Stalled by a Bad CD-R/DVD-R Drive

I get ready to wipe my server clean and start installation but get hung up by bad hardware.

By Friday, I had all my Web sites moved over to GoDaddy.com. The LangerBooks.com site, which had been having problems since I initially set it up there on Monday, was not fixed by Friday. So I deleted the setup an started again. Within minutes, it was set up properly and ready to go. Over the weekend, the DNS change was propagated through the system. Just about every browser looking for one of the 18 domain names I host was pointing to the appropriate site on GoDaddy.com.

My e-mail is already hosted by GoDaddy.com. All my e-mail addresses use the theflyingm.com domain name and that domain has been hosted on GoDaddy for at least a year now. So I didn’t need to move any of my e-mail server stuff. Although it exists on my local server, nothing points to it.

There are only three things that remain hosted on my server:

(1) FileMaker Pro provides live access to searchable data. I’m running FileMaker Pro Server 6 on that machine, even though version 8 is current. I wrote all my Web-compatible routines using FileMaker’s CDML language, which is no longer supported by FileMaker Pro 8. So if I updated to the new version of the software, I might have to rewrite the Web interface. That’s not something I want to do. FileMaker also creates the static text ssi files I use on serveral sites. Those files are now put into place using AppleScripts that call Fetch into action. A cool solution, if I do say so myself. After I install the server, I’ll have to reinstall FileMaker Pro, including all the databases and CDML files that run with the Web sites. I’ll also have to reinstall Fetch and make sure the AppleScripts go in the right places. This should take about an hour.

(2) Nicecast is what gets KBSZ-AM radio on the Internet. It’s pretty much plug and play with just a few settings to tweak. I expect this to take about 20 minutes to reinstall.

(3) Evocam is what creates the Webcam image for wickenburg-az.com. It’s actually two images and a movie. It has FTP built right in. Reinstalling should be pretty straightforward.

One other piece of software runs on the server all the time. It’s called Audio Hijack Pro and its job is to automatically record and save certain broadcasts from KBSZ’s stream. For example, the 8 AM news report is available online every day after 8:20 AM. This is all automated: Audio Hijack Pro records the show and runs an AppleScript routine that uses Fetch to upload it to the appropriate directory on the KBSZ-AM Web site (now at GoDaddy.com). Likewise, Audio Hijack Pro records the daily “Around the Town” show and the first hour of the weekly “Rock-a-billy & Beyond Show.” (Starting tomorrow evening, it’ll also be recording my first radio show, “Classic Rock Cuts.” You can tune in online on Wednesday nights at 8 PM MST. I’m looking for sponsors; call KBSZ at 928/668-1250 during office hours to see how much bang you can get for $5 or $10 bucks. Make sure you tell Jo you want to advertise on my show, which will be podcast, too.)

So yesterday morning, I had a clear idea of what I needed to do and what files I needed to preserve from the server. I made copies of all the files I needed to preserve and put them in a folder that I’d use to create a CD. This would make it easy to load them all back in after I wiped the computer clean and reinstalled the software.

And that’s where I hit a brick wall. The CD burner wouldn’t work. It kept giving me error messages.

No problem. I used my network to move all the files over to my main production computer and created the CD there. Now I was all ready to install.

I put the Mac OS X 10.4 Server Unlimited Client DVD disc into my server computer and slid the drawer close. Then I waited expectantly for the disc icon to appear onscreen.

Nothing happened.

I pushed the button to slide the disc in and out and in and out. Nothing. I pulled the disc out and put in the first install CD. (It comes on one DVD or a bunch of CDs; I’d rather use the DVD so I don’t have to switch discs.) Nothing happened.

I put the DVD into my production computer. It appeared onscreen just like it should.

Shit. I had a real hardware problem.

I blew canned air into the CD drive. Lots of dust flew around. Not good.

My office can be a very dusty place. Part of the problem is that a few years ago, some idiot decided to drive a perfectly good western business — the Big Corral horse boarding/riding facility — out of its downtown home and bulldoze all the trees, shrubs, and buildings off the property. In its place, the idiot planted a “For Sale” sign and erected part of an ugly chain link fence. To this day, the land lies open and barren, baking in the sun, supplying that side of town with all the dust it can handle. In my situation it’s a bit worse. I had some work done on the floors in my unit’s kitchen and bathroom and the sanding done by the floor guy sent more fine dust into the air than I thought possible. With a big fan on the back of each of my computers sucking air in, it’s no wonder they were filled with dust.

