Tag Archives: travel

Flying Southwest

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Pleasantly pleased by the quality of service on this original-thinking airline.

I’ve been traveling a lot lately. A lot. And most of that travel has been on four airlines: US Air (formerly America West, hub in Phoenix), Alaska Air (hub in Seattle), American Airlines, and Southwest Air. Since September 2012 — that’s less than six months — I’ve flown to Phoenix, Seattle, Wenatchee, Las Vegas, Sacramento, Dallas, and Jacksonville — in many cases, multiple times to each destination. (And I want to say here how great it is to finally be able to travel without guilt or the restrictions imposed on me by my soon-to-be ex-husband.)

I always favored US Air for my trips between Phoenix and some other city served by US Air. That changed when I began making more trips to Wenatchee, which requires a stop in Seattle along the way; on those flights I use Alaska Air/Horizon. And although I used to use Continental (now part of United) for my trips to Florida through their Houston hub, I switched to American through Charlottesville, NC in 2011.

SouthwestI’d flown Southwest Air back in its infancy, when people would queue up two hours before flight time to ensure a seat. I don’t like to wait in line for anything, so I always wound up with a crappy middle seat in the back of the plane. To me, it wasn’t worth saving a few bucks when I couldn’t get a seat assignment. So I avoided Southwest in favor of other alternatives.

Recently, though, I’ve rediscovered Southwest — and I like what I’m seeing. Here are some of my observations.

The End of the Line

Southwest has finally come up with a reasonable way to handle seating that doesn’t require seat assignments (saving them money and effort) and doesn’t require waiting on long lines (saving passengers frustration).

Now, when you check in — preferably online — you get a boarding pass with a letter/number combination that indicates your boarding number. So, for example, someone quick to check in might be assigned B3 (as I was the other day). That means you’ll be the third person to board in the B group. Each group can have up to 60 (I think) people in it. The A group is special: its for people who bought more expensive tickets or paid for earlier boarding. It’s seldom full, so the beginning of the B group isn’t a bad place to be at all. In fact, on my most recent Southwest flight, with a B3 boarding pass, I nabbed a window seat in Row 4. Not too shabby.

Best of all, I didn’t have to pay extra for that seat. Most other airlines, these days, consider front-of-wing seats “premium” seats and can charge $25 or more extra for assignments there.

Line Up HereMy friend Jim didn’t understand how this numbering system could possibly work. I explained how Southwest uses queue-up areas with numbered posts or signs. When the A group is called, people sort themselves in order along these signs, using their boarding passes for reference. It’s all very orderly and civilized — no jostling for position because it’s pretty clear where each person should be in line. Then, after the first half of the group goes through the gate, the first half of the next group lines up. It’s amazingly efficient and I truly believe the plane loads faster.

Two Bags Fly Free

Free baggage check is another way Southwest saves me money.

Unfortunately, because Penny the Tiny Dog usually accompanies me on my trips, her travel bag counts as one of my carry-on items. My large travel purse counts as another. That’s two and that’s the limit on any airline. That means that unless I don’t have any luggage — which is rare — I always have to check at least one bag.

Most airlines usually charge $20 or $25 for the first bag and often up that amount to $40 or $50 for the second bag. (I usually just have one to check.) But Southwest allows you to check two bags for free. As you might imagine, there are reasonable limitations on size and weight — just like there are on other airlines. And if you happen to have a third bag to check, you’ll pay a hefty $75 to check it. But the two bag allowance saves me money.

Baggage Claim No Longer a Big Deal

I used to hate checking luggage, mostly because of the baggage claim ordeal. Simply said, I — and the person I was often with — didn’t like waiting for luggage.

But now that I fly with Penny, things are different. My first priority, on leaving the plane, is finding a place for Penny to do her business. That means exiting the terminal as quickly as possible, usually in search of a patch of grass. (Phoenix is a really dog-friendly airport; it has a fenced-in dog walk area at each of its three terminals.)

Once Penny has relieved herself, I’m free to go back into the terminal and retrieve my luggage. By that time, my bag is usually already on the carousel and the crowd is gone.

So thanks to Penny, baggage claim is no longer an ordeal at all.

Baggage Claim with Penny

It also saves room in the airplane cabin and speeds boarding. Why? Well, when an airlines charges for checked baggage, people try to save money by carrying on all their luggage. In fact, a passenger is more likely to carry on luggage than check it, so almost everyone on board has the maximum amount of luggage they can slip past a gate agent at boarding time. Big wheelie bags and other large items can be squeezed into the overhead compartments — so they are. Tons of them. This fills the available space quickly and, because they have to be stowed before a passenger can sit down, it requires boarding passengers to wait until each piece is stowed and the passenger gets into his seat.

Last-Minute Flights? Itinerary Changes? No Problem!

I think one of the best things about flying with Southwest is the ability to make changes to your itinerary without paying a penalty. This is extremely important for me these days, as I often need to make changes to existing flights or book last-minute travel.

Here’s an example. I recently booked a flight to Las Vegas about three days before my travel date. I got the same low fare I would have gotten if I’d booked it weeks in advance. Then, while in Vegas, I decided to travel to Sacramento instead of Phoenix. I got online and, with a few clicks, I was able to replace the Vegas to Phoenix flight with a Vegas to Sacramento flight. I was charged for the difference in cost between those two flights: $52.

Like most other airlines these days, Southwest makes it easy to book one-way travel. And because I don’t pay a extra for last-minute bookings, I can leave my travel plans wide open and decide where I want to go when I want to go. This freedom has made a huge difference in the way I travel, giving me opportunities to make spontaneous trips to visit friends and relatives whenever I like.

Don’t get me wrong — the fare category I book is still considered “non-refundable.” That means I can’t get my money back. But it doesn’t mean I can’t use that money to book other travel — without a fee. And with the craziness of my life these days, that’s a huge plus.

There’s an App for That

Airline Apps Ranked

Here’s a list of the airline-specific apps I’ve tried so far, ranked from best to worst.

  1. American Airlines – You can book travel, check flight status, check in, display a digital boarding pass at security and the gate, and see maps of many airport terminals.
  2. Alaska Air – You can check flight status, check in, and display a digital boarding pass at security and the gate.
  3. Southwest Air – You can book travel, change flights, check in, and check flight status.
  4. US Air – I found this app nearly useless and actually removed it from my iPhone and iPad. I can’t remember what it did.

Again, this is just an overview based on my limited experience. I think I should do a more detailed review and update this, possibly for a blog post in my upcoming travel blog.

Southwest, like some other airlines, has an iOS app (and likely an Android app, although I really don’t know for sure) for managing travel. In my experience with other airline apps, it’s neither the best nor the worst of the bunch. But it does allow me to do three important things:

  • Check in timely. As mentioned earlier, your seat on a Southwest Air plane is determined, in part, by the group and number assigned when you check in. The quicker you check in the better the group and number. Check in opens exactly 24 hours before a flight. I can use a reminder on my Calendar app to warn me when check in time is approaching. I can then use the Southwest app to check in exactly at that time. Sweet.
  • Book Travel. I can check fares and book flights from anywhere, right from my phone. This is extremely useful with my travel schedule; a computer isn’t always handy.
  • Change Flights. I can look for new flights and swap them into my itinerary, right from my phone. Again, this is extremely useful, given that I often make travel plan changes.

