Playing Like a Kid In the Snow

Makes you feel like a kid again.

Saturday, I went to a “winter fun” party at a friend’s house up in Peshastin. He lives up a canyon, on 15 acres of what used to be an orchard. In addition to his 1940s era home and open garage, he has a handful of apricot trees, a small pond for storing irrigation water from a creek that runs through his property, and a few hiking trails that wind up into the national forest that borders his land. It’s quite idyllic out there — very quiet with little road traffic and lots of trees.

And snow.

Even though Peshastin is only about 20 minutes by car from Wenatchee, they get more snow up there. It’s a higher elevation and it’s closer to the Cascades. Because of that, my friend Kirk planned a winter fun party at his home there. Activities would include sledding, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and skating. There would be a bonfire and a potluck dinner.

Since leaving Arizona, I’ve embraced the snowy winter days here in North Central Washington state. It started with my return to cross-country skiing and taking up snowshoeing last season and continued this year with a return to ice skating. While I still like to stay warm, I discovered — belatedly, apparently — that with the proper clothes you can keep quite warm in the typical 20-30°F winter weather we get. I got the clothes last year and have been giving them plenty of use.

And yes, I know 20-30°F isn’t that cold. In fact, I think it’s milder here than the winters we had back in the New York metro area. But after 15 years in Arizona, it’s a bit chillier than I’m used to.

Kirk wasted no time getting us organized for sledding and skating. He had some equipment; some of us brought our own. Although I would have liked to go skating, my knee was still sore from the nasty fall I’d had the last time I skated. I swore that I wouldn’t skate again without knee pads — and not until my knee was fully recovered. I just don’t heal as well as I used to when I was a kid. (Duh.)

Instead, I opted for sledding. Kirk and Pete had a few old runner sleds, including one that looked just like my old Flexible Flyer. I gave one of them a try on the relatively mellow hill that led from the road to the pond. I was disappointed. The sled was old, the runners were rough with rust, and the hill wasn’t slick enough. I was a long way from the quarter mile sled runs down the street from where I used to live in Cresskill, NJ, starting in the woods out behind the Merrifield’s house and ending on Brookside Avenue.

Kirk skates among the piles of snow on his pond. The wise-ass requesting the double axel is me.

Meanwhile, Kirk was skating and others were just walking around on the frozen pond surface. Kirk had shoveled the snow onto big piles and was gliding gracefully among them.

Pete, in the meantime, had a need for speed. He’d taken one of the metal saucer sleds he’d brought along and had climbed to the top of a much steeper hill that led down to the pond. As we watched, he launched himself down the hillside, crashing into the tall frozen reeds at the side of the pond. Not to be deterred, he did it again. And again. After a while, he wore out a good, fast track down to the ice.


My first run down the hill.


My second run down the hill was enough for me.

He kind of dared Megan to try it. She wasn’t interested, but I was. I climbed up the hill, sort of surprised by how steep it was — it didn’t look that steep from the pond. Then I grabbed one of the sleds and, after asking Pete for some advice, launched myself down the hill. It was wicked fast and wicked bumpy. No control at all. About halfway down, I closed my eyes. I finally skidded to a stop on the ice, laughing and groaning. Megan caught the whole thing on video.

And if that wasn’t enough, I did it again. The second time, I definitely got airborne at least twice. The banging sled beat the crap out of me. When I slid to a stop on the ice, I just lay there, laughing. That was enough for me.

Pete kept going, through. On one of his runs, both Megan and I had video cameras rolling. I was up top and actually gave him a push down, so my video is very bumpy. But it’s interesting to see the two camera angles side by side.

 
Two views of one of Pete’s better runs.

By that time, Kirk and Kathy had moved on to sledding on another hill. The rest of us joined them. It was getting dark and Kirk wanted to take us on a quick hike before it got too dark to see. So I loaded Penny up in my day pack — mostly because I didn’t want to worry about her running off after real or imagined wildlife — and we we all followed Kirk up one of the trails behind his house. I think we would have made an excellent commercial for Sorels boots, since I think we were all wearing them. The path was snowy but not slippery and the forest around us was quiet with snow on the evergreen branches. We stopped on the way back to admire Kirk’s tractor — that’s how things are around here — and swap stories about how useful they can be around the area. I might have convinced Kirk to use his tractor to dig some holes for trees for me this spring. Fingers crossed.