Of course, I’d already used the canned air on that computer. Just a few days before, I’d installed 512 MB of RAM. While the machine was wide open, I’d used the canned air on it and it was pretty clean. But I hadn’t dusted the drives.

Long story short, I couldn’t get the drive to work. And I didn’t have a spare. And the nearest Apple store didn’t have one. And Apple’s telephone support people told me a replacement drive would cost $354 with tax and shipping. But while I was waiting on hold to hear this bit of news, I discovered I could buy an external Firewire drive for about $100. Sheesh.

By this time, it was after 2 PM and too late to do any installation anyway. I figured I’d bring my new 80 GB external Firewire hard drive — the one I bought t help out my PowerBook — to the office, make a disk image of the DVD onto that, and use the disk image to install the server. If that didn’t work, I’d just buy an external CD-R for the computer and use that. Of course, all this was putting me back in schedule, but I really had no reason to rush. The Web sites were enjoying their new home and were paid up for 2 months.

Of course, I had to give the CD-R/DVD-R drive one last try at repair. So I went to the local hardware shop, bought a cheap ratchet screwdriver with a bunch of heads, and removed the drive from the computer. This was no easy task because although the computer opens easily enough, the CD drive and the Jaz drive I’d bought to go with it (and used about 4 times) were really jammed in there. Then, with the computer up and running without it — no reason to keep that software offline — I removed screws and protective plates until the optical lens and drive mechanism were revealed. I had to peel back two pieces of tape that were obviously in place to prevent the average user from doing what I’d done. I blew more air on it and moved the drive mechanism back and forth with my fingers. It didn’t look screwed up. Satisfied that I’d done all I could do, I put it all back together and stuffed it back into the computer. I fired it all back up and pressed the button to slide the drawer out.

The drawer wouldn’t slide out at all anymore. I’d mounted it a tiny bit too high and it was catching on the computer case.

So I opened up the computer while it was running and did what anyone else in my position would do: I banged on the top of the CD drive to nudge it down. The drawer slid open.

I stuck the DVD in there, fully realizing that that might be the last time I ever saw it. Then I slid the drawer back in.

Would you believe it? It worked!

I couldn’t believe that it was really reading the DVD as well as it was, so I decided to test it by starting the computer from the DVD. That worked, too.

Of course, I didn’t really want to install the software then. It was after 3 PM and I didn’t feel like tackling the installation that late in the day. So I restarted from the hard drive and let all that software come up and run again.

But now I have my work ready for me today.

Two Interesting Charters

I find that there’s more to flying helicopters than giving tours.

Lately, I’ve been getting calls from folks who want to use my helicopter for more than just transportation or tourism.

The first good assignment I got came a few months ago, when I flew a camera crew around the a carmaker’s test track in Arizona. I wrote about it in another blog entry. This past week, I did two more.

The first, on Tuesday, was for a professional photographer hired to take aerial and ground photographs of the new bridge being built over Burro Creek on state route 93. There’s already a beautiful bridge there and the construction crew is building a twin on the north side of it (the road runs pretty much east-west there). Burro Creek runs in a deep canyon there and the Sonoran desert landscape is breathtaking. The site is also far from civilization — about 55 miles north of Wickenburg and perhaps 20 miles south of Wickiup.

It was a cold morning when we left Wickenburg, so I left the helicopter’s doors on. It took us about 30 minutes at my top cruise speed (110-115 knots with two on board and full fuel) to reach the site. I set down in a fenced-in area where the construction folks were storing cactus to be replanted after work was done. I took the passenger door off while my client got his camera equipment out — a pair of Hasselblad medium format cameras with three different lenses. A construction truck pulled up and my client got out to talk to the driver. He came back and told me that the next time I landed, I could land on the new road right near the bridge. It was closed to traffic and was smoothly paved. We took off and began circling the bridges from various altitudes. My client snapped away, cranking the camera’s advance do-dad after each shot. He was perfectly at ease leaning out the door; he’d flown in many helicopters before. After about ten of fifteen minutes of that, I set down on the road near the bridge and shut down. (I had to set down on the edge of the road, as shown in the photo below, because the road was banked for a curve and the only real level spot I could find was at the very edge of the road.) My client climbed out, filled a smaller camera bag with equipment, and walked off to take his ground shots.

I pulled out my iPod and a book and settled down on the side of the road to read. Cars and trucks drove by and I wondered how many of them were headed to or from Wickenburg.

