Planning the Big Move

I make plans to move my “rolling mansion” and helicopter from Wenatchee to Page, AZ.

My last cherry drying contract for the season ends on Wednesday, August 25. I need to be in Page, AZ with my trailer and helicopter by the middle of September. I’m just starting to plan for the move.

This is an exercise in logistics that I go through twice a year. Every time it’s slightly different.

The fun starts on Thursday, when my husband arrives on a late flight into Wenatchee. We’ll spend a few days in the area on a mini vacation. It’ll be the first time I’ve seen him since May 15. He goes home on Monday morning.

The move starts on Sunday, August 29 (weather permitting) with a flight over the Cascades with the helicopter to Boeing Field (BFI). With perfect weather, the flight should take less than an hour. But I’ve only had perfect weather once in the ten or so times I’ve made the flight. The last time I did it, it took about 4 hours because I had to fly all the way down to the Columbia River at Hood River to get under the clouds.

Planned Routes

Two different routes to get from Wenatchee to Seattle by helicopter. The red route includes a stop at my friend Don’s house.

Moitek Mount

My new Moitek Video Mount, pictured in my friend Erik’s helicopter.

At BFI, I’ll take possession of my new Moitek Video Mount, which I bought from the estate of a helicopter friend who passed away last year. A videographer who used the mount with my friend will be meeting with us to show us how to set it up. He’ll bring along a camera and get some footage on a flight down to Longview, where we’ll meet with the mount’s designer and maker to ask questions and get other tips. I’m hoping my friends Don and Jim, each R44 owners, will accompany us for this little trip. I’d love to get some air-to-air video for a project I’ve been working on for some time.

Back at BFI, I’ll drop off the helicopter for some maintenance. It needs its blades painted (again) and since I’m coming up on my 100-hour inspection, I figured I’d have it taken care of then. It’ll stay at the maintenance shop until I return in September to pick it up.

I’ll get back over the mountains by plane or helicopter (piloted by a friend) on Monday morning. I’ll spend the rest of the day and most of the next prepping the RV for the long drive. I’ll need to put away all loose items and clean up as well as I can.

RV Route

The RV Route

On Wednesday, September 1, I’ll hook up and roll out of here. The plan (so far) is to go to Walla Walla, where I’ll spend a few days at an RV park I know. Walla Walla has some great restaurants and wineries. It’ll be like my own little vacation on the way home.

On Saturday or Sunday, I’ll get an early start and hit the freeway for the 10-hour drive to Salt Lake City. If some friends are available to meet me, I’ll go in on Saturday; otherwise, I’ll do it on Sunday. I’m planning on parking overnight at the Draper Camping World, which should be affordable and convenient. I probably won’t even bother unhooking my truck.

On Monday morning, I head out early for Page. I hope to get there early in the afternoon and find a place to park my rig for about a week. Weather permitting, Mike will fly up to Page in his plane and pick up me and Alex the Bird to take us home. The truck and RV will remain at Page until I return with the helicopter.

On Tuesday or Friday, I’ll head up to Seattle by commercial airliner. Then, on Wednesday or Saturday, I’ll start the long flight to Page. It’ll take 8 to 10 hours, so I’m likely to do it over two days. I might have a passenger; I’ll know more this week. If I do, we’ll be doing the flight on Saturday/Sunday to Las Vegas, possibly with part of the flight along the California Coast, and I’ll be going on to Page alone. If not, I’ll do the flight on Wednesday, making the best time possible to Page by flying through Oregon, Idaho, and Utah on pretty much the same route I followed to get here before the start of the season.

In Page, I’ll set up camp — probably in the campground I lived in for two months two years ago — and offer aerial photo flights over Lake Powell. I have clients meeting with me starting on September 20, so there’s definite business for at least 5 days. On September 25, I fly the helicopter home, hopefully with a passenger (if she hasn’t forgotten). I’m not sure when I’ll retrieve the truck and RV; it depends on whether I have a training video shoot the following week in California.

So if you were wondering what I’ll be doing for the next month or so of my life, you now know.

I’ll be interesting to see how closely I can follow these plans in the weeks to come.

Living with Dial-Up Networking

It really isn’t that bad.