Megan and Pete
Megan and Pete stand beside the fire.

While we were gone, the fire Kirk had started earlier in the day and fed with scrap lumber I brought along had come to life. We sat around it in lawn chairs. A few other people showed up, including Kirk’s housemates. Kirk and Kathy poured out some warm Glühwein from Leavenworth. We chatted, told stories, took photos.

Afterwards, we went inside for dinner. Clam chowder, leek soup (my contribution), garlic bread, fresh fruit, pizza, lasagna, and more. We sat around the big table Kirk had set up in his living room. It was warm and toasty indoors — so warm that I stripped down to my bottom layer Under Armor.

Of course, there was more. After dinner, six of us drove about a half mile up the road to a National Forest trailhead. We strapped on our snowshoes and started a hike up an old, closed off forest road. It was full dark out by then and thin clouds filtered much of the light from the full moon. Most people had headlamps. We crunched up the trail with snow covered evergreens and hillsides or ravines on either side of us. It was magical out there, especially when, on the way back, it began snowing.

Back at the house, Kirk and Kathy went back out to the pond to skate in the moonlight. The rest of us enjoyed the warmth of the wood-burning stove, chatting about life, careers, and retirement. A while later, just as Kirk and Kathy were coming back we prepped to go home. It had been a great day out in the snow and, for me, a reminder of my younger days.

Although I’m sure I’ll have bruises on my back from the edges of that silly saucer sled, it was worth it to remember my young, fearless, and carefree days as a kid.

A Flight with Santa

Amazingly beautiful weather makes this flight extra memorable.

I flew Santa in to a private home in Leavenworth yesterday. The family has a huge Christmas party every year and Santa always arrives by some sort of “unusual” transportation.

I was contracted about a month ago to do the flight. I got the address and, just last week, drove up with a friend to check the landing zone. I found a beautiful log home on the Wenatchee River with a huge front lawn near some other homes and an orchard. A perfect LZ.

I watched the weather closely all this week. In Arizona, weather was seldom an issue, but here, in Central Washington State, things are different. Sure, the late spring, summer, and early fall are usually full of clear days, but the other half of the year — this half of the year — is a different story. We could have one day after another of sun and blue skies or one day after another of fog or low clouds or even rain or snow. This week was forecasted to be one of those second kind of winter days, with rain or freezing rain or snow in the forecast almost every day. I watched Saturday’s forecast change almost hourly, it seemed.

When the day finally dawned, I saw what I’d been dreading: low clouds over Wenatchee with still air and an 80% chance of rain. Temperature would not be an issue — 38°F was forecasted. But when I went out to check the condition of my driveway, I found a mix of slush and ice, about 1/2 inch thick.

Deck View
The view from my deck outside my bedroom door yesterday morning. At this point, it was flyable, but who knew what it would be like in 2 hours?

I texted my client and asked about conditions there. She reported back that it was overcast, but the clouds were at least 700 feet up. She said her son told her and he was a pilot. That was good news. I told her I’d keep watching and let her know if I had to cancel or postpone. I was supposed to pick up Santa at10:45 AM.

I went at my driveway with my snow shovel, scraping much of the slush to one side or the other. Then I grabbed the bag of ice-melt I’d bought some time ago, opened it, and spread about half of it on my driveway. Let science do the hard work. I watched the weather get better and then worse and then better over the next hour or so. I took a shower and dressed in black jeans with a red sweater — about as “holiday” as I get. Then I went into the garage and preflighted the helicopter.

Helicopter from Above
Here’s an unusual view of my helicopter in its parking space, shot from the roof of my RV when I happened to be up there the other day.

My garage temperature never drops below 30°F. It was about 40°F that morning — a lot warmer than my uninsulated hangar in Arizona would get on cold winter nights. Still, I’d put a battery charger on the helicopter that morning and disconnected it just before pulling it out. The battery is pretty new but I don’t fly very often in the winter and didn’t want to get stuck out on the platform with a helicopter that wouldn’t start while Santa was waiting. I disconnected all that, moved my space heater aside, and got the ATV’s engine going to warm it up. Then I opened the big garage door and pushed the helicopter out onto the driveway.

Helicopter on Driveway
I uploaded this shot to Twitter with the comment, “Where’s Rudolph when you need him?”