What the app doesn’t do, however, is create a scannable boarding pass that I can use at security or the gate. It seems that Southwest prefers to collect paper boarding passes at the gate. This isn’t a huge deal for me, since I normally have to check a bag anyway and a visit to the check-in counter (or curbside check in) is still required. I usually wind up getting a printed boarding pass there anyway.

Limited Food/Beverage Service

Admittedly, the longest Southwest flight I’ve ever been on was under 2 hours. And during those flights I never once saw a rolling service cart in the aisle.

Why? Because Southwest doesn’t offer a wide variety of food on its short flights. In fact, other than peanuts or pretzels — which are free with beverage service — it doesn’t offer any food. (Again, this might not be true of longer flights, which I haven’t experienced yet.)

Instead, once we complete the climb out on departure, a flight attendant walks down the aisle and takes drink orders. If you’re buying alcohol, she takes payment. Then, a while later, she comes back down the aisle with a tray and distributes the beverages she has orders for, along with a bag of peanuts or pretzels. Simple.

Why do I like this? Well, mostly because it keeps things simple. I seldom get out of my seat during a flight, so the presence (or absence) of a rolling cart doesn’t really affect me. But I like the quick and efficient way the flight attendants can get the job done.

If I want to snack on a plane, I always buy something to eat in the terminal before boarding anyway.

I’m Sold!

All together, these benefits really make it worth flying Southwest as often as possible. It’s now my first choice for airline travel — I just hope it flies to many of the destinations I need to visit.

A[nother] Trip to Quartzsite

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A quick trip to Quartzsite — perhaps my last ever.

I flew to Quartzsite, AZ on Tuesday with Penny the Tiny Dog. I wanted to visit one of my favorite weird desert destinations one more time before I move north to my new home in Washington State.

Quartzsite, in case you don’t know, is a tiny community in the desert right on I-10 a bit east of the California border. During the summer months, it has a population of about 3,600 people. In the winter, especially during the big RV show week in January, the area population grows to at least 50,000. Most of the winter visitors are RVers who live in trailers and motorhomes out in the desert on BLM land. They come there for the warm climate, but also for the continuous string of shows and swap meets in the area.

I’ve been going to Quartzsite for years. I really like going for a few days and staying in an RV out in the desert, but it was often difficult to arrange, given my soon-to-be ex-husband’s schedule. I bought my fifth wheel RV (the “Mobile Mansion“) there back in 2010 and that was the last time we stayed there overnight. Almost every year I managed to get at least one visit in. Last year, I visited for the day; my friend Janet was living there, selling her artwork at one of the Tyson Wells shows.

This year, a Twitter friend was staying in the area and I used that as an excuse to go out there during the RV show week. (I don’t know why I need an excuse these days; my life is finally my own to do as I please. But old habits die hard.) I didn’t feel like driving — it’s about 100 miles each way. So I went out to the airport, dragged the helicopter out, preflighted, fired it up, and took off with Penny on board in the passenger seat beside me.

It was an uneventful flight. A typically perfect Arizona winter day with temperatures forecasted to get into the high 70s, no wind, and no clouds. I had a bit of a problem with my door on takeoff — I’d lifted off with the door unlatched — and had to land in the desert about 4 miles west of town to close it properly. But then we were on our way, zipping across the desert about 500 feet up at 120 knots ground speed. Foreflight on my iPad told me we’d get there at 9:23 AM.

My landing zone (LZ) was a crapshoot. I honestly didn’t know for sure where I’d land. Quartzsite is surrounded by BLM land and I am allowed to land there, provided I don’t have paying passengers on board. But I wanted to get as close to Tyson Wells and the RV show across the street as possible. I thought I might try an empty lot south of I-10, but when I got near there, I saw a few trailers parked nearby and a man walking across the lot. Too much going on. So instead, I found a nice LZ a bit south of there. It was probably about a half mile from the traffic light just east of Tyson Wells.

Quartzsite Helicopter Parking

I shut down, put Penny on her leash, and locked up the helicopter. We walked over to the RV show. It was still early — only about 9:30 AM — and things were just waking up. That’s one of the things I like about getting to Quartzsite early; you get a real feel for the “behind the scenes” life of the vendors. Along the way, I got a text from my friend Jim in Idaho and decided to give him a call. We chatted while I walked around outside the big RV show tent.

By the time we finished, I was in the vendor area nearby, just outside a pet supply booth. I made my first purchase of the day: a new harness/collar for Penny. Finally she can stop wearing that kitten collar!

Artisan Village
One of the weirder vendor RVs at Tyson Wells.

We walked Tyson Wells next. The show was not nearly as big as it had been in past years — hell, Quartzsite has come a long way down since its glory years. There was still plenty to see and buy, including the usual collection of junk of interest to RVers. There were also quite a few bible and prayer booths. As I walked past one of them, a guy outside asked me if I wanted to participate in a “bible survey.” I said, “You don’t want to hear what I have to say,” and laughed as I walked away.

I looked at jewelry. I’m still trying to replace a pair of earrings I aways wore that my husband gave me. I simply can’t bear to look at them anymore. But I didn’t see anything better than the pair I’d already bought that were slightly too big for everyday use.

Forkman
Wouldn’t this be a great way for a caterer to display his business cards at events?

I bought a business card stand made out of flatware for a friend of mine who owns a catering company. I figured it would be a neat thing to put out at events to display his business cards.

I also bought an excellent, right-out-of-the-oven cinnamon roll without all that icky icing Cinnabon uses. Delicious!

In the meantime, Penny was trying to say hello to all the other dogs she saw — and there were a lot of them. Sadly, a lot of the smaller dogs were confined in dog strollers — if you can believe that — or being carried. Why won’t people let their dogs be dogs?

Finished with Tyson Wells, we walked back to the RV show. I wanted to buy a sign.

Last year, when I’d gone to the show, I’d bought five wooden signs designed to hang one under the other. The top one said “Mobile Mansion” and the bottom ones each had names: “Maria,” “Mike,” “Charlie,” and “Alex.” You see, my husband was supposed to join me on the road in the RV and I thought it would be fun to have these signs hanging outside to show who was in residence. It’s an RVer thing. I had them with me in Washington last summer and was having a sign stand made so I could hang them outside the RV. Of course, when my husband told me he wanted a divorce, I sent the “Mike” and “Charlie” signs back to him. Although I aways hoped I could get Charlie back, it doesn’t seem as if my husband will give him up. But I do have Penny so I wanted to have a sign made for her. I’ll hang the remaining signs when I go back to Washington and set up the RV again.

I found the wooden sign guy and placed my order. I paid him $15 and he told me to be back in an hour.

I put Penny in my tote bag with her head popping out. I didn’t want to carry her, but I knew that walking her though the big tent on a leash was not a wise idea. With her safely tucked away under my arm, we went inside.

Teeth Whitening at Quartzsite
For some reason, I found the teeth whitening booth disturbing.

Plug and Play Solar
Someone’s version of my husband’s idea: plug and play solar.

Inside the tent was a zoo: crazy crowded. Vendors were selling RV timeshares and providing travel information about various destinations. They were selling cooking appliances and utensils. They were offering massages and pain relief and teeth whitening. They were selling solar panels — including the “Plug and Play” systems my soon-to-be ex-husband had wanted to design but never moved forward on. They were selling clothes and cell phone cases and solutions to clean RVs. The whole place reeked of RV septic system fluid — like someone had dumped a case of the stuff on the floor. It was crowded with retirees shuffling from one booth to the next, making unexpected stops. I was very glad Penny was safely tucked away — she would have either been trampled or her leash would have tripped an old guy.