When I left the golf course RV park in Quincy last week, I also left behind the incredibly frustrating Internet service I’d been stuck with there. I knew that wherever I camped on or near the orchard belonging to my last client of the season, WiFi access would not be an option. (Heck, I didn’t even know for sure if I’d be able to get an electric or water hookup.)

I’ve had Bluetooth tethering capabilities on my Verizon Wireless service for more than 3 years now. It costs me $15/month extra for unlimited bandwidth. (Don’t look for that plan now, folks; current plans all cap the bandwidth; I’m grandfathered in.)

Tethering, in case you’re not familiar with the term, involves introducing your computer to your Bluetooth-enabled smartphone to pair them wirelessly via Bluetooth. Your computer can then use your phone to “dial into” the cell phone provider’s Internet service. This is referred to as dial-up networking or DUN. Once connected, you can surf the Web, send and receive e-mail, and do just about anything else you could do if you were connected by WiFi. The connection isn’t fast, but it isn’t agonizingly slow, either. The only drawback is that when an incoming call connects, you can’t work online. But when you hang up, you can continue working — a feature I just discovered today.

The image below shows what the right end of my computer’s menu bar looks like when I’m connected. The modem menu shows connection time; in this example, only 12 seconds. The Bluetooth menu shows that I’m connected to a Bluetooth device (my BlackBerry). I keep AirPort turned off because there aren’t any WiFi networks around and keeping it turned off saves a tiny bit of battery life. When I want to disconnect, I choose Disconnect Bluetooth DUN from the Modem menu. After a “disconnecting” message scrolls by a few times, the connection is severed and the timer disappears. To connect, I’d choose Connect Bluetooth DUN from the same menu.

Connected Menu Bar

(If you’re interested in how-to information about DUN, check out “Setting Up Your Mac to Use a Smartphone’s Internet Connection,” which I wrote for InformIT a while back. It should still be up-to-date enough to be useful.)

I used tethering for most of my Internet access the first season I was in Washington state. Back then, I’d arranged for Internet service but it was disconnected because an involved party had been beaten with a stupid stick. I fell back to DUN for access and was glad I had it.

Back then, however, my computer and cell phone didn’t talk to each other very well. I had a Treo 700p in those days and maybe that was part of the problem. If an incoming call disconnected me, I’d have to do a battery pull on the phone, restart the computer, and repair to get a new connection set up. It was a pain in the butt so I tended to stay online for very short periods of time, dreading the possibility of an incoming call.

The memory of that has stuck with me. But either my BlackBerry Storm (v1) is more gracious about disconnections or Apple has improved its Bluetooth connection routines in Snow Leopard because I’m not suffering the same symptoms. If I get an incoming call, I tell my computer to disconnect, talk on the phone, and then reconnect easily when done. No battery pulls, no computer restarts.

As a result, I’ve been staying connected for as long as an hour at a time.

Where I AmMind you, I’m camped on a construction site across the street from a cherry orchard 8 miles up a canyon from Wenatchee, WA. (The tiny red X on the map marks the approximate spot.) It’s amazing to me that (1) my cell phone works so well up here, usually giving me five [legitimate] bars and (2) I’m able to stay connected to the Internet for so long.

But — and I hate to rub this in for all the iPhone devotees out there — I chose Verizon and skipped the iPhone thing because I often go to places like this and I often need tethering for Internet access. Does AT&T have coverage here? Maybe. Does the iPhone offer tethering without a complex, warranty-voiding jail-break? No.

Yes, it’s a pain in the butt to have to literally dial in every time I want to connect to the Internet. But for $15/month unlimited access, I can live with it — at least until I get home.

Moving Day…and the Day After

Or how I lost a day of my life.

On Friday, I moved my helicopter and RV from Quincy, WA to Wenatchee Heights, where I’ll be based for the next three weeks.

Step 1: Move the Helicopter

The move started early. I drove over to the ag strip where my helicopter was parked at 7 AM. I untied the blades, did my preflight, and cleaned the windows, which were coated with dust. By 7:20 AM, the engine was running and the blades were spinning. On my GPS, I dialed in the waypoint for the previous year’s landing zone (LZ). The goal was to take the shortest route to the LZ. Not only was I trying to save money — every minute in flight literally costs me a few dollars — but I was supposed to meet my client at 8 AM and I didn’t want to be late.