He was gone about 90 minutes. When he returned and finished fiddling around with his equipment, we climbed back on board and I fired the helicopter back up. The light had changed, so we did another 10 or 15 minutes of circles around the bridge at all different altitudes. Then he told me to head back and I broke off circling and headed back.He took some more photos on the way back — using up extra film on shots he thought he might be able to sell the construction folks. Then we set down on Eric Barnes’s dirt strip, on route 93 near the Santa Maria River, so I could put the door back on. With the door off, it was loud and my speed was limited to 100 knots. With it on, it was quieter and I could get it up to 120 knots. When we got back to Wickenburg, I’d put 1.4 hours on the Hobbs. My client paid for that, as well as for some waiting time.

Two days later, I was in Aguila, doing a job for the maker of a “breadcrumb” communications system. Breadcrumb systems, as they were explained to me, create a wireless network that can be used for voice, data, or video communications. The folks who hired me had an impressive system they wanted to mount in the helicopter. The idea was to have me fly around with the system and a few techs on board to see how well the system stayed connected to other breadcrumbs on the ground and how well video that one of my passengers shot could be seen at ground-based stations.

As the photo here shows, I had to remove both doors on the pilot side so they could mount the unit’s antenna. The breadcrumb box itself was positioned at the feet of the passenger behind me; you can barely see it in this photo because it’s just a flat box standing on one end. Although the unit can be powered by batteries, my helicopter has a 28 volt DC port that looks like a cigarette lighter port. The breadcrumb had a cable that could take this voltage, filter it, and step it down to the 12 volts it needed. So they just plugged it into my DC port. The boss of the operation wasn’t happy about the positioning of the antenna — he wanted to dangle it somehow under the helicopter’s body — but we soon proved that it was fine.

One of the techs also had a GPS and, at first, they wanted to mount it on my tailcone. They claimed that in the work they’d done with RC helicopters, they’d found that there was too much interference from the main rotor disk for the GPS to get a good signal. When I told them that my handheld GPS worked in the cockpit cabin, they decided (to my relief) to give it a try. (For the record, I would not have let them mount it on my tailcone. That’s much too close to the tail rotor! We might have mounted it on a skid if we had to.)

My passengers climbed aboard and we took off, flying circles around their base of operations at Robson’s Mining World. One guy in the back did the video while the guy beside him kept reporting on the status of the breadcrumb: green, blinking green, green, green, etc. We kept in touch with other breadcrumbs on the system at all altitudes and even when we flew behind a mountain. We only lost touch once, and that was for only a few seconds. The video went down to the guys on the ground, who clustered around a laptop set up on the hood of a car in the parking area. We did this for about 20 minutes, then landed.

I didn’t realize it then, but I was done with my assignment. What followed was about an hour spent giving everyone there a ride. I took them three at a time and did a 4-minute ride around the base, climbing up the mountain behind Robson’s and descending back into the desert for landing in my designated landing zone. When everyone had their ride, they told me to shut down and have lunch with them. Some other folks would be taking photos of the setup while I was eating.

I ate outside, with the guys from Rotomotion. They build RC helicopter systems to be used for surveillance and unmanned observation. The company founder started the company when he got frustrated that he couldn’t fly an RC helicopter. (Having owned one for a while, I know exactly how he feels; I couldn’t fly mine, either.) He wrote a computer program that would fly the helicopter for him. His company now builds helicopters that work with his Linux-based software system. They had three helicopters with them: a small electric model (on the table in this photo), a medium diesel model, and a large model powered by a chain saw engine.

The software is extremely cool. Once the helicopter is airborne, the software takes over and can hold it in an absolutely perfect out of ground effect hover. You can also tell it to go to certain coordinates at a certain altitude and it’ll go. It uses wireless communications to control an onboard camera or other equipment. If it loses its radio control signal, it’s programmed to return to its home base. Although they have a routine for software-controlled take off, they need a reliable but small altimeter to judge distance from the ground before a good landing program can be written. I have no doubt that they’ll add this feature soon. These guys definitely know what they’re doing.

While the rest of the group went off to go shooting out in the desert, a small group of us remained to watch the RC helicopters fly. A police officer from Chandler had come up to get a demonstration and we just watched. He said that the system has many applications in law enforcement and he seemed excited about it.

I went home a while later and put my dusty helicopter away. I’d logged 1.6 hours for the assignment — not much, but enough to make it worthwhile. And the technology I’d seen while I was out there was well worth the time spent.

A Trip Back East

Some photos from a trip back to New Jersey and New York for the Thanksgiving Holidays.