I looked at a cell phone case, but left without one when I realized they wanted $19.95 for the same thing I could buy at Tyson Wells for $6.

Turkey Leg
Smoked turkey legs, anyone?

Loaded Baked Potato
I call this lunch.

We exited back into the fresh air on the west side of the tent, right outside the smoked turkey leg booth. I took Penny out of the bag, set her on the ground, and got on line. My husband never left Quartzsite without a smoked turkey leg — he loved them. In fact, last year when I went without him, I brought a few back for him. I liked them, too, of course, although it was too much food for lunch. So I ordered one wrapped to go (which I’d eat for dinner over the next two days — they really are huge) and got a fully loaded smoked baked potato for lunch. Penny and I retreated back toward the outside of the tent, where we sat on a flattened cardboard box to eat in the sun. By this time, I’d stripped off most of my layers of clothing and was very comfortable in a tank top and jeans. (Yes, in January.)

Penny's Sign
The style and color of the sign is different, but last year’s sign man wasn’t around. The “Maria” and “Alex” signs are in my RV.

With lunch finished, we walked around the outside of the RV show tent again, eventually winding up at the sign guy. The sign was ready, although he had run out of the spray stuff he uses to protect it. I told him I didn’t want to wait for his companion to arrive with some, confirmed that the paint was dry, and stuffed it in my bag of goodies.

We were done and it was time to go home.

Dog Ice Cream Cone
How cool is this? An ice cream cone for dogs! It was about 3-4 inches total, including the ice cream on top.

I did want ice cream, but I didn’t want to wait on the very long line for the ice cream vendor outside the big tent. And I certainly wasn’t going to pay the other guy on the way out of the area $7 for an ice cream cone. But we did find an ice cream place not far from the corner with the traffic light. I got a huge 2-1/2 scoop serving on a waffle cone. And when they saw that I was with a dog, they gave me a tiny vanilla cone just for her.

We walked back to the helicopter. I did a quick preflight, added a half quart of oil — which I managed to spill quite a bit of — and climbed on board. A while later, we were airborne over the town. I managed to take one photo of the RV show and Tyson Wells area before turning east toward Wickenburg.

Aerial Quartzsite

We were back on the ground at Wickenburg Airport 40 minutes later.

It had been a nice day out — and possibly the last time I’d ever go to Quartzsite. I’d miss it.

I Love My Life

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Why I love my life — and how you can love your life, too.

I love my life.

That’s the thought that struck me last Saturday afternoon, as I walked across the transient parking area at Lake Havasu Municipal Airport, from the FBO office to my helicopter, swinging a plastic bag full of BBQ takeout.

I love my life.

The sudden thought amazed and exhilarated me. It put a skip to my step and made me smile.

I love my life.

This was near the end of a busy day when I’d spent 2-1/2 hours flying an aerial photographer and videographer over six different target vehicles in the 2013 Parker 250 off-road race. It had been hard, challenging flying, sometimes dangerously close to the ground, performing maneuvers that pushed the helicopter’s capabilities as much as — if not more than — I’d ever pushed them before.

This was the same day I’d been up at 5 AM and had gone out with just a half a cup of coffee and some oatmeal in my belly on a 31°F morning. The same day I’d preflighted my helicopter and pulled off its doors in the predawn gloom with just a Mini Maglite to light the way.

This was the day after I’d spent the night in a houseful of strangers — all men — sleeping in a bed on sheets that someone else had slept in the night before.

And it was only 24 hours — almost to the minute — after being offered the aerial photo gig 80 miles across the desert from my home.

It had been a most unusual and challenging 24 hours.

And I had enjoyed every minute of it.

I love my life.

I realized, as I walked across the airport ramp, smelling the aroma of my BBQ dinner and looking forward to the fried okra I’d nibble in flight on the way home, that I needed to blog about this sudden realization, I needed to document how and why I felt the way I did. I needed to capture the moment in my blog to remember it forever, just in case the feeling should fade due to events in the days or weeks or months to come. I needed to share it with others who may also love their lives but not really know it. And to share it with the folks who are missing the point of life — the meaning of life, if you will — in an effort to help them understand and set a course that would enable them to love their lives, too.

What I Love about My Life

In thinking hard about this, I think what I love most about my life can be broken down into several things: freedom, time, variety, travel, challenge, and friends. Bear with me while I address how each of these affect my life and personal philosophy.

Freedom.
Because I don’t have a “regular job” and I don’t have kids or a husband to answer to, I have the freedom to do pretty much whatever I want. If I feel like getting up at dawn to photograph first light over the desert, fine. If I feel like eating leftover Chinese food for breakfast, great! If I feel like hopping in the car with my dog and spending the night in Prescott after a pot-luck dinner with friends there, wonderful! Anything goes. My only limits are time (see below) and money.

Time.
Not having a “regular job,” kids, or a husband also means I can make my own hours and do things when I want to do them. Obviously I’m not completely free — I still have work to do and appointments to keep — but my time is extraordinarily flexible. For the most part, I make up my day and week and month as I go along. If something I’m doing needs more time, I take it. The only time of year when my time (and freedom) are restricted is when I’m on contract for agricultural work — but that’s only 11 weeks out of the year. (I don’t know too many people who would find that a hardship.)

Variety.
Back in 1987 (or thereabouts), I took a job as an auditor with a large residential developer. I did construction project audits. Every single audit took about two weeks to complete and was exactly the same. After two months, I started looking for another job. The lack of variety in my work was driving me insane.

I feel the same today — I thrive on variety. I like the fact that every day of my life is different. I wake up at different times, I do different things, I see different people, I eat different things, I go to different places, I go to bed at different times. Unless I’m elbow-deep in a book project that consumes 10 hours a day, no two days are the same. And that’s very nice.

Travel.
One of the benefits of time and freedom is the ability to travel. I love to travel, to get out and see different places. When things get dull — when I feel as if I’m slipping into a rut at home — I shake things up with a trip. I’ve been home in Arizona since September and have managed to take at least one trip every single month since I’ve been back: Washington (twice), Las Vegas, California, Florida, and Lake Powell (by helicopter). That doesn’t count the day trips and overnight trips I’ve squeezed in on a whim: Prescott, Phoenix, Winslow, Parker, and Tucson. And I already have my next three trips planned out.

I don’t travel as a tourist, ticking off items on a list of things to see. I travel to experience the places like someone who lives there. It’s a much better (and usually cheaper) way to experience the world.

Challenge.
What can I say about challenge? Simply put, a life without challenges is simply not a life worth living. I need goals — realistic and achievable goals — and I need to be able to work toward them.

My entire life has been a series of challenges and achievements, some minor, like learning to ride a motorcycle or horse, and some major, like building a successful career as a freelance writer or building a profitable helicopter charter business from the ground up. I’ve always got a handful of goals in my back pocket and am always working toward achieving the ones that mean most to me at the moment.

I’m fortunate to have a good brain and good work ethic — two prerequisites for success. I’m also fortunate to have good health, which makes everything else a lot easier. But I know plenty of people who have all these things and still don’t challenge themselves. They skate through life, doing the least they can do to get by comfortably, never challenging themselves to go the next step. I simply couldn’t live like that.

The best part of always having challenges and goals to work toward? I never get bored.

Friends.
It wasn’t until this year, when my marriage fell apart, that I realized how much my friends mean to me.