Although I might have had enough fuel to do the flight, “might” is not good enough when you have to fly in questionable weather. I wanted at least 2 hours of fuel on board. That meant stopping at the airport to top off the main tank before heading up to Cashmere. I could see the airport beyond the low clouds, so I knew I could make it there. I put away my flag, closed up the garage, locked the door, and climbed on board. The helicopter started on the first try. It was apparently more eager to fly than I was.

Pangborn Airport (EAT) is a 3-1/2 minute flight from my home. At an elevation of 1249 feet, it’s about 400 feet below my home’s elevation. I departed over the orchards to the north, ducked down under a broken cloud layer over the river, and climbed back up to the airport. I crossed the approach end of runway 30 and landed at the fuel island. As I fueled, I noticed how bright it was out to the west in the direction I was going. The sun was out there, not even 10 miles away. Things looked good for my flight.

Monitor from the Air
Orchard West of Cashmere
Cashmere
More Cashmere
Here are some of the photos I took along the way. Somehow, my phone’s camera got switched to square photos, so that’s all I have.

I finished fueling, started back up, and headed west. I flew over East Wenatchee and then downtown Wenatchee, past Pybus Market where I’d be bringing Santa the next day. Then I was flying over a ridge at Horselake Road and the Wenatchee River Valley was before me.

It was beautiful.

The sun was out but wispy low clouds floated here and there, sometimes tangled in the trees in the mountain foothills. There was fresh snow on the ground and in the pines. The sky was blue and the shadows of the clouds added a certain texture to the scenery that made it seem more alive than ever.

I turned on my phone and took some photos right through the plexiglas bubble. Taking photos while flying a helicopter isn’t easy, which is why I so seldom do it. I was kicking myself in the butt (figuratively, of course) for not setting up the GoPro nosecam, but with the weather so iffy back home, I never expected such beautiful scenery.

It was a 10-minute flight to Cashmere Airport. I set down alongside the taxiway in about an inch of slushy snow. I couldn’t believe how beautiful the mountains around me looked and couldn’t wait to get out and take a proper photo.

Santa
Santa poses outside my helicopter at Cashmere Airport.

I’d just shut down the engine when Santa showed up, driven by his cousin. We introduced ourselves and his cousin drove away. He had at least a 15-minute drive to get back to Leavenworth so he could watch us land. I took a photo of Santa outside the helicopter, gave him a preflight briefing, and helped him get in. (I don’t know why Santas need to be fat, but the pillows most use are a real pain in the butt when strapping into a helicopter.)

We were running early and I didn’t want to land before schedule. Santa suggested a little tour and since my client was paying for a full hour, I thought that was reasonable. I started up and took off along the runway, tracing a leisurely flight through Cashmere, past Dryden, and up near Peshastin. At exactly 11 AM, about 3 miles away from the landing zone, I headed inbound.

We flew right past the place, as we both knew we would. I circled back, found it, and then made a descending circle so Santa could wave at the crowd. And what a crowd there was! There had to be at least 100 people down there, all standing at the end of the landing zone waving up at us.

Santa Arrives
Santa’s arrival from my seat as I shut down the helicopter.

I made my approach between two pine trees and settled down into the snow-covered grass. Then I helped Santa release his seatbelt and open his door. He stepped out and headed toward the crowd while spectators waved and took photos. It was a really fun scene.

I shut down the helicopter and used the rotor brake to bring the rotor blades to a stop. Although my primary purpose for shutting down was to get paid, I didn’t see any reason not to let folks get a closer look at the helicopter. Although most parents and small kids headed inside with Santa, at least 50 people remained behind. As I climbed out, they came around the helicopter for photos. I let kids climb into my seat so their parents could take photos through the open door or plexiglas bubble. I handed out Flying M Air postcards (which feature an air-to-air photo of the helicopter over Lake Pleasant) and answered questions. Lots of people thanked me. My client gave me a check and a hug.

At Santa's Destination
It was a fun scene at Santa’s destination. By the time I took this photo, most of the spectators had gone inside.

I felt really good flying back to Wenatchee and home — despite the weather that awaited me there. It was just as overcast and gray as when I’d left. The fog, although thickening, was not too thick to find my home. I made a nice, slow approach to my landing pad, set down gently, and adjusted its position while I was still light on the skids. I shut down and locked the blades in the forward/aft position before getting out. A few minutes later, I was backing the ATV into the big garage. I got the helicopter lined up perfect on my first try and pulled the big door closed behind it.