I didn’t want to go, but Mike talked me into it. Then we made flight reservations before I could change my mind. It would be a short trip. I’d fly out on Wednesday and return on Saturday. Only three nights, and those would be made comfortable with a room at the Glenpointe Marriott in Teaneck, NJ. Dinner with my family at my brother’s house in New Jersey on Thursday, dinner with Mike’s family at a restaurant in Queens on Friday, Dim Sum with family and friends in Ft. Lee, NJ on Saturday morning.

The New York/New Jersey metro area where I grew up and lived most of my life is very different from Wickenburg, AZ, where I live now. So different that I decided to take some photos to try to document some of the differences. I could have done better, but this is what I’ve got to share. This is the view from our hotel room in Teaneck, NJ, on Thursday morning. It had snowed and rained during the night and it was bitter cold that day.

This looks out to the southwest. As you can see, there are lots of tall trees, but they’re pretty much bare in late November. The overall effect is gray. A gray day with gray skies, gray trees, and gray pavement. I hated the gray of the New York metro area in the winter months. But it was the cold that finally chased me out of the area.

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Here’s another look from our hotel room window. This view looks toward the southeast. The highway in the foreground is I-95, which stretches from Maine to Florida. The body of water is some marshland that might just be close enough to the Meadowlands to be considered part of it. The gray buildings poking into the gray sky are the skyscrapers of New York City off in the distance. The pointy one on the left is the Empire State Building, which is now the tallest building in New York again. It formerly held that title from 1934 to 1977, when the World Trade Center was completed. With the WTC gone, this depression-era building is once again the tallest in the city.

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On Friday, we drove to Queens. Here’s a snapshot taken on the Cross Bronx Expressway, which goes from the George Washington Bridge (on the Hudson River), across the top of Manhattan and the middle of the Bronx, to two of the bridges to Long Island: the Whitestone and the Throgs Neck. When I was growing up, this area of the Bronx was filled with burned-out building shells, and we’d often see broken-down or abandoned cars being stripped on the side of the road as we drove through. But the buildings have they’ve since been renovated and people live there once again. Don’t get the idea that this is an up-and-coming area of New York, though. It’s still a poor, crime-ridden area. Ever read Bright Lights, Big City?

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I forgot to take photos the day before, on the way to my brother’s house. We took the New Jersey Turnpike (I-95 down) and there are lots of weird scenic things along that, like the big gas tanks that appeared in a scene of Stephen King’s The Stand and Newark Liberty International Airport. Next time.

Here’s a pretty poor photo of the roadway on the Whitestone Bridge.

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There are three bridges that’ll get you from the Bronx to Queens and Long Island and they’re all pretty similar in appearance: single-span suspension bridges. The Triboro Bridge has some nice art deco touches that make it my favorite of the three bridges, but that one’s much closer to Manhattan, which was out of our way. The Throgs Neck bridge has great views of the Long Island Sound which, in the summer, is full of sailboats and very picturesque. Of course, the Whitestone Bridge does offer the best long-distance views of Manhattan. I took a bunch of photos and this one was the best. It really gives you the flavor of new York from a distance. The tugboat with barge in the foreground, the plane departing La Guardia Airport (out of this shot on the left), and the huge cluster of buildings in midtown Manhattan. You can clearly see the Empire State Building almost dead center and CitiCorp Center (look for the slanted roof to the right). Astoria, Queens is in the foreground, on the other side of the water. And you can just about see the heavy black bridge of the train trestle that parallels the Triboro Bridge. If the World Trade Center were still standing, its towers would appear to the far left in this photo.

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If you’ve never been to New York and you have the opportunity to visit, don’t pass it up. New York is like no other place on earth. As I was telling a Phoenix cab driver just the other day, it’s one of the few U.S. cities that blend old and new in a way that leaves you breathless. Go downtown, to the Wall Street area, and see exactly what they mean by the “Canyons of Wall Street.” The streets are so narrow and the buildings are so tall that light rarely gets down to the street. Although midtown has more tall buildings, the streets are a bit wider. You won’t believe the crowds walking the streets during a weekday lunch hour, the sea of yellow cabs, the bicycle messengers, the street vendors. This time of year, they’re roasting chestnuts near Rockefeller Center and steam is rising from manhole covers and vents on the street.

I do love New York, but I don’t have enough money to live there the way I want to. And New York is one of the grayest places I know.