When I was married, living with my husband in Wickenburg or Phoenix, I didn’t have many good friends. I couldn’t. There was no room in my life to build and maintain friendships.

But when I went away to Washington for my summer work, my husband stayed behind. I began building strong friendships with some of the people I met. I also kept in touch with other friends from all over the world by phone, email, Twitter, and Facebook. This network of friends was amazingly helpful and supportive when my husband called me on my birthday in June and asked for a divorce. And they were even more supportive when I discovered, in August, the lies and the woman he’d been sleeping with. The pain of his betrayal is sharp, but my friends help ease that pain.

Even now that I’m home, dealing with harassment from my husband or his lawyer on an almost weekly basis, my friends have been extremely helpful, showering me with invitations to get out and do things together, offering me their homes as destinations for trips, or simply sharing words of encouragement and support. They not only take the edge off my divorce ordeal, but give me a great outlook on life.

Without good friends, no one can truly love their life.

How I Got Here

I got where I am the way most people get where they are in life — but with an abrupt turn and an important realization along the way.

The abrupt turn: career change
Raised in a lower middle class family, divorced parents, stepdad that brought us all up a notch and offered my family the financial security we never really had. High school, college. 9 to 5 job with a good employer and good benefits. A new job that wasn’t a good match (see above) followed by a better job with a Fortune 100 corporation. Things seemed pretty sunny for me.

But they weren’t. I wasn’t happy. I didn’t like the work I was doing. I didn’t like the way the hour-long commute — each way — was eating away at my life. I didn’t like corporate politics and game-playing. I was good at my job, I made good money, I kept getting raises and promotions, but I dreaded getting up in the morning.

Been there? I bet you have. Many people have.

Trouble was, I made a bad decision back in my college days. I always wanted to be a writer, but I was convinced by my family that I needed a better career path. I was the first in the history of my family to go to college, so it was a big deal. I was good with numbers and math so we figured accounting was a good course of study. I ended up with two scholarships in a great business school, Hofstra University on Long Island. But in my junior year, at the age of 19 — did I mention I started college at 17? –I began realizing that I really didn’t want to be an accountant. I wanted to be a writer. I called home and told my mother I wanted to change my major to journalism. She had a fit and told me I was crazy. That I’d never get a job. That I’d be giving up a great future. I listened to her. I was 20 when I got my BBA degree with “highest honors” in accounting.

I’ve always regretted listening to my mother that day. Indeed, that was the last time I took her advice on any important life decision.

I always wrote — I kept journals and wrote novels and short stories that were never published or seen by others. And I always remembered my dream of becoming a writer. So in 1990, when the Institute of Internal Auditors was looking for someone to author a 4-1/2 day course about using “microcomputers” (primarily 20-pound “laptops”) for auditing and there was a $10,500 price tag attached to it, I sent them a proposal and got the project. I asked my boss for a leave of absence to do the work but was turned down. So I quit.

And that’s when I began my freelance career.

Believe me, leaving a job that paid me $45K/year plus benefits (in 1990) at the age of 28 was not an easy decision. As you might imagine, my mother absolutely freaked out.

Looking back at it now, this abrupt turn in my career path marks the day I stopped skating through life and started challenging myself to do better.

And I did. I had some rough patches along the way — the first full year freelancing was pretty tough — but I worked hard and smart and picked up momentum, mostly by working multiple jobs as a per diem contractor while writing articles and books. By 1998 I had my first best-selling computer book; the second came the following year. By then, money was not a problem — I finally made more money than I needed to live comfortably. I saved, I invested, I put money away for retirement.

And I used my excess time and money to challenge myself again: to learn how to fly helicopters.

By 2001, I’d bought my first helicopter and was trying to start a business with it. In 2005, I took that to the next level with a new, larger helicopter and FAA Part 135 certificate. In 2008, I found the niche market — agricultural work in Washington State — that finally enabled me to turn a profit. As publishing began its death spiral, I was already prepared with a third career that could support me.

People say I’m lucky. I disagree. The only thing I’m lucky about is having a good brain and good health — and even that’s something that I work at. It’s my work ethic — my deep-rooted philosophy that the only way to get ahead is to work hard and smart — that made everything possible. I truly believe that if you have a reasonable goal and you work hard and smart, you can achieve it.

Being able to make a living doing what I really love to do — writing and flying helicopters — makes it possible for me to love my life.

The important realization: the meaning of life
On my journey through life, I also made an important realization that changed everything: I discovered the meaning of life.

No, it isn’t 42.

As far as I’m concerned, there is no meaning to life. Life just is. But there are some undeniable facts about life and careful consideration of those facts should guide you to get the most of your life.

I guess I can sum it up my realizations about this in a few bullet points:

  • Life is short — and your life might be even shorter than you expect.
  • You only have one life. (I don’t believe in an “afterlife” or something like reincarnation.)
  • You should live your life as if you’re going to die tomorrow. That means not putting off until tomorrow what you can do today. It also means skipping the “bucket list” and doing what you want as soon as you can. And, by simple logic, it also means not waiting until you reach retirement age to start doing all the things you’ve wanted to do. You might never reach that age.

I think the light bulb came on back in 2008. When my friend Erik got sick and died unexpectedly at age 56, I realized that life can be taken from you at any time. I decided that I wanted to live life now — not when I turned the standard retirement age of 65. I realized that I never wanted to retire — that I wanted to do some kind of income producing work for the rest of my life. But I also knew that I didn’t want to be a slave to my work, now or ever.

I realized that in order to really enjoy life, I had to ensure my current and future financial security. That meant shedding assets I didn’t need and the debt that went with them. That meant paying off debt on important assets I’d always need, like a roof over my head. That meant building my business while paying off debt on its assets so that the business could support me without taking over my life.

And I’ve done all that. My house was paid off last February; I made the last payment on my helicopter earlier this month. I haven’t bought a new car since 2003 so I have no car loans or personal loans. Everything I buy now is by cash or credit card and, if by credit card, it’s paid off in full at the end of the billing cycle. I live within my means. I have no debt.

Do you know how cheaply you can live when you’ve got a paid-for roof over your head and no debt?

Go back to my discussions above about freedom and time. I mentioned that I don’t have a “regular job.” I’m proud of that fact. I worked hard to become debt free so I’d never have to get a regular job. Being debt-free gives me time and freedom.

Being debt-free makes it possible for me to love my life.

Don’t Get Me Wrong — My Life is Not Perfect

I don’t want you to come away from this blog post thinking that my life is perfect and that nothing ever goes wrong. That’s simply not true. My life might be good and I might love it, but it’s far from perfect. It’s worth taking a look at what’s not quite right.

Personal failures
I mentioned above that I need challenge to enjoy life. You might think that I always succeed at what I try. The truth is, although I have a pretty good track record, I don’t always succeed in what I set out to do. Sometimes it’s my fault, sometimes it’s the fault of others I trusted or relied on — which is ultimately my fault for trusting or relying on them. Sometimes it’s just the fact that what I was trying to achieve wasn’t really possible for me to achieve.

One example is my stint as a landlord. Back when I starting making good money, I started investing in rental properties. At one point, I owned a condo, a house, and a 4-unit apartment building. The idea was to run these as a business that generated enough revenue to pay the mortgages and possibly a little extra. But try as I might, I simply could not succeed in keeping the units full with tenants who paid the rent on time and respected my property or their neighbors. There was never enough revenue to cover all the expenses. There were headaches with complaints and repairs and cleanup. It was a miserable ordeal that I hated. I wound up selling my properties before the housing market tanked. One of them resulted in enough of a profit to put a healthy down payment on my second helicopter, so I guess I can’t complain. But as a landlord, I was a complete and utter failure.

