I used that to zero in on it. It was very difficult to find! I finally caught sight of it and eventually saw Mike, in his uniform, waving us in to his concrete hangar apron. I landed in the corner and immediately popped my door open. It was hot!

Mike Waves Me In
The nosecam caught this photo of my friend Mike waving me into parking on his hangar apron.

I cooled down the helicopter while Penny and Jeremy got out. It’s kind of funny when you think about it — the next stop would be the engine’s last stop before overhaul. Why bother doing a proper shutdown? Well, why not? Surely I could spare the extra two to three minutes to take care of an engine that had been so good to me for so long.

Parked at Mike's House
Zero-Mike-Lima parked in front of my friend Mike’s hangar.

Mike only had about 20 minutes to spare for us. He’d been on standby and had actually been called in to work. He needed to leave before 5 PM. So he wasted no time showing off his new plane and helicopter, both of which were tucked into his hangar. I also got a chance to see his home, which was still in its final construction phase the last time I’d been there. I didn’t get a chance to see his wife Cheryl because she was basking in the sun in Hawai’i that week. She’d be home later in the week, just before he left for China.

We parted ways a short while later. Mike drove off to the airport while Jeremy, Penny, and I went back to the helicopter for the last leg of our journey.

The Last Leg: Phoenix to Chandler

I have to say that the last leg was kind of bittersweet for me. Not only would it be the last time I flew until January or February, but it also marked the end of my helicopter’s first life. Its tired airframe, engine, rotor blades, and other components would be stripped down, rebuilt, and replaced. When I got it back, it would be the same helicopter, yet different.

We took off heading almost due east along the north side of South Mountain. Jeremy spotted another helicopter at our altitude nearby — he’s actually a pretty good flying companion — and I tuned into the Phoenix Air-to-Air frequency (123.025), which I hadn’t used in three years, to make a call. The pilot of the other helicopter, with a Firebird call sign — I’m thinking either DPS or Phoenix Police — responded immediately. They were doing some training work, hovering over a South Phoenix neighborhood. We exchanged pleasantries and I continued on my way.

South Mountain
Flying eastbound along the north side of South Mountain near Phoenix. I don’t miss Phoenix’s smog layer at all. That day was actually clearer that most.

After I crossed I-10 and made my first radio call to Chandler tower, I turned on the cockpit GoPro, which had been set up for the entire flight but never turned on. I figured I’d document this last leg of the flight. I started off chatty enough, but soon lapsed into silence. I guess I didn’t have much to say. You can see for yourself in the video below. It’s a shame that the setting sun over my right shoulder puts so much glare into the cockpit.


For some reason, I thought it was a good idea to document the last leg of our flight with a video.

Last Leg
The last leg of our flight was very short. See it on ForeFlight.

It was a very short flight — less than 15 minutes from takeoff to landing. Again, cooled down the engine before shutting down. I patted the controls and talked to the helicopter. (Yeah, I do talk to my machines, even though none of them have names or genders.) When the blades had stopped, I got out with Penny and went to find the Director of Maintenance, Paul.

Post Flight

Into the HangarPaul wheeled the helicopter into the hangar where the overhaul work would be done.

The next hour or so was spent helping Paul bring the helicopter into Quantum’s big hangar, talking to him about the little problems it had that needed attention, and discussing core and replacement options. Together, Jeremy and I unpacked the helicopter, separating everything in it into three piles: his luggage, my luggage, and the stuff that would stay with the helicopter in the wheeled box I’d brought along. I was glad that my day pack had been lightly packed for the trip because I did have to take a few things home with me — my GoPros, Penny’s bed, and my Square card reader equipment. Finally, everything was organized and packed for taking or leaving. The sun was down and we were ready to leave.

I didn’t take one last photo. After all, I’ll see Zero-Mike-Lima again in December. I know they’ll have started work by then and it’ll be partially stripped. That’s okay. I’d rather remember it from the last few photos I took during that final flight. I left it parked between two other R44s, knowing that it was in good hands.

The folks at Quantum gave us a lift to the hotel I’d reserved off I-10. The driver was studying to be a helicopter mechanic and working toward his private pilot license. He refused to take the tip I offered when he dropped us off.

We checked in and got information about a restaurant with an outside patio that was within walking distance of the hotel. I was very pleasantly surprised by how comfortable and clean my room was. This was a Quality Inn — which allows dogs — and the room rate was only $65 with tax. I had very low expectations and was so glad they delivered a much nicer room than I expected.

We walked to the restaurant, which turned out to be a very nice Italian place in a strip mall. We sat outside, where the evening air was comfortable and cool. I had two drinks to celebrate the end of the journey. We had a light dinner — mostly because we’d eaten so much at lunch — and walked back to the hotel.

I slept like a log.