We didn’t get into the city during this trip. Next time I go back, I’ll take some photos. But you might have to wait a few years. Once in Queens, we hopped on the Cross Island Parkway to go to Mike’s Mom’s apartment. I took this shot out the front window of the car. It’s an interesting example of one of Robert Moses’s parkways. He built them all over Long Island — Queens is on the eastern end of Long Island — and this was probably one of his first. One of the trademarks of his roadways was his stone overpasses. They all look pretty much the same, but they’re really nicely executed. When you look at this photo, it’s hard to imagine that tens of thousands of people live within a mile of where it was taken.

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This stretch of roadway is sunken in and surrounded by trees. Mike and I had our first apartment together about 5 miles further down this road, in Bayside. We had a wonderful view of Littleneck Bay (you’ve heard, perhaps, of Littleneck clams?), but had to listen to a never-ending stream of cars going by far beneath our terrace.

At Mike’s mom’s place, we had bagels for breakfast. This is a photo of me holding a real New York bagel. Notice that it is large and plump. The outside is crusty and the inside is moist and almost doughy. It doesn’t have blueberries or cranberries or any other type of berry in it. This one has sesame seeds (my personal favorite), but they also come plain, egg, poppy seed, salt, pumpernickel, onion, cinnamon raisin, or everything. Everything means seeds, onion, and salt and is a real assault to the taste buds. A common way for a New Yorker to eat a bagel is to slice it open and toast it, then cover each half with cream cheese and slices of lox (smoked salmon). Some people add red onions, capers, and/or tomatoes. (I don’t like tomatoes on my bagels.) A quick spread of cream cheese is referred to as a “schmear” in New York; I prefer a more generous helping. You can’t get a good bagel anywhere outside of the New York metro area, although you can get decent ones here and there. Einstein Brothers makes a decent bagel. Bagels do not come in the grocery freezer section; anything you find there that is labeled a bagel is a mere imitation.

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The next time you go to New York, have a bagel as described above. It’s part of the New York experience and should be required for all serious visitors. And, while you’re at it, take a ride down to the Lower East Side and have a corned beef, pastrami, and tongue on rye sandwich at Katz’s Deli. Get that with mustard. Do not ask for it with mayonnaise; you will be forcibly removed from the premises and publicly laughed at out on the street. A Dr. Brown’s Creme soda is a nice accompaniment — and don’t forget the kosher pickle. Leave the Carnegie Deli for the tourists. What you’ll learn — among other things — is how to properly make a sandwich. There should be more meat than bread. That’s something they just don’t get outside the New York metro area.

But I digress, again. This is a photo of the Throgs Neck Bridge, taken from Mike’s mom’s patio. She’s on the 7th floor and has a nice view out this way. Beyond the bridge is the Long Island Sound. Imagine it with lots of sailboats and you’re imagining the view on a summer Sunday afternoon. Put some green leaves in the tree in the foreground to complete the picture.

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As you can see, it isn’t always grey in New York in the winter. Friday was a very nice day, although it was still bitter cold, with temperatures in the 30s and enough wind to make it feel a lot colder. Of course, it did get gray again on the next day.

Here’s a look at the George Washington Bridge from the foot of the Palisades. The Palisades, in case you’re wondering, are a line of cliffs along the Hudson River in New Jersey. This photo was taken from a boat basin/park area almost directly across the river from the northernmost end of Manhattan. The view is to the southeast.

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The GW Bridge has two decks — upper and lower — and is a major route between New Jersey and eastern New York. It’s actually the first bridge you get to if you sail up the river from New York Harbor. The next bridge is the Tappan Zee, which is at least 20 miles further upriver. To cross the river closer to downtown Manhattan, you can use one of two tunnels: the Lincoln (midtown at around 30th Street) and the Holland (downtown at around Houston).

When I was growing up in New Jersey, my family had a small boat that we used to take out in the river. I’ve been around Manhattan by boat more times than I can count. It’s a neat trip that you can do on the Circle Line tour boats. We also took a few perilous trips into New York Harbor and around the Statue of Liberty. I say perilous because our boat was really small and the water can get rough out in the harbor. I also remember going past Ellis Island long before it was fixed up and opened to the public. I’ve never been on the island, though.

Anyway, all those boat trips started at the base of the George Washington Bridge, on the New Jersey side. I can still remember the smell of the water at low tide, and the look of all those exposed barnacles. And the way the boat floated up and down as it was loosely tied at the boarding area. We didn’t swim in the river back in those days — it was too polluted south of the Tappan Zee — but we did fish in it, although we never ate any of the fish we caught.