Then there were the aerial video projects I attempted back in 2008. I hooked up with a video production company based in the San Diego area. I’d worked with the owner and liked his work. He came up with a proposal and I signed up, giving him a chunk of money. I then spent at least another $10K on flying and related expenses to gather footage. And paid another chunk of money for him to start turning it into something. Then I saw the footage and what he was trying to pass off as a “trailer.” I realized that he was simply not capable of creating the products he had contracted with me to produce. I threw another $2500 at a lawyer, trying to get some of my money back, but the video guy was unreachable and I soon got tired of throwing good money after bad. Finally tally of money lost: about $40K. Ouch. That was an expensive lesson.

I’ve also had failures getting contracts for book ideas and books that simply didn’t sell very well. I’ve failed to get certain writing or flying or web creation jobs I wanted. I’ve made bad (or at least regrettable) decisions on purchases of RVs, vehicles, and property. I’ve trusted people I shouldn’t have trusted and said things I shouldn’t have said. I’ve dropped the ball when it was my turn to play it, thus making a successful outcome impossible. And I’ve even let other people down when they expected or needed my help. I’m not proud of any of these things, but I can’t pretend they didn’t happen.

There are two things I need to say about personal failures and bad decisions:

  • There’s no reward without risk. If you don’t take chances, you will never achieve anything. This all goes back to the idea of skating through life. People who skate do so on a flat surface, never moving up or down. Nothing ventured, nothing gained (or lost). People who take risks can either climb or fall — by taking measured risks and putting the right effort into achieving goals, they’re more likely to climb.
  • We must all take personal responsibility for our own decisions and their outcomes. While others might advise you based on their own experiences or agendas, it’s up to you to make the final decision. Once made, you must take and keep ownership of the decision. Yes, I’ve made some bad decisions in my life that have led to disappointment or failure, but I alone am responsible for them. And I can live with that.

Life partner
And that brings up the second big thing that’s not perfect in my life: I don’t have a life partner.

I did — or I thought I did — for 29 years. We met in 1983 and hit it off almost immediately. We began living together only six months after we met. He liked to use the word “partner” to describe our relationship, but the partnership began to get tenuous not long after we got married 6 years ago.

It took me a long time to realize this. For years I think we were life partners, a real team that shared the same interests, dreams, and goals. But as time went on, that changed. The man who had been my leader became my follower and then my ball and chain. It happened slowly over time — so slowly that I didn’t even realize it was happening. And even when I began to realize it, I couldn’t believe it and remained in denial. I loved him too much. I didn’t want to believe it. Even today I’m having trouble believing that the man I’m in the process of divorcing is the same man I fell in love with and began sharing my life with 29 years ago.

I think part of the change had to do with our outlook on the future. Where I wanted to shed unneeded financial burdens to gain freedom and live my life now, my husband didn’t share either goal or philosophy. His purchase of a second home in Phoenix put a huge financial burden on him, but he refused to sell it. (And I won’t even go into how his living there with a roommate four days every week drove a wedge between us.) His worries about saving up for retirement and paying his bills put him in a string of dead-end jobs with employers who didn’t appreciate his skill set or compensate him properly. He’d become a slave, working primarily to satisfy his huge financial responsibilities and refusing to take steps to improve his situation. He was frustrated and miserable — and, in hindsight, probably jealous of my freedom. He took it out on me, with a never-ending string of put-downs and arguments and “the silent treatment” that wore away at my self-esteem and made me bitter and angry.

Even after visiting a marriage counselor (at his request), when I went back to Washington for my summer work last May, he immediately began to look for my replacement. He found one on a dating website: a typical desperate, middle-aged woman who would do or say (or share photos of) almost anything to snare a man who could ensure her financial future in exchange for sex and ego-stroking. His birthday call to me included the announcement that he wanted a divorce and a series of lies I honestly didn’t think he was capable of.

The transformation of life partner to vindictive and hateful enemy was complete.

And while the pain of his betrayal is probably — hopefully — the worst pain I’ll experience in my life, it does free me from the only thing still preventing me from loving my life: him.

But it also leaves a void in my life, an empty space I thought I had filled. While I enjoy my life, I think I would enjoy it even more if I could share it with someone. Still, I know I’ll be very careful about who I invite to share it with me; I’d rather go through the rest of my life alone than to trust and rely on the wrong man.

Been there, done that. Ouch.

I Love My Life

But as I walked across the tarmac at Lake Havasu Airport last week, swinging my bag of BBQ takeout, I wasn’t thinking about the things that kept my life from being perfect. Indeed, thoughts of such things never entered my mind. Instead, I felt a surge of happiness — exhilarating and exciting — that overwhelmed me when I suddenly realized that I love my life for what it is.

Sure, I have some rough patches ahead of me. My financial situation will take a bit of a hit when I lose half the house and have no place else to live. But I still have my brains and my good work ethic and my health. And I have the business I worked so hard to build over the past ten years. And I have my imagination to think up new ideas and new challenges. And my willingness to take risks to move forward and up — and accept the consequences of my decisions and actions. And I have all those other things: freedom, time, variety, travel, challenge, and friends.

My life is ahead of me — not behind me. And I embrace it because I love it.

THIS is What Life is All About

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Experiencing the wonder of the world with someone you love.

Last night, I went to see The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. While I’ll likely use another blog post to debate the wisdom of stretching Tolkien’s classic into a three-part movie, I cannot criticize the movie makers for the breathtaking scenery throughout the movie. Filmed in New Zealand, this — and the epic Lord of the Rings trilogy — showcases some of the most stunning backcountry locations in the world.

There’s a scene in the movie when Thorin’s Company (13 dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard) are traveling along a ridge in the mountains, high above the clouds. The scene, obviously shot from a helicopter, reminded me of two other scenes, one from a movie and the other from real life:

  • One of the closing scenes in the 1965 classic, The Sound of Music, when the Von Trapp Family is escaping the Nazis by hiking through the alps.
  • A particular moment on my July 2012 helicopter flight over the Cascade Mountains, when I crossed a specific rocky ridge surrounded by low clouds within sight of Mt. St. Helens.

That entire July flight was amazing, but it was this rocky ridge that popped into my mind while watching The Hobbit in a crowded Florida movie theater:

Cascades Ridge

And it brought me to tears. Even as I write this, perched on a stool at the breakfast bar in my mother’s kitchen on a Thursday morning before dawn, I’m all teary-eyed thinking about the amazing things I see and experience almost every day of my life — usually alone.

As I blogged after that flight:

I also felt more than a bit of sadness. There’s no way I can describe the amazing beauty of the remote wilderness that was around me for more than half of that flight. And yet there I was, enjoying it alone, unable to share it with anyone. Although I think my soon-to-be ex-husband would have enjoyed the flight, he was not with me and never would be again. I felt a surge of loneliness that I’ve never felt before. It ached to experience such an incredible flight alone, unable to share it firsthand with someone else who might appreciate it as much as I did.

