Never Wait – It Could be too Late

Today I received an email from an old friend.   Well, actually it was from her mother, sister and daughter.  They must have sent the invitation to her memorial to everyone in her email address book.   At my age loosing friends is part of life and to be expected.  There is more to this story.

Christine and I met when my son and her daughter attended the same grade school in the early nineties.   Christine and I worked together on several school events and became friends.    The four of us started doing things together and our friendship grew.  One of our favorites was driving to Eastern Washington to visit Grandpa Bud.   Bud lived on a small ranch and had horses and a few head of cattle.  We would spend the weekend riding horses, relaxing and visiting with our hosts. 

In the late nineties when my family moved to a southern part of the state, it seemed too far to travel for either of us so we gradually lost contact.  You know how it is.   Softly, like a clearing mist, the friendship simply dissolves into living a new life.

Last Winter I found Christine again and we spoke several times on the phone and exchanged a few emails.  Our lives had changed, but shared experiences retained a tenuous bond.  I said I would plan a visit the next time I traveled to Washington. 

Summer.  I’m out of desert heat and enjoying a particularly beautiful season in the Pacific Northwest.   It is my intention to visit with my old friend.  But it was an interesting, challenging and busy Summer, so finding a weekend, since Christine works, just didn’t happen. 

Here is where the point of my story finally emerges. 
I could have made it happen.
Plans could have been changed.
Excuses are easy. 
Taking time for friends should never be pushed aside.
You never know when an opportunity to see an old friend is the last one.

Such regrets have entered my life before.  I hereby resolve to NEVER let them in again.

I urge you to take the time now.  You never know when it will be too late.  What seems difficult now, could become impossible at any moment.

Christine and Amanda on Tom in 1993

Grounded

Nope.  The plane is fine.  Spent an extra 2 weeks in Washington getting my prop overhauled and one blade replaced.  While this work was underway, Path’s annual was done.  This involved major repairs to the exhaust system, new ELT battery, and brake pads.   The total check was over $5,000.  Thus, I am Grounded.  I’ve got a perfectly good airplane and no spare money for fuel.   AOPA has a program underway to increase General Aviation flying and get more people to start flying.  They ask current pilots what can be done.  I’ve got one good answer.  GET FUEL AFFORDABLE!

Since new flying adventures will not be on the agenda until November, I’ll relate stories of past flights.

San Carlos Apache P13

During my quick trip back to AZ at the end of June, my neighbor, Keith was spending some time at his AZ home, so we decided to visit an airport I’d had on my list of “places to fly to”.    The direct route would lead me over Phoenix Sky Harbor International so I pointed Path SE, still in Class B space, but to the south of South Mountains and thus well out of Heavy (commercial jets) traffic.    

The airport is located on the Apache reservation about 8 nm SE of the town of Globe, Bésh Baa Gowąh – “place of metal” in the Apache language.   The town is just another small town from the air, but the Blue Ball copper mine is impressive.   Mine and tailings ponds cover a lot of acreage.
 


 
 

Here are Keith and Thorn, who thoroughly enjoyed our explorations on the ground. 
 

Upon landing, I taxied over to a tie down area near what appeared to be a part-time FBO of sorts.  The airport was very quiet and had an air of abandonment.   Wanting to stretch our legs we walked west following the boundary fence and about mid-field came across a large parking area with vault toilets and a handy gate to the casino across the road.   It was our opinion that a flight for a meal at the casino would be an outing to consider in future.   The flight is under one hour, the temperature 10 or more degrees cooler than Buckeye.   Some appealing hills across the runway called for hiking exploration.

Alaska Notes

I went to  North Pole.  No, unfortunately not the real place, just a town a few miles east of Fairbanks called North Pole.  In most ways its simply small clusters of civilization among stretches of mostly wild.  But one thing I’ve noted is that Alaska recognizes the value of tourists – so North Pole has Santa Land.  An averagely done giant Santa figure, a herd of sad reindeer behind a lot of fence and an artistically decorated Santa’s House full of tourist shopper dreams.   I bought a keychain for my son’s collection, and for me, a box of decadent fudge.   I watched Santa greet small children and smile happily as giggling teenage girls piled on his lap.  I coveted, but resisted tempting arrays of Christmas ornaments, some quite unique.   The small downtown featured candy cane street light poles and every business is decorated for the holiday all year round.   