Here’s a shot of one of the “waterfalls” coming down the Palisades to the Hudson River. It’s really probably just runoff from a storm drain, but when we were kids, it was a waterfall and it was one of the most beautiful things we’d ever seen. My family often drove along the river’s shore road on Sunday outings. That’s back in the days when taking a drive in the family car was a cheap and fun day out. There were no malls, no computer games, no cell phones. We’d get in the car and go for a drive and drink up everything we saw out the window. If it was autumn, we’d go to a place called Tices Farms, which had apples and doughnuts (note the spelling) and cider and pumpkins for sale. When I got out of the car to take this photo, the smell of wet leaves brought me back to a time when we would rake them into huge piles and take turns jumping in them. Leave stems would stick in our sweaters and hair and we’d be breathless in the cool autumn sun. I don’t know if you can see it clearly, but there’s ice in the water in this photo. We’re talking cold enough to make a waterfall freeze. Cold.

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The Palisades area of Bergen County in New Jersey is one of its more historic areas. Originally settled by the Dutch in the 1600s, it was a hotbed of activity during the Revolutionary War. Posted alongside roads all over the area are “Washington’s Retreat Route” signs. Yes. This is the area George Washington retreated from when we weren’t doing very well in the first war with the Brits. Why we need that on signs is beyond me. But the area is also full of walking trails that were probably built during the depression. In more than a few places, you can find stairways and paths that climb the Palisades. This is one example, that follows the road for a short distance before cutting right up the cliff. We did a lot of hiking in the area when we lived there. The views from the top of the Palisades are magnificent.

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I took the shot that appears below from the AirTrain that travels around Newark Airport. That’s New York in the background.
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This photo reminds me of a visit by one of my editors when we still lived in New Jersey. I picked him up at the airport and was driving north along the New Jersey turnpike toward our house. He looked off to the right as we climbed a bit of highway that passed over the marshes at the Meadowlands and said, “What city is that?” He was looking at New York. That’s when I realized that the skyline I’d grown up with wasn’t nearly as familiar to everyone else.

Am I homesick? Maybe a bit. Would I go back to live there again? Nope.

Been there, done that.

Flying for Food

Mike tries to arrange a group outing for lunch.

We were at Stan’s house on Saturday afternoon when Mike said, “Let’s go fly together somewhere tomorrow.”

Stan’s wife, Rosemarie, and Dave, another local pilot, were there. Stan flies a Cessna 182 and Dave just got a second plane, an RV-4, that he needed to build time in before he could take up passengers. Mike is half owner of a Grumman Tiger.

What followed was a discussion of various responsibilities the next day. We finally decided to meet at the airport at 1 PM and fly somewhere for lunch. The “somewhere” wasn’t decided.

On Sunday morning, during breakfast, Mike and I started to discuss where we could fly. We brainstormed and came up with a list of airports within flying distance that had restaurants nearby:

Restaurants on Field:
– Prescott
– Falcon Field (2!)
– Payson
– Kingman
– Deer Valley
– Glendale
– Scottsdale
– Chandler
– Winslow (weird hours)

Restaurants within walking distance:
– Seligman
– Valle
– Chiriaco Summit (CA)

Restaurants within free shuttle distance:
– Parker (restaurant at the casino)
– Bullhead City (restaurants across river in Laughlin)

Quite a selection. (Note that Wickenburg isn’t on this list. Why someone with a few bucks doesn’t build a restaurant on the field is beyond me. I know why I don’t do it: I’ve already been through the employer nightmare in Wickenburg and have learned my lesson.)

Sunday morning progressed. We had chores to do around the house. We even cleaned a small part of the garage! Then Mike made the fatal error of attacking the mistletoe that had begun killing some of our mesquite trees. (Mistletoe is a parasitic plant and, if not periodically cut out of the trees it infests, it’ll kill the trees.) It was hard work that required him to stand in awkward positions with a heavy saw over his head. After 45 minutes of that, he was too tired to do anything. Including fly.

That didn’t bother me. I wanted to fly anyway. I felt pretty confident that I could get to the destination around the same time as the two planes. Zero-Mike-Lima cruises at 110 knots, but I could easily push it to 120 knots with only two people on board. I’d already called Jim to invite him to join us with his Hughes 500c. Although he wasn’t sure he would, it would be nice to have two helicopters with the two airplanes. I was hoping we’d go to Falcon Field; I really love the Italian restaurant, Anzio’s Landing, on the southeast end of the runway. And there’s plenty of parking right out front.