I launched by 7:25 and headed out. The guys at the ag strip were flying and I had to assume that their competition on the other side of town were also flying. So I climbed to about 600 feet AGL, hoping to stay out of their way. I adjusted my course to head directly to my old LZ. The GPS told me it would take 18 minutes.

I overflew the Columbia River south of where route 28 winds down from the Quincy Basin toward Crescent Bar. The river, more than 1200 feet below me, looked inviting — I love to fly low-level over its surface. But I could clearly see the action of the wind on the water. It would be a bumpy ride. And it would definitely not be the quickest, most direct route. So I ignored it and continued along my route.

My RouteIt was the first time I’d flown over some of that terrain, but it wasn’t very interesting. I did notice some abandoned wheat fields in an unlikely place. And I got a great view down to Wenatchee when I crossed the ridge separating Malaga from the hills to the south. My LZ was on the side of a hill just beyond the next ridge, so I approached from the east and turned west after I’d crossed the ridge and had it in view.

Helicopter ParkingI wasn’t planning on landing in last year’s LZ, though. I was going to land on a construction site where I planned to park my RV. I came in for my approach and zeroed in on the patch of dirt I thought was level. A huge cloud of dust erupted and, for a moment, I thought I’d have white-out conditions. But the cloud drifted away as I touched down. Unfortunately, the LZ wasn’t as level as I thought and I just didn’t like it. So I lifted up, sending even more dust into the air, and flew to a known level spot close to last year’s LZ. I set down in the grass among weeds and flowers right beside a pond ringed with cattails and only a few yards from some of the cherry trees I was hired to protect. As I cooled the engine, I watched the dust cloud I’d created moments before drift off to the southwest.

Zimmerman PondI locked up and made a short hike through the orchard, up to the packing shed where I’d be meeting my client. It was a pleasant morning with clear blue skies and not the least indication of rain anytime in the near future. At the top of the hill, I looked back down at the pond and the mountains beyond it. My helicopter looked like a red speck on the grass. The cherry trees seemed to embrace it while rocky hillsides studded with other orchards looked on.

Step 2: Get Back to Quincy

I met my client near his packing shed after taking another quick look at my planned RV parking spot. It was 8:10 AM when we headed back to Quincy.

My client and I had a nice chat along the 40-mile drive to Quincy. I learned a lot about the cherry business — there’s so much to it! I gave him a copy of my Cherries: from Tree to Truck DVD; I hope he gets a chance to see it.

He dropped me off at my truck at the ag strip. Before I left him, we talked about the other helicopter parked there. The pilot, who was on cherry contracts just like I was, had parked it there two weeks ago, before heading back to Seattle. Although he was on call, he didn’t take his status as seriously as I did. If it rained, I doubted that he’d make it back in time to fly. But since rain didn’t seem like a possibility, no one would know. It irked me and shocked my client.

Step 3: Move the RV

The RV was mostly packed up and ready to go. But since I didn’t think I was going to have water where I was going, I spent a little extra time and washed out Alex the Bird’s cage. It was hot, sweaty work and I did it in gym shorts and a tank top, not really caring who saw me. I let it dry in the sun while I vacuumed the trailer one more time. Then I dumped the tanks and put away the power cord and hoses, wiping mud off the cord and water hose before neatly coiling them up and putting them away. It was important to keep everything neat and clean.

Inside the RV, I strapped down the movables — my La-Z-Boy chair, Alex’s cage, and the big television on its swing arm. Alex was already in his travel box, waiting on the grass in the shade of my neighbor’s RV. Then I pushed the button that brought in the slides, the button that brought up the stablizer legs, and the button that sent down the landing gear to raise the front end. All of these buttons are in a remote control, so I could walk around the RV while I did all this, doing the work of two people.

I dropped the truck tailgate and backed it up to the RV’s gooseneck hitch. Even though it’s a fifth wheel trailer, we put a conversion kit on it so it would mate with our existing gooseneck ball. It took me about six tries to get the hitch centered over the ball. Then another button push brought the hitch down onto the ball. The landing gear rose as the truck’s back end descended with the weight of the trailer. Soon, the feet were off the ground and the legs were fully retracted. I lifted them the final 10 inches and used the pins to hold them in place. I connected the chains, the pin, the brake cable, and the power cable. I brought up the tailgate. I was almost done.