Over time, I’ve come to learn that it’s more important to experience life than to be a slave to the material things we think we need to survive. I’m not independently wealthy — I do have to work for a living. But I’ve learned to work hard and smart and to live somewhat frugally so my money goes farther. By staying out of debt — and I’ll be completely debt-free (at least for a while) when my helicopter’s final loan payment is made next week — I’m not stressed about having to generate enough income to make credit card and loan payments. I can take time off to enjoy the experiences that make life worth living. In a way, I’m in a sort of semi-retirement where I mix work with play and really enjoy life.

Unfortunately, I’m one of the few people I know who are able to do this.

Reflection Canyon
Another example of the great places I fly for work; this shot was captured by my helicopter’s “nose cam” during a photo flight at Lake Powell.

My choice of career has also enabled me to enjoy amazing life experiences while working. I can’t begin to list the incredible places my work has taken me — or the incredible things I’ve seen from the air and on the ground while simply doing my job. That dawn flight across the Cascades is just an example — I did it for work, to reposition the helicopter for a required maintenance. In other words, it was part of my job. Not only did it entail a pair of amazing flights on consecutive days, but it also included a day spent wandering around Portland, a drive along the coast, a great dinner of oyster stew and fried oysters in an oceanside restaurant, a walk along the beach with my dog, a night in a beachfront motel, a beautiful foggy dawn, breakfast in a historic hotel, and a scenic drive back to the Portland area. What some people might do on a pair of days off, I was able to do as part of my work. How great is that?

What’s not so great is doing it alone.

Although my soon-to-be ex-husband promised me he’d join me on the road during my annual migration to points north — and I worked hard for years to build a business capable of supporting both of us — he backed out with excuses about needing to save more for retirement. I always hoped he’d see the light — and I was somewhat patiently waiting for him to do so right up to the end. The end came, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere in this blog, when he replaced me with another woman — someone who apparently doesn’t mind watching him be a slave to his material possessions and debt, enjoying life on weekends and during two weeks of paid vacation time each year.

It’s a shame, really. While I feel that life is all about experiences, those experiences are somehow better when they’re shared with someone else. For nearly 29 years, some (but not all) of my best life experiences were spent with the same man who I really thought appreciated them as much as I did: A road trip down the Pacific Coast from Seattle to San Francisco. A motorcycle camping trip down Skyline Drive and the Shenandoah Parkway and back up the Atlantic Coast’s barrier islands. A dash across a mosquito-infested field in the Everglades to a rental car, followed by an intense swatting session. A sunset soak in abandoned hot springs along the Rio Grande, watching wild horses graze in Mexico. A jet ski journey up the Colorado River from Lake Havasu to Laughlin. A river rafting trip down the Colorado through the Grand Canyon. A horseback ride on the beach in Costa Rica. A hike up a slot canyon with friends on the shore of Lake Powell. Time trials at a Bridgehampton race track in my Toyota MR-2. A day spent exploring the ruins of Chichen Itza. A sunrise at Montauk Point, followed by a nap in each others arms on a flat rock overlooking the Sound. An afternoon spent snorkeling in Cozumel. A view of the broken clouds of a marine layer moving in beneath us during a helicopter flight down the coast of Oregon. Long walks on beaches in too many places to count.

These are all memories I cherished, experiences somehow made better at the time because I shared them with someone I loved. Someone I could talk to about them long afterward. Someone who could browse photo albums with me and reminisce about the scenes they captured. Someone who could say, “Remember when we…” and I could remember with him.

That’s all gone now. Yes, I still have those memories, but they’re no longer shared, no longer cherished. Instead, they’re a reminder of how things change, how people grow apart without even knowing it, how love dies, and how easy it is for some people to replace a “life partner.”

I’ll have new experiences and build new memories of the amazing places I go and things I see and do in the years to come. Maybe I’ll have someone to share them with. Maybe we’ll stay together for a long time — long enough for the word “forever” to have meaning to me again.

But I’m certainly not going to wait for that someone to continue enjoying what’s important to me in life: experiencing the wonder of the world. The world is out there now and it’s not waiting either.

A Weekend in Las Vegas

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Business and pleasure.

I spent last weekend in Las Vegas. It was nice to get away.

I went for business. (Really!) The FAA was sponsoring an annual helicopter safety seminar at the Rivera hotel conference center. I signed up a few weeks ago. I figured that while I was up there I’d look into the employment situation. A friend of mine who works for the FAA had recommended that I apply for a tour pilot job with two Boulder City-based operators; I figured I’d stop in and drop off resumés.

Although I was hoping to fly up with some paying passengers, no one stepped forward to take advantage of the smoking deal I offered. That didn’t surprise me. And it turned out to be for the best — by driving up, I had my little Honda S2000 up there. It was sweet to cruise The Strip with the top down.

Here’s a quick rundown of my weekend, for those who wonder how someone who doesn’t gamble can stay busy in the casino capital of the world.

Friday: A Long Drive, Casual Job Hunt, and Visit with Friends

After dropping Penny off at boarding for the weekend, I made the drive up in late morning. I made excellent time, arriving in Boulder City in only 3-1/2 hours.

I stopped by each of the two operators wanted to visit. At the first, the person I needed to speak to was out to lunch. I left a resumé. At the second, I met up with the General Manager. We sat down and he interviewed me. We had a nice chat. I interview well; I have nothing to hide, am proud of my achievements, and have a lot of self-confidence. I also don’t need a job. The GM seemed to like me. At the end, however, he admitted that they weren’t hiring because they only had one helicopter in their fleet. He invited me to contact him in March when he planned to expand the business. Then he encouraged me to visit all of the area tour operators to get my name and resumé out.

I drove the rest of the way into Vegas. Along the way, I called my friend Jim. I had tentative plans to stay over at his new house on the west side of Las Vegas. It was early — only around 1 PM — and I needed to hook up with him. He was busy running errands. I told him I’d keep busy and call later.

I hit the McCarren-based tour operators and dropped off resumés. I got the same story from several of them: they weren’t hiring now; the busy season started in March or April. Since I already have a good gig for the summer, I probably won’t be flying in Las Vegas anytime soon. But that’s okay.

I hit the Fashion Show Mall next. I needed a new pair of flat black shoes — I’m not wearing Keds anymore — and figured I’d track them down in Dillards. It only took about 20 minutes to find and buy a pair. Then I wandered upstairs. I needed a suit jacket to wear with my skirt for my upcoming court date. A really helpful saleswoman worked with me to find the perfect jacket. A double success!

I also hit the Apple Store where I got a look at the iPad Mini and bought a new power adapter for my 13-inch MacBook Pro. Penny the Tiny Dog had chewed through the connector on my old one.

I called Jim again and got directions to his house. By 4 PM, I was ringing the doorbell on a huge one-story house in a gated community. Jim opened the door and invited me in. We went out to the backyard, where he showed off the bridge he’d just finished building over his Koi pond. His wife, Judith, joined us. We chatted for a while and then I got the tour of the house.

Jim and Judith lived in Wickenburg for quite some time. Like so many of my friends there, they got fed up with the town and decided to move. Although they stopped in a few places along the way, they wound up in Vegas, where they set up their business. With property values in Vegas so low, they were able to buy a great home and a 30,000 square foot industrial space for manufacturing Start Pacs.

Their new Las Vegas home is very nice. They did some work to close up extra doors, tear out walls to enlarge rooms, and finish everything with a fresh coat of paint. Then they hung their huge collection of Navajo rugs, arrowheads, and other items. The place is like a comfy museum, with plenty of art to admire.