An hour later, the fog was so thick I could see only whiteness through my windows. It would be a few hours before it cleared out again.

Got my fingers crossed for Sunday’s flight. So far, it’s looking pretty much the same.

A Snowy Weekend

First snow of the season is just right.

It started snowing Friday afternoon.

It had been forecasted, so I was expecting it and got all my errands done early in the day. There was a sleety mix coming down in town as I headed home. By the time I pulled into my driveway, the sleet was more snow-like. It could have been our elevation — my home’s elevation is about 800 feet higher than town at the river’s edge. I put my Jeep away in the garage, let Penny out, and settled down to an afternoon catching up on paperwork.

First Snow Reading
By mid-afternoon, there was just three quarters of an inch of accumulated snow.

By 2:47 PM, there was 3/4 inch on the ground. Not very impressive.

But it kept snowing. I chatted with a few different friends on the phone, watching the white stuff come down in big flakes outside. Inside was toasty warm and smelled of the ham and cheese quiche I had in the oven. I was sipping a hot coffee with eggnog and milk — a do-it-yourself eggnog latte.

Later, after dark, I let Penny out to do her business. She stood at the doorway just looking at the snow, completely uninterested in stepping out. Later, before bed, when the snow was deeper but still coming down, I had pretty much the same luck with her. I suspected I might have a problem.

Of course, a tiny dog can only hold it for so long. She woke me at 3 AM, needing to go out. I obliged, standing at the doorway while she managed to find a satisfactory spot under the front deck to take care of business. It had stopped snowing and the sky was full of stars with just a few low clouds floating around. The cliffs behind my home were illuminated by the starlight and reflected light from town miles away. It was a beautiful night — perfect for some photography.

Now wide wake, I went back inside and set up my camera and tripod. I experimented with some shots from the deck outside my bedroom door and then the front deck. Although I couldn’t get a satisfactory shot of the cliffs, I did get an acceptable one looking down toward town. (I need to get my camera checked; there’s something screwy going on with exposures.)

Wenatchee at Night
I made this photo of the lights of Wenatchee from the deck outside my bedroom door.

Total Snowfall
Total snowfall was about 4-1/2 inches at my place.

I went in to have coffee, write in my journal, and do some blogging. I had some quiche for breakfast. Somewhere along the way, it got light out. I went back out with my ruler and stuck it in the virgin snow on my driveway apron. Four and a half inches.

The stuff was not wet but not quite powdery. The temperature was right around 32°F and didn’t feel cold at all. There was no wind. And it was amazingly beautiful with all that untouched snow on the ground.

I put on my Sorrels and walked back out to check on the chickens. They were out and about in their yard and looked up at me, as they usually do, expecting food. Their water was free of ice — I’d bought them a heated waterer — and although there was snow in their food dispenser, it didn’t look wet. I threw them a scoop of scratch and checked for eggs. There were three of them, one of which was still warm. Apparently, my chickens hadn’t gotten the memo about cutting back on egg production when the days got short.

First light was just hitting downtown Wenatchee. I went back upstairs and took in the view from the deck outside my bedroom. The light was pink as it touched the mountains and valley to the northwest. I felt as if I could have watched the view change all day, but it was time to get some work done outside.

First Light on a Snowy Morning
First light hits the Wenatchee Valley on a snowy morning.

Although my driveway is quite long, I don’t plan on ever shoveling or plowing it. I have a Jeep and its tires are still good. The driveway doesn’t have much of a slope to it. I don’t expect getting in or out with the Jeep to ever be much of a problem, especially since snow doesn’t usually stick around long here. Even my truck has 4WD, so if I need to get out with that, I know I can. How do I know? I used it to pull my RV out last February after a heavy snowstorm for a two-month trip to California. The Honda? Well, the Honda is in for the winter at this point.

But I also have a concrete driveway apron, which I need clear if I want to get my helicopter out for a flight. I didn’t have any flights scheduled until after Thanksgiving, but who knows what might come up? I had already decided to keep it clear of snow and ice. I had a good shovel and a bag of ice melt. With temperatures expected to rise during the day, I wanted to shovel now, before the snow got soft and heavy.