On the Road AgainI had to drive forward about four inches to free one of the wheel chocks. I collected them and put them away, then locked up all the hatches and did a final walk-around. I was ready to go.

The drive to Wenatchee Heights was uneventful. I drove slowly; there was no reason to rush. The last few miles were the toughest — a winding rode that climbed the hillside to the orchard. When the pavement turned to gravel, I pushed the 4WD button to give me extra traction. I finally reached the driveway for the building site where I’d be parking and stopped the truck.

I use small construction style cones to help me back up. I place them on the boundaries of where I want to park. I can easily see them and refer to them in the rearview mirrors. I fetched them from one of the RV’s storage cabinets and put them out. Then I started backing down the gravel drive. The first time I touched the brakes, the whole rig slid 6 to 12 inches before coming to a stop. Clearly, this would be tricky. I repeated the backup, stop, backup, stop process, inching down the hill. Finally, my truck’s wheels left the gravel and hit the dirt of the construction site. Suddenly, I had traction.

Back Window ViewI got out to reposition the cones and continued the process. Eventually, I had the RV positioned just about where I wanted it, with its big back window facing out over the valley (see cell phone photo for view) only a few feet from the edge of a cliff.

One more thing: leveling. I checked the level just inside the RV’s door. I’d need to raise the driver’s side. I pulled out the Lego-like leveling blocks and stacked them 3 high in a stair-step configuration. I backed up another 12 inches, feeling the RV rise onto the blocks. I stopped and got out to take a look. I was very surprised to find both left side wheels centered perfect atop their blocks.

Parking SpotFrom that point, setting up was a matter of disconnecting the truck and pushing a bunch of buttons on the remote control. Within 20 minutes, the RV was fully set up, with Alex back in his cage.

It was about noon.

Where I Went Wrong: Lunch

I decided to reward myself with lunch out. All day long, I’d been craving fried chicken but for some reason, I decided to visit the Thai restaurant I’d been to on previous summers. They made a good Pad Thai and a great black rice pudding. I figured I’d eat half the Pad Thai and bring the rest home. I’d also hit the supermarket to pick up a few things.

For some reason, the TV in the Thai place was tuned into the Discovery Channel, which was playing a show about army ants. Those are the ants that can swarm and kill people. No people were killed during my meal, but various poultry and large insects were. Not having my iPad along, I had nothing else to look at. Whether that was a contributing factor to the next 36 hours is unknown.

I put aside half the Pad Thai and ordered the black rice pudding. I was about halfway finished with it when I began feeling unusually stuffed. Unusual because I know I can eat a lot more food than I had. I put the pudding aside, too, and got boxes for both of them. They were too tasty to leave behind.

I went to Safeway and did some food shopping — mostly salad stuff. I felt bloated the whole time.

I drove the 8 miles back up to my campsite and put away the groceries. I still felt stuffed.

I talked to my husband, Mike. I mentioned how stuffed I felt. I was spending a lot of time in my comfy chair, mostly because I felt kind of sick.

By 5:30, I had my Sea Bands on. They’re elasticized bracelets that fight nausea and they usually work pretty well for me.

By 6 PM, I was vomiting. I hate to vomit. I can’t understand how people can be bulimic; vomiting is the most disgusting thing a person can do.

As you might expect, I felt a lot better when I was done. That’s the thing I hate most about vomiting. No matter how much I hate doing it, I know I’ll feel much better when I’m done.

After rinsing my mouth out with water and using damp washcloth on my face, I settled back into my comfy chair to read.

Must have been something I ate, I said to myself. Better not eat those leftovers.

The Misery Continues

I went to bed around 9 PM after watching some TV. Even though I was off the grid, the TV in the bedroom is DC and the antenna was able to get a very good picture on 6 channels. I watched something called MI-5 on PBS. I liked it.

I fell asleep around 10. By 11:30, I was awake again, feeling sick. Soon I was hugging the toilet again.

I didn’t think it was possible to vomit something I’d eaten nearly 12 hours before, but apparently it was.

I slept like crap.

The Day I Lost

When I woke up, it was fully light out — sometime after 6 AM, I think. I ached all over — every single muscle in my body. It took me 30 minutes to summon the strength to get out of bed. I went to the bathroom, did my business, and went right back to bed for another 30 minutes.