They had a guest room for me, but when I realized that Judith was feeling under the weather, I decided that it might be best to stay in a hotel instead of imposing on her. So I booked a room at the Riviera and, after dinner, checked in.

I didn’t do much that night — I’m not a bar-hopper. But I did sleep extraordinarily well.

Saturday: 6 AM Coffee, a Hike, Safety Seminar, and Dinner with Friends

My Last Trip to Vegas
Throughout this trip, I kept thinking back to my last trip to Vegas, which had been with my ex-husband and his mother.

I’d flown the three of us up in the helicopter, following the Colorado River from Lake Havasu to Lake Mead — my favorite route. After landing at McCarran Airport, we’d checked in the Bellagio hotel, which is actually quite pleasant (sure beats the Riviera, anyway). Then the fun began. My husband had rented a motorized wheelchair-type device for his mom. I got to watch her run into several people in the Bellagio lobby before we ventured out. The highlight of the trip? Seeing her ram the chair into a glass showcase filled with glass trinkets in a shop. I think we were at the Venetian. Nothing broke, but I swear that the shopkeeper was ready to kill us.

Needless to say, despite the comedy, that trip wasn’t my idea of fun. So very glad I’ll never have to do that again.

I may have slept well, but I was still up at the crack of dawn. I consulted the Starbucks app on my phone and learned that there was a 24-hour Starbucks at Treasure Island, which was about a mile down the strip. I dressed, put on my hiking shoes, and hit the pavement.

I like walking in Las Vegas early in the morning before the traffic and tourists get thick on the streets and sidewalks. There’s something magical about this fantasy place, something that makes it special and just a little more real. Like a made-up whore before the johns arrive.

I walked briskly, passing other strollers and the occasional jogger running the opposite direction. The weather was great — nice and cool. At Starbucks, I got my first eggnog latte for the season and a danish. Then I wandered outside onto Treasure Island’s boardwalk to enjoy it.

My Safety Meeting wasn’t until 3 PM, followed by a social hour. That meant I had the entire morning to kill. When I got back to the hotel, I researched the hikes scheduled for the Around the Bend Friends hiking group. I decided I’d go for a hike with them.

But first, I needed a sweatshirt. You see, I’d brought along my old Robinson jacket in case the weather got chilly. The jacket had two problems: (1) It’s black. Black is not a good color to wear in the desert when the sun is out. (2) The jacket no longer fit me. I had lost so much weight that it was far too big on me. I hadn’t worn it in so long that I just didn’t know. So I hit Walgreens on the way back and paid $25 for a light pink (!) sweatshirt with the words “Las Vegas” stitched across the front in white. Not my first choice, but beggars can’t be choosers. I now own exactly one pink item of clothing.

I blogged extensively about my hike with the Around the Bend Friends here. Read it and check out the photos from the hike.

After the hike, I had some lunch in one of the Riviera’s restaurants. Not recommended. Then I showered and dressed for the afternoon event. My brother, who lives in New Jersey and had just gotten his power back after Hurricane Sandy, called and we spent almost an hour chatting. Then my friend Don called to invite me out to dinner; I obviously had to decline since I was 300 miles away.

The safety seminar was informative but relied to heavily on PowerPoint presentations. (Seriously: are people still using PowerPoint to communicate?) A pilot friend of mine, Amanda, was there and sat with me for the second half of the seminar. I chatted with two of the speakers after their presentations to share my feedback with them. I was pleasantly surprised when one of them told me that he regularly reads my blog. Later, at the “social hour,” two other pilots introduced themselves and told me they read my blog. How cool is that?

When the social hour was over, I joined Amanda and four other people for dinner at the Peppermill, which is right next door to the Riviera. It’s a funky place with a real, old-style Las Vegas decor. It specializes in offering breakfast, lunch, and dinner 24 hours a day. I had breakfast — an egg concoction that could have fed the entire table. We talked about helicopters and safety, especially in EMS operations, which one of us had studied extensively.

The subject of my divorce also came up and when I reported everything I’d been through — finding out about his lies and infidelity, being locked out of my home and hangar, having to fight him in court to live in my own home — they all agreed that my husband was an asshole and that I was so much better off without him. No argument from me. During this past summer, he turned into an angry and hateful old man — I guess it rubbed off on him from the woman he’s sleeping with these days — and I can’t bear to see him anymore. (I can’t help but wonder what other maladies he caught from her.) So sad when a good man turns bad.

I was back in my room and ready for bed by 11 PM. Like I said — I’m not much for bar-hopping.

Sunday: A Long Walk and a Surprise Visit from a Friend

I woke up relatively late on Sunday, but since we had to set the clocks back, it was still early. I got my coffee in the hotel and wrote up the blog post about the previous day’s hike. Then I showered, dressed, and got on with my day.

Along the way, I’d checked in on Facebook. My friend Janet, who lives in Colorado, was on her way to Death Valley. She’d planned to spend the night in Mesquite, NV, which was about an hour from Vegas. We chatted on the phone and I convinced her to come all the way to Vegas and share my room. I had two beds. We’d go out that night and do something interesting.

This is what convinced me to spend the extra day in Vegas. I’d originally planned to come home on Monday, but was thinking that I was pretty much done with Vegas and would prefer to be home with my dog. But with Janet coming to see me, it made sense to stick around. The extra night in the room was certainly no financial burden. And it wasn’t as if I had anything vital to do at home.

But I still had the whole day to kill. I figured I’d kill it by doing a casino walk.

I’m not a gambler, but I like Las Vegas. I like the craziness of the casinos. The decor, the themes. The shops, the restaurants. My ex-husband seemed to share this interest with me — we’d often spend hours just walking from casino to casino, checking things out. It had been a long time since I did a casino walk and there were new casinos on the strip to explore. So I hopped in the car, drove it down to Luxor where parking was easy, and began my walk.

If you’re a friend of mine on Facebook, you’ve probably seen the photos. I checked in at almost every hotel/casino I walked through and included a photo. I’ll share a few of them here.

Inside Luxor
Inside Luxor.

Led Zep shirt
This shirt was for sale at Urban Outfitters. The sad part: I saw Led Zep on this tour at Madison Square Garden.

Ahi Tacos
My lunch at Fleur: Ahi Tacos.

Excalibur
The absurdity of Excalibur is mind-boggling.

New York New YorkNew York New York is a caricature of New York City, with a roller coaster just for kicks.

At Monte Carlo
Monte Carlo, like some of the other nicer hotels, has reproductions of classic sculpture.

At Crystals
I loved the seasonal decor at the Crystals shopping center.

Sewing Machines
All exterior windows of this shop at the Cosmopolitan were lined with old sewing machines — hundreds of them!

Inside the Conservatory
Bellagio’s Conservatory is always decorated for the seasons.

At the Forum Shops
At the Forum Shops at Caesar’s Palace.

Dessert
Banana tiramisu and latte at Olives.

In Luxor, I walked around the atrium level. I remember when the hotel was brand new. They had an arcade and several virtual reality rides. All that is gone now. There’s a Titanic exhibit which I would have seen if it weren’t $35. There’s also a great model of the Titanic down on the main lobby level, across from Registration.

I headed out toward Mandalay Bay. Along the way, I sopped at Urban Outfitters and bought a pair of shoes, two t-shirts, and a leather jacket. I restaurant-shopped at Mandalay Bay and settled on Fleur, where I enjoyed Ahi Tacos and a flatbread.