By the time we got to the airport at 12:40 PM, the wind had kicked up a bit. It was blowing across the runway at about 8 to 10 knots. Airplane pilots don’t like crosswinds. When no one had arrived by 12:55, I got the feeling that Mike’s plan wasn’t going to become a reality.

Jim was already there, working on his Beech 18. He bought the Beech a few months ago in Florida and managed to leak 10 gallons of oil from one of its engines on the ferry flight back to Arizona. Since then, he’d been working on finding and fixing the leaks. He thought he had it taken care of when he flew out to Blythe for some touch-and-goes the other day, but the left engine was still oozing. A bad O-ring on one of the cylinders. He has to pull the cylinder to fix it. In the meantime, he’s begun pulling just about everything else. Last month, he pulled out the floor and replaced it. He’s now waiting for new runners on which to mount the rear seats. Yesterday, when we arrived, he was pulling instruments out of the panel and rearranging them in more logical positions. His helicopter was not at the airport. His wife, Judith, had already said she didn’t want to come with us, so Jim had decided to work on the Beech — something he could probably do for the rest of his life if he wanted to.

Stan and Rosemarie drove up right around 1 PM. I was talking to Jim when they pulled up, so I missed the beginning of their conversation with Mike. But the end result was that they’d come with us in the helicopter. Dave wasn’t coming. So a flight that started with potentially four aircraft ended up with just one.

Of course, with the helicopter, the list of dining opportunities increases. Helicopters don’t need no stinkin’ runway. There were at least five more places we could eat:
The Wayside Inn, near Alamo Lake, is the destination for Flying M Air‘s “Hamburger in the Middle of Nowhere.”
Robson’s Mining World, in Aguila, has a nice little cafe.
– Wild Horse West, near Lake Pleasant, has great burgers.
– The Kofa Cafe, out in Vicksburg Junction, used to be very good, but I haven’t been back since
my first experience with the new owner.
– A truckstop on I-10 south of Vicksburg has a dirt strip out back where you can land and not dust the truckers.

Mike wanted to go to the Wayside Inn, so that’s where we went. You can read all about it in another blog entry. The food ain’t bad and the atmosphere is definitely different, especially if you live in a big city and don’t have much exposure to an off-the-grid lifestyle.

We flew by way of Robson’s, which was pretty quiet that afternoon. Robson’s big anniversary celebration is coming up on the first Saturday in January, and I think they get more visitors in that one day than they get all year long. I do helicopter rides out there during the event and it’s always a lot of fun. Then we followed Ballard Wash (I think) from its narrow start almost all the way to Alamo Lake. I circled the Wayside once, trying to find a flag to judge the wind, then realized there wasn’t much wind there and just set down in my usual spot near the intersection of two dirt roads and the old, unmaintained dirt strip. (If you ever fly out there in a small plane, I recommend landing on the road rather than the strip; it’s a lot smoother and better maintained.) I kicked up a huge cloud of dust that drifted to the east as I cooled down the engine and shut down.

We crossed the road and went into the restaurant. Everyone at the bar looked at us. “I knew it was you,” the waitress said.

“Yeah, well…” I said. Everyone laughed.

We had lunch among the fish photos and trophies. The place was relatively quiet. The last time we’d been in there with helicopters, a crowd had gathered and the restaurant was completely full. I guess having four helicopters and a plane parked outside is a bit of a draw to the locals. But that day it was just us and a man eating at the bar. A few people came and went.

We paid up and left. As I started up, a few people in ATVs parked at the end of the dirt strip, facing us, ready for a show. They were not rocket scientists. Not only had they parked right in front of me, forcing me to depart in a different direction so as not to overfly them, but they were close enough to get seriously dusted when I took off. I took off to the northwest, along the road to Alamo Lake.

We did a tour of Alamo Lake, then the Santa Maria River, and then Date Creek before heading into Wickenburg. It had been a nice little outing — even if we were the only aircraft to participate.

A Trip to Sedona

I spend the day in Sedona, waiting for some passengers.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of flying two very nice people from Canada from Wickenburg to Sedona for the day. We arrived at Sedona Airport, after a scenic flight around Wickenburg, Prescott, and Sedona’s red rocks, around 11:30 AM — just in time for the Pink Jeep Tour shuttle to pick us up and bring us down to the town. My passengers were taking a Jeep Tour; I planned on just hanging around downtown until they were ready to return at 3 or 4 PM. I escorted them to the Jeep Tour desk, reminded them that they could change their reservation, and watched them reserve a Jeep and driver all to themselves for departure at 1 PM. Then I left them to walk around town on my own.