Alex, still covered, started to make noises. I dragged myself out of bed again to uncover him. Then I sat down on the sofa near his cage for another 20 minutes. I thought about coffee, which I’d have to perk or drip; without electricity, my coffee maker was useless. So was the microwave. At least Alex’s breakfast was ready — I’d made him scrambled eggs for the next few days before leaving Quincy. I cut some up for him and put them in his dish. Then, since my stomach was still feeling iffy, I decided to brew some Hopi tea instead of coffee.

I downed two ibuprofen to deaden the pain in my muscles. It worked.

I spent the entire morning dozing fitfully in my comfy chair, eventually drinking the entire 18-ounce cup of tea.

I had a problem. The temperature was expected to reach the high 90s that day and get even hotter the next two days. The trailer, parked in the sun, would likely get at least 10°F hotter. I had a 2000-watt Honda generator in one of the RV’s cabinets. I wasn’t sure whether it would run the air conditioning. But one thing I was sure of: there was no way I would be able to lift it out of the cabinet by myself. I was just too weak.

There was a possible solution, though. I was on a construction site for a vacation home. Construction had ceased, but not before electricity had been run to the site. The day before, I’d had enough foresight to see if the power was turned on — I’d plugged in a portable fan and it had run. What I needed to do before I could think further about the generator was to contact the property owner and see if he’d let me tap into his power supply. (He already knew I was parking there.)

That meant doing the following:

  1. Taking a shower. I needed one. I stunk.
  2. Dressing. For obvious reasons.
  3. Walking to the site next to mine, a distance of about 1/4 mile round trip, to talk to the guy next door, who was working on his home’s construction.
  4. Getting the name and phone number of the owner of my site.
  5. Calling the owner of my site and getting his permission.
  6. Running one or more power cords the 100+ feet from the power box to my RV’s power port.
  7. Seeing if the air conditioner would run on a 110v connection over 14 gauge wire.

It took me nearly two hours to do all this. I lucked out at every step of the way. My neighbor was still there, he had the phone number, the owner answered the phone, the owner said yes, I only needed one power cord to cover the distance, the air conditioning worked.

Exhausted, I went inside and settled back into my comfy chair. I dozed on and off for a few hours. Then I stretched out on the sofa and dozed on and off for another few hours. Then I moved into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed where I dozed on and off for another few hours.

Somewhere in there, I made myself some cereal with bananas and ate it. I wasn’t hungry, but I felt empty and I didn’t think that was a good thing.

I also spoke to my husband and a fellow cherry drying friend. My friend, in fact, offered to help with the generator if I needed to. It would mean a 3-hour round-trip drive for him. I’m glad he didn’t have to do it.

Alex was very well-behaved. I think he sensed that I was sick.

At 7 PM, I forced myself to stay awake. I was worried that I’d sleep fitfully throughout the night if I slept too much during the day. That’s about when the headache started. I took three Extra Strength Tylenol and tried to read.

I had three crackers with cashew butter on them for dinner.

At 9 PM, I was back in bed. I tried to watch TV, but the picture kept digitizing, which was weird. (Could the A/C connection screw up the RV’s circuitry enough to mess up a TV reception?) I was asleep before 10 PM.

I’m Back

Despite going to bed with a splitting headache, I slept like a log. I woke up feeling 95% myself. What a difference a day makes!

My ViewAlthough I pushed myself a bit too hard with a short hike in the orchard this morning — and was rewarded with a period of lightheadedness — I was able to do things today. I shot some photos around the orchard. I set up the BBQ grill and the outdoor mat. I took out my folding chair and set it up facing my wonderful view (see cell phone photo). I had a real breakfast (cereal with yogurt and banana) and real lunch (grilled chicken satay). I put a bunch of photos online and I wrote two blog posts. I even caught up on my Twitter and email accounts and moderated blog comments.

Yesterday was a lost day. I’m glad it’s the first one in a long time.

Packing Up, Moving Out

Moving day is upon me.

On Wednesday (yesterday), I got a call from my last client for the season. Instead of starting the contract on July 25, he wanted to start on July 22.

Thursday (today).

That seemed to work out fine for me. My previous contracts all ended on Wednesday and there was no rain in the forecast. So even through two of my clients were still picking cherries, it was unlikely that they’d need me to extend. A quick call to each of them confirmed this.