I caught a glimpse of Denali  -  far to the south and barely visible through  clouds, but I saw it!

Fairbanks came to be shortly after gold was discovered here in 1901.  The immediate area is called “The Golden Heart”.    The town is much smaller than I expected – a walk from one side of the downtown to the other is less than a mile.  There is a lot of commercial area spread out along Airport Road, the main east/west  route.    Like any other place, there is good and bad.  It’s shocking to see the number of drunks staggering about or  laying on the ground sleeping it off right in the middle of the day!   Lots of bars and breweries both upscale and low.   We visited The Silver Gulch brewery in a small community called Fox.  They have a good sized brewery on the premises and my daughter assures me the beers are wonderful – she had one called Cranberry Bog.    The food is truly excellent – I ordered the Pear Gorgonzola Pizza and remember it, longing for more.

 

Fairbanks is rich with walking paths, most with chain link fencing protecting them from traffic.  Thorn and I walk everyday -  our favorite is along the Chena River.  These paths are also for bicycles and are well utilized.  Along rural roads are paved or gravel paths  set aside for the use of ATV’s now and snow machines in winter.  My granddaughter actually commutes to work on an ATV which is a common and accepted method of travel here.     

   

Relaxation and Exploration

A road of 58 miles out of Fairbanks ends at Chena Hot Springs. 
You want to go further south, it’s get into a Super Cub on tundra tires and take off on this strip.  
Four departed while we were there – my daughter could not believe planes would take off with clouds sitting on hilltops.  I assured her these pilots know the area and are confident of a positive outcome.  This native pilot reluctantly posed for the tourist, after warning me to be aware of the prop.  I don't think he believed my "I'm a pilot" statement.
For $10 you can soak in the sandy bottom pool as long as you want.  We stayed for hours, took a lunch break, and soaked some more.   The sprinkler provides a refreshing shower of cooler water.

   
 
This input pipe provided a free deep tissue massage.  Felt really wonderful on feet and back.
 
This delightful iron dragon has propane in his belly and on special occasions spits fire as a proper dragon should.
With 24 hour light, flowers grow and bloom in profusion.  This bunch grows in an old gold mining scoop.
 

What arguably is the wildest, most natural state in the union is populated by a lot of people who seem to have no appreciation or respect for their surroundings.   The majority of homes I’ve seen are ill-kept with yards piled with possessions (junk).   Out along the Chena River, which should be a place for the city folks to enjoy nature, are scenes like this.
Driving with my daughter in her jeep we had to navigate around glass bottles and other potentially dangerous bits.   The sad thing is that residents of Fairbanks do not have to pay anything to go to the dump!  Yet they drive out into nature to throw garbage into their world. Sad.

Frozen North

Yup.  I’m in Fairbanks, Alaska.  In the past couple weeks I drove back to AZ with Ramses and Liberty, left them there, and flew back to WA in Path.
Leaving Path behind at Shady Acres, I flew commercial to Alaska.  My thinking was that a pilot without an Instrument Rating has no business flying into this state of rapidly changing weather conditions.  The difficult part was departing SeaTac airport.  The two commercial flights I’ve taken since Nine-Eleven were from small Mesa Airport in AZ where the check in and security process is simple.   Not so at SeaTac (Seattle/Tacoma).

 I arrived with two suitcases, computer bag, purse, one excited Australian Cattle Dog puppy and the crate in which he would travel.  I’ve only got two hands, so forked over $4 to rent one of those luggage carts.  The semi-useless things are not designed to carry much so I spent a lot of time stopping to reload strewn possessions, all while Thorn helped as only he can.    I stood in one long line to check the two bags, another to do dog travel paperwork.  Nearly 2 hours remained before flight time so I delayed putting Thorn in the crate and turning him over to baggage.   Forty minutes prior to scheduled departure I abandoned my dog and rounded the corner to…a line that would make Disneyland’s worst look short.  Who knew?   That 2 hours early thing the airlines mention, is for standing in line, shoes in hand, to be inspected.   I quickly realized my chances of making it to the gate in time were slim…and I was correct.  Arriving panting and frazzled I found the boarding door closed.   Wait!   My dog is on that plane!  Panic!   A lovely young woman at the counter assured me that Thorn had not been loaded (no one mentioned he had to be checked in a full hour prior to departure).   She then got busy and rescheduled me for the next flight, departing in one hour.  Expecting to pony up a huge fee for changing flights, I was pleasantly surprised – no charge.   Please allow a short commercial – Alaska Airlines has efficient, thoughtful personnel and customer friendly policies – they earn your business, and have mine!  The baggage handler who loaded Thorn actually came into the cabin to hand me the confirmation ticket and assure me my dog was on board.