It didn’t take long and I have to admit that it felt good. That might sound weird to the people who consider snow-shoveling a chore, but I do it so infrequently (so far) that it’s more of an excuse to move around outdoors than any kind of real work — especially when the snow is still light and there’s no ice to contend with. I felt the same way last year when I shoveled the walk at the home I was housesitting at after a snowfall. The whole job took about 20 minutes — the driveway apron is only 22 x 30 feet — and I barely broke a sweat in my fleece sweatshirt.

Shoveled Driveway
My shoveled driveway apron, just in case I need to pull the helicopter out for a flight.

I didn’t spread any ice melt on it. The way I see it, there’s no reason to spread that crap around unless there’s ice to melt. I figured I’d monitor the condition of the driveway apron and, if the little snow left did turn to ice, I’d spread some ice melt to get rid of it. But as the day wore on, the snow melted and the resulting water dried. No ice.

While I was out with the shovel and still energized, I shoveled a path from my front door to the chicken yard. This would give Penny a better place to run and do her business. But she had already figured out that she could stay under the front and side decks to get around the building without having to walk through much snow. In fact, while I was shoveling she disappeared around the back of the building, possibly tracking the scent of a rabbit that had left tracks in the snow back there.

Snowy Home
A look back at my home from Lookout Point on a snowy morning.

Before going back inside, I walked down to Lookout Point, my little bench overlooking the valley. I’d brought the bench cushions in when the weather began changing two weeks ago and the bench looked abandoned and kind of forlorn with its covering of snow. I looked back at my home and liked what I saw: the neat symmetry of the building, the smooth blanket of snow on its big roof, the pine trees on the cliffs behind my home, accented with white. The path back to my home from the bench looked inviting. I looked forward to mornings like this when I could stoke up a fire in the fireplace and sip hot cocoa while looking out over the valley.

And that’s when I realized that I liked winter.

It’s odd because I left New Jersey to escape the cold. That put me in Arizona, which I soon grew to dislike for many reasons, not the least of which was the brutally hot summers. But my home in Arizona also lacked seasons — the only thing that changed was the average daytime high and nighttime low. There were no fall colors, there was no snow, there was no springtime leafing out. The seasons were more subtle, marked by temperature changes, wildflower and cactus blooms, and thunderstorms.

We bought some vacation property in northern Arizona, mostly to escape the hot Phoenix area summers. We went up there pretty regularly in the summer early on, and I spent much of the summers of 2004 and 2005 in my old RV up there. But we also enjoyed going up there in the winter time. How many Thanksgivings and Christmases did we spend in the cabin we built together? I remember waking once to a hushed, snow-covered landscape, cosy and warm under a thick comforter up on the loft, going downstairs to make a hot breakfast of Pillsbury orange danish. We spent part of that day at the Grand Canyon, walking the shoveled rim trails, before dinner with friends at El Tovar. That property, bought for summer use, became my winter treat. The chain of Christmasy red and white stars I’d bought still hung from the loft the last time I was there.

Now I’m back in a four-season place. Indeed, the winter here is remarkably like the winters in northern New Jersey, where I spent more than half of my life. But there’s the added benefit of a wide variety of winter sports nearby: downhill skiing, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and skating. There’s life here — that’s another thing I’ve been missing for too long.

I didn’t spend much time outside that morning. I had things to do inside before heading out to visit a friend and then participating in a cider tasting outing with other friends. Dinner out came afterward. The temperature rose throughout the day but it got cloudy. The roads were icy on the way home, but I threw the Jeep into 4WD and had plenty of traction.

The next day, Sunday, was even warmer. My garage got up to 50°F before I realized I didn’t need the space heater on while I did my warm glass work. Snow was melting everywhere and my driveway apron was dry. The chicken yard was snow-free — they’d trampled it all down into wet dirt and they were still making plenty of eggs. It was 46°F outside when I left at 1 PM for a football party at a friend’s house. I took my truck because I needed to run my trash cans out to the main road. It had no trouble on the unplowed driveway.

Temperatures this week will continue to rise, with a daytime high on Wednesday expected to be 50°F. The National Weather Service is predicting a warmer than normal winter here and if the cold snap we had earlier this month is an anomaly — which I believe it is — we might not get much more snow at all. Although I hope to get some cross-country skiing in before I head south for a month or two, I don’t really care one way or another. This snowfall was a treat and I’m sure there will be many snowy weekends in my future.