I’d been planning to move on Sunday. Or maybe Monday. Now it looked like I’d have to move on Friday.

The fifth wheel RV that I’ve been living in since the start of the season is in Quincy, WA in a campground on a golf course with a full RV hookup. My helicopter is parked across the street at an ag strip there. I need to get both of them up to Wenatchee Heights, WA, and park them on an orchard.

Today, I’m driving up to Wenatchee Heights to meet with my client and agree on a place for me to park. I have my eye on a spot, but the land doesn’t belong to my client and he’s not sure how to contact the owner. I’m hoping I don’t have to park in the orchard. The roads in there are very narrow and I’m worried about getting my 36-foot rig around the corners. I’m also thinking that there probably isn’t 36 feet of level space in the whole place.

This afternoon, I’m going to a salmon grill party at the ag strip where I’ll probably give helicopter rides to my hosts and their families.

Then I’ll come back to the RV and pack it up.

RVs are great because they’re set up for living and can be very comfortable. Mine is extremely comfortable. But when an RV is on the move, all loose items need to be stowed. When you spend weeks parked in one place, you tend to take out a lot of items. I need to put all these things away where they won’t go flying as I drive around curves and down bumpy roads. Among the larger of these things is my 24-in iMac computer, which has been sitting on my desk since I got here and unpacked. I’ll be putting it away in its box until I get home from my travels at the end of September. I have a laptop — actually, three, but who’s counting? — with me for the book project I’ll likely start on Saturday.

I expect packing and cleaning to take most of the day. By morning, I need to have it 90% done.

Tomorrow, I’ll fly the helicopter up to the orchard at about 7 AM. My client will meet me there again and drive me back to Quincy — a distance of about 40 miles. Then I’ll finish packing up, take care of all the dumping and disconnecting, get Alex out of his cage and into his travel box, close up the RV, and hook it up to the truck. With luck, all that will go smoothly and I’ll be on site at Wenatchee Heights by noon.

There’s a pretty good chance that I won’t have any hookup when I get to my next parking space. That’s three weeks without water, power, or sewer connections. Power isn’t an issue; I have a solar panel on the roof that should keep the batteries charged and a 2000 watt generator if I need more power. (I really don’t want to run the generator if I don’t have to, but with daytime temperatures getting into the 90s, it looks as if I’ll need it just to run the air conditioner.) Water could be more of a problem. I know I can’t last three weeks with 62 gallons of water. I’m hoping I can run a hose from a water source to the RV to fill its tanks occasionally. We’ll see how that works out.

I’m looking forward to the move. I was actually starting to get pretty tired of this place — especially with no work for the past four weeks. But I am nervous about it. This is a known; where I’m going is an unknown. Hopefully, later this morning I’ll have a better handle on where I’ll be parked and what’s available to me. I can take it from there.

Details to come…

Internet Frustration with a Crappy ISP

Sometimes it’s better to have no Internet service than bad internet service.

For the past two months, I’ve been living in my RV at a golf course campground in Quincy, WA. This is my third June/July here.

Some Background

Wireless AntennaThe first year, I tried to get Internet service here using what I was told was the only local provider. The provider uses wireless Internet. It picks up a signal from a nearby tower using an antenna it placed on the golf course’s pro shop roof. The signal goes down to a router and broadcasts Internet service via WiFi to those within range.

That first year, it worked okay for the short time it was available. But the groundskeeper was convinced that its wireless signal was messing with the irrigation system’s wireless signal and had it taken down after two weeks.

The second year, the service was up and running again. My camper was parked in the second space from the pro shop (again) and I was able to connect. I paid the $40 monthly fee and had relatively decent service, although speed was often an issue, especially in the evening.

This year, I’m parked in space #5 which is long enough for my new rig. I soon discovered that although the golf course was using the same provider, that provider had changed the way it did business. Rather than one router for the pro shop and campers, they had three routers installed: one for the pro shop, one as a “hotspot” for the restaurant, and one for the campers.

The Trouble Begins

The trouble began when I first attempted to connect to the RV-dedicated router. The system they used required my MAC address. I’m using three devices — my iMac, my MacBook Pro, and my iPad. So we had to set all that up over the phone. He got the MAC address wrong for one of them, causing all kinds of problems.