The Pink Jeep Tour company’s offices are in “uptown” Sedona. That’s the heart of the tourist district in the northwest corner of town at the mouth of Oak Creek Canyon. The tourist shops that line both sides of the street there are dwarfed by the massive red rock formations behind them. But all attention in uptown Sedona is concentrated on those shops. I admit that mine was, too.

I hadn’t been to the town of Sedona for years. I’ve been flying in quite regularly with passengers, but I seldom come down off the mesa where the airport is located. There’s a restaurant up there and I usually have breakfast or lunch or whatever while my passengers explore the town on their own. They’re usually gone about 2 hours at the most, so I busy myself with a book while I’m waiting. It’s a nice, relaxing place.

But yesterday, my passengers wanted a longer stay in town. And since the Pink Jeep people offered me a lift in the shuttle, too, I went down the hill with them.

I walked the few blocks of uptown Sedona at a leisurely pace. I saw lots of T-shirt shops and lots of souvenir shops. The usual collection of real and fake Indian crafts and jewelry. Imported Mexican rugs. Jeep tour companies. Reservation centers. The wonderful map and bookstore that had been in one of the shopping areas was gone and I was sorely disappointed. I’d depended on that shop for reading material while I waited and it didn’t appear, at first, as if there were another bookstore in town. I finally found one across the street from the Pink Jeep storefront, the last shop on my walking tour.

My Sedona passengers from last week’s flight had spent only 90 minutes in town before returning to the airport. They called Sedona a “tourist trap.” And frankly, as I walked the streets, I couldn’t argue with them. But I hadn’t really expected it to be any different. I don’t know what they expected. After all, take a beautiful place, make its beauty well-known, and people will flock there. When enough people flock there, the tourist shops will start springing up like mold on old bread. After a while, those shops (like mold) completely cover the area, masking what people found so beautiful in the first place.

Now I don’t want to give you the idea that Sedona is “ruined.” It isn’t. There are still plenty of beautiful sights around town. Sadly, there are so many people there to view those sites, you’re always part of a crowd. You need to come to Sedona with your own Jeep and a trail map to get away from the herd. Bring a picnic lunch and your camera. And, for heaven’s sake, don’t come on a weekend!

I ran into my passengers on the street just before they went to lunch. They invited me to join them, but I felt as if I would be intruding, so I declined. I had lunch at a tea shop across from the Pink Jeep place and sat outside on a narrow balcony to eat and read the book I’d bought in the bookstore down below. It was windy and rather cold up there, so I didn’t last long.

Afterwards, I went for a walk back the way I’d come. That’s when I saw the Hummer tour sign. They had a 1-hour tour leaving immediately. It was the “Jeep Eater” Tour. Supposedly, this tour took passengers places were Jeeps couldn’t go. I pulled out my credit card and, minutes later, was seated in the front passenger seat of a Hummer, about 6 feet away from its driver. (Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that wide, but it sure seemed like it.) There were two passengers, a couple from Baton Rouge, in the open-air seating behind us. That was it.

The road that Jeeps can’t drive on isn’t in Sedona. It’s halfway back to Cottonwood, off of 89A. It’s a power line road — that’s a road built to maintain a power line — and frankly, there were only about 4 places on the whole ride that I would have been uncomfortable about taking my Jeep. That’s not to say that my Jeep couldn’t have done it. But I’m not sure that it could have done it with me at the wheel. During the whole ride, the driver kept pointing out other roads that the couple from Baton Rouge could explore on their own with the ATV’s they’d trailered up from home. The driver was obviously working hard to add value to the ride and maximize his tip potential. Whatever. It managed to stretch the tour out to 90 minutes, bringing us back to Sedona just when my passengers were due back. In case couldn’t read between the lines in this paragraph, I don’t recommend this tour. It wasn’t worth the $100 I spent on the tour plus tip. But at least I know what it’s like to ride in a real Hummer.

I hurried back toward the Pink Jeep place and found one of my passengers outside a gift shop. His wife was inside, shopping. They’d had a great time and had looked for me to join them before they left. I didn’t tell them about the Hummer.

I left them for a short while to pick up a gift for a friend of mine and a piece of apple pie that was really good. Then we got back on the shuttle, rode up to the airport, and flew home.

I’m glad I got to go to Sedona for the day. I feel all caught up with things down there. And I’m sure I’ll be back soon — not only by helicopter, but perhaps by Jeep to see just what my Jeep can do.