I hopped on the tram to Excalibur. I walked in only to refresh my memory. The place is as dark and sleazy on the inside as I remember it. I didn’t stay long. I wished I’d brought along some hand sanitizer.

From there, it was a short walk to New York New York. I’m not very fond of this place, either, although it sure beats Excalibur. I walked through to the other side, taking a short side trip to a magic shop to see what kinds of tricks they had for sale.

Then across the street to MGM Grand. They were doing some construction in there, so I didn’t stick around.

I crossed back to the west side of the Strip and visited the Monte Carlo. I’d stayed there once long ago — I can’t remember if it was with or without my ex-husband. (Really memorable trip, huh?) It’s a nice place — a lot classier than the ones I’d visited so far (except maybe Mandalay Bay), but not nearly as classy as others still to come on my walking tour. As I exited to the north, I stopped in at a cupcake shop and bought two cupcakes for later when Janet arrived.

From there, I hopped on another tram and took it one stop to City Center, which didn’t exist the last time I was in Vegas. This is an extremely upscale indoor mall fully occupied by shops that didn’t have a single customer in them. The same was true for the Crystals mall across the street. That one, at least, had interesting seasonal decor and lots of overweight midwesterners gawking. There was also some kinetic art, including lucite columns filled with whirlpools. Fascinating to look at closely.

The next stop was the Cosmopolitan, which is also new to me. I was impressed. It was trendy, but not ostentatious. Lots of young people staying there. Restaurants and shops that look approachable. I think I might stay there on my next visit, in March.

Bellagio, which I was familiar with from previous visits, was next. I visited the conservatory, which is decorated with plants and other items for each season. We were still in the autumn season, so there was an animatronic tree — very popular with the tourists — and a building with a watermill. I like that room — so festive and bright! Afterwards, I began my search for desert. I was hoping for Italian pastries and came up just a little short at the pastry/gelato shop near the Conservatory. So I kept moving.

Sometime around then, Facebook told me that a friend of mine, Tom, was nearby. Tom’s a pilot who works near Lake Havasu doing EMS. I posted a message to Tom. For the next two hours, we’d play message tag as I tried to zero in on his location for a possible meetup.

Next stop, Caesar’s Palace. This is an old hotel that they’ve managed to keep up-to-date and classy. I’m pretty sure it was the first hotel to be positioned back from Las Vegas Boulevard — although additions throughout the years have brought certain elements (such as the Forum Shops and a restaurant) right up to the street. I wandered through with my sights set on the Ferrara’s pastry shop I remembered in the Forum Shops. That’s where I’d get dessert. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. The pastry shop was gone and the pastries in the nearby coffee shop looked like they were from the previous day. Ick.

By that point, I’d come a full two miles from my starting point, most of it on foot. With the added wandering through casinos and shops, I figured I’d walked about three miles. I wasn’t the least bit tired and, because I’d worn my hiking shoes, my feet felt fine. Still, it was getting late and I figured it was time to walk back. And I still needed to find dessert.

I walked back from the Forum Shops along the street, trying to keep in the shade. It was very warm out. I’d stowed the short-sleeved shirt I wore over my tank top and was fine as long as I didn’t spend much time in the sun. I was sad to see that the Imperial Palace hotel/casino had shut down. It was one of the old timers. (Sahara has also shut down.)

When I got to the northeast entrance to Bellagio, I went right in. And that’s where I found desert: at Todd English’s Olives restaurant. I sat at the bar and enjoyed an excellent banana tiramisu with a latte.

Another message from Tom said he was having pizza at New York New York. I decided to try to catch him there. I took the tram from Bellagio to Monte Carlo, then walked to New York New York. But I was too late. I later found out that he had moved on to a sports bar to watch the game with his friends.

I walked the rest of the way back to my car at Luxor. My phone was nearly dead — I’d been checking in on Facebook all day long. But it wasn’t too dead to get a phone call from Janet. She was within sight of the city. There was a chance that she’d get to the Riviera before I did. Good thing I hadn’t found Tom.

I figure I walked 5 to 6 miles, most of which was at a good, brisk pace. I felt great — not tired at all.

I took back roads to the Riviera to avoid traffic on The Strip, but Janet still beat me there. It was great to see her. We went back to the room where we could chat and she could rest after her 8-hour drive. I filled her in on the bullshit going on at home. Like me, she still can’t believe how my ex-husband had changed over the summer. But she’d been with me when I arrived home in September to find the locks on the house and hangar changed. And she saw the damage to the boxes of my belongings that he’d carelessly stowed in the hangar before the floodwaters came. She knew the truth of the matter and, like me, couldn’t deny what he’d become.

Later on, we headed back out in my car. I’d tried my new leather jacket on again and decided I’d rather have one size larger. So we headed for Urban Outfitters at Mandalay Bay with the idea of Asian food at Rice at Luxor. (Remember, I’d scoped out all the restaurants.) The jacket wasn’t available in a larger size, so I just returned it. And then I suggested martinis at Red Square, a vodka bar in Mandalay Bay.

We wound up spending the entire evening there. They had a special that included 1/2 ounce of caviar with all the fixings if you bought two drinks with a certain Russian vodka. I love caviar and was willing to try the vodka. Both were excellent. We drank and ate and drank. Two rounds. And then topped it off with a round of Remy Martin VSOP.

Amazingly, I was sober enough to drive us back. Unfortunately, something I ate or drank — or perhaps it was the mix of vodka and Remy — made me sick. I lost all that nice vodka and caviar before going to bed.

Sunday: Recovery, Factory Tour, and a Long Drive Home

I wasn’t feeling much better when I woke up. I figured a hot shower would fix me right up, so I jumped in. Wrong. It made me feel worse. In fact, I puked up the water I’d had since waking.

Not good. I got back into bed, feeling like crap. Janet did her morning stuff, then went down in search of some chamomile tea and plain bread. By the time she returned, I was feeling well enough to sip tea and nibble a bagel. Janet got packed up to move on — she was spending that night with a friend camped out in town before heading to Death Valley. I got out of bed, dressed, and put on my makeup. By the time she was back from loading her van, I was almost ready to go.

We said our goodbyes and I finished packing. By 9:30 AM, I was back in my car, heading for Jim’s Start Pac factory near the airport. I got a warm welcome and a good tour of the place. It’s a great building in a nice industrial area — much nicer than his last place in Vegas. Lots of room to expand. He showed me his whole product line, including a self-propelled APU that he has a patent on. Jim’s a real inventor who follows through on his ideas. (Unlike another man who called himself an “inventor” when I first met him 29 years ago.) We chatted some more about the divorce — everyone wants the details — and I left with even more encouraging words.

I made two more stops on the way home: Another try with meeting up with a potential employer (unsuccessful) and Vons to buy some lunch. Realizing that the time change was working against me if I wanted to pick up Penny at boarding by 5:30, I hit the road. I ate a half sandwich and drank some water along the way. I still felt a bit weak from my stomach problem, but at least I was keeping food down.

I made good time on the way back and arrived in Wickenburg just before 4 PM local time. Penny was thrilled to see me. Both of us were glad to be home.

One final note…although I ate very heartily while I was away and was convinced that I gained several pounds over the weekend, I was thrilled to see the scale registering exactly what it had before I left. (I don’t think it had anything to do with my stomach problem on Sunday night/Monday morning; I didn’t really puke up that much food.) I’m starting to think that my metabolism has actually changed — possibly because of the higher level of activity I have now that I’m single and have a real social life. Yet another way divorce has been good to me.