By the next day, I realized that I couldn’t hold a signal with the router. My Mac was reporting 3 bars when connected, but half the time, it couldn’t even see the router. Turns out, these idiots had installed a router for a campground that didn’t have enough range to cover the whole campground. I guess if you want Internet service, you need to park next to the pro shop building.

So they switched me to the password-protected hotspot router, warning me that they’d change the password once a month. Whatever. It seemed to work so I was okay.

Seemed is the appropriate modifier here. In reality, it only worked about 80% of the time. Sometimes, the router would disappear. Other times, it would be there, but would not send an IP address. Other times, it was there and sent my devices IP addresses, but those addresses couldn’t connect to the Internet. Outages like this would be frequent on some days, lasting anywhere from 2 minutes to 2 hours. One night the Internet went offline around 7 PM and didn’t come back until 10 AM the next day. The golf course pro shop was having the same problems.

The amount of frustration this caused me cannot be measured. I’d be working on an e-mail message or blog post and not be able to send it. I’d be uploading movie files to a publisher who had me on a deadline and the upload would fail. I’d try to download updates for my computer and they’d stall and eventually fail. I’d have a client calling, asking what I saw on weather radar and I couldn’t get online to look.

And then it would just work again.

Even when it did work, the speed of the connection was sometimes agonizingly slow. I mean so slow that it caused physical pain — from pulling my hair out — to use a Web browser. I couldn’t even watch YouTube videos. Even tethering from my BlackBerry has enough bandwidth for YouTube.

Service sucked and I was paying $40/month for it.

I started seriously considering a MiFi.

The D & J Show

Then there was the surprise password change.

The company is run by two guys. One guy, D, is the money guy and knows next to nothing about technical matters. He’s the guy that answers the phone when you call for help. The other guy, J, is the tech guy and I think he probably does know what he’s doing — at least well enough to get by. When you need help, you’re directed to call his cell phone, which he never answers. He also doesn’t respond to text messages or return calls.

D decided, one day, that too many people had the password for Hotspot and it was time for a change. So he changed it to the word golf. Unfortunately, 4-character passwords were not appropriate for the type of network security they were using. So, as a result, it wouldn’t work for anyone, even if they had the password.

J, upon hearing about the problem, changed it back to the old password. That fixed things — or at least brought them back to their semi-functional service level — for a while.

Sputnik

Last week, I flew up to Chelan to spend a day with a friend. I got back around 7:30 PM, and like any other computer-dependent geek, went to check my e-mail.

Sputnik?

The typos on this login screen should give you an idea of the level of professionalism I’m dealing with here.

I couldn’t connect. The router had disappeared. Instead, there was a different router name that included the word hotspot and was not password protected. I told my computer to connect. Still no joy. I launched my Web browser. And the sign-on screen shown here is what I saw.

I was paid up for another three weeks, but I had never been given login information. All I had was a password. I tried all different combinations of my name with the password to connect. No joy.

I got pissed off. I called the number on the screen and got an answering machine telling me that D was on the phone. Not likely. He was more likely gone for the day. J didn’t answer his phone. I started leaving messages, and they were not friendly. I was pissed off.

In the morning, nothing had changed. No one returned my calls — as if I had reason to expect that they might. I started calling again and still not getting through. I had to connect via BlackBerry Bluetooth tethering just to check the weather and my e-mail.

At 10 AM, when I called J again, he answered the phone. (I heard that hell froze over that day, too.)

“We upgraded the service yesterday and put in a new router,” he told me, as if I had no reason to be angry. “It should work a lot better now.”

He was full of crap but I believed him for about 10 minutes. That’s how long it took to set up an account for me and get me connected. He’d already hung up when I realized I had the same crappy service I’d had for the past month and a half.

And now I had the extra bonus of having to log in several times a day.

The login process is especially frustrating on my iPad, which won’t remember my user ID or password and must be prompted to connect by trying to access a simple Web page (I use Google.com) rather than refreshing whatever was last viewed.

Sputnik. That’s a good name for this service. It’s 1950s technology.

I’m outta here in less than a week, so the frustration will end.

And the folks at the golf course have already told me that they’re thinking of switching to another service.

All I know is that I’m not giving another dime to these clowns again.

Update: 10 minutes after posting

It Never EndsYou want irony? Here’s the message I got in my Web browser only 10 minutes after posting this whine. These guys don’t even know how to configure the obsolete software they use.