Since arriving in this state of adventure, imagination and romance, the weather has been wet and grey but certainly not frozen.  I’m in a state that has held my fascination since reading the first Jack London novel over 50 years ago.  The land of the Midnight Sun is as named – no darkness.  The sun dips down to what in the lower 48 is 5:00 pm and then starts back up again.  Sleeping is strange – with light streaming in the windows, you just don’t get tired. 

The evergreen trees here are short, narrow and remind me of something from Dr Suez. 

Roads are frequently as bumpy as flying through turbulence, due to frost heaving.
Yup.  I’m in Fairbanks, Alaska.  In the past couple weeks I drove back to AZ with Ramses and Liberty, left them there, and flew back to WA in Path.
Leaving Path behind at Shady Acres, I flew commercial to Alaska.  My thinking was that a pilot without an Instrument Rating has no business flying into this state of rapidly changing weather conditions.  The difficult part was departing SeaTac airport.  The two commercial flights I’ve taken since Nine-Eleven were from small Mesa Airport in AZ where the check in and security process is simple.   Not so at SeaTac.

 I arrived with two suitcases, computer bag, purse, one excited Australian Cattle Dog puppy and the crate in which he would travel.  I’ve only got two hands, so forked over $4 to rent one of those luggage carts.  The semi-useless things are not designed to carry much so I spent a lot of time stopping to reload strewn possessions, all while Thorn helped as only he can.    I stood in one long line to check the two bags, another to do dog travel paperwork.  Nearly 2 hours remained before flight time so I delayed putting Thorn in the crate and turning him over to baggage.   Forty minutes prior to scheduled departure I abandoned my dog and rounded the corner to…a line that would make Disneyland’s worst look short.  Who knew?   That 2 hours early thing the airlines mention, is for standing in line, shoes in hand, to be inspected.   I quickly realized my chances of making it to the gate in time were slim…and I was correct.  Arriving panting and frazzled I found the boarding door closed.   Wait!   My dog is on that plane!  Panic!   A lovely young woman at the counter assured me that Thorn had not been loaded (no one mentioned he had to be checked in a full hour prior to departure).   She then got busy and rescheduled me for the next flight, departing in one hour.  Expecting to pony up a huge fee for changing flights, I was pleasantly surprised – no charge.   Please allow a short commercial – Alaska Airlines has efficient, thoughtful personnel and customer friendly policies – they earn your business, and have mine!  The baggage handler who loaded Thorn actually into the cabin to hand me the confirmation ticket and assure me my dog was on board.

Since arriving in this state of adventure, imagination and romance, the weather has been wet and grey but certainly not frozen.  I’m in a state that has held my fascination since reading the first Jack London novel over 50 years ago.  The land of the Midnight Sun is as named – no darkness.  The sun dips down to what in the lower 48 is 5:00 pm and then starts back up again.  Sleeping is strange – with light streaming in the windows, you just don’t get tired. 

The evergreen trees here are short, narrow and remind me of something from Dr Suez. 
Roads are frequently as bumpy as flying through turbulence, due to frost heaving.

The pipeline is a presence here, appearing, climbing and vanishing, only to reappear later as it snakes its way over still another mountain.

Red and Blue

McMinnville Oregon.  

Been here a week visiting with friends and shopping for a new-to-me truck.  Big Red is a fine machine, but the fifth wheel  I’ve been asking him to pull is near the top of his abilities and he is 17 years old.   He is officially retired.

Introducing  Ramses.

  
He is a 2004 Dodge Ram 2500 ¾ ton with a Cummins Diesel engine.  I’m told by guys who know these things that Ramses will pull Liberty “as if it wasn’t there.”    I don’t know that yet, as I’m still trying to get the hitch installed.  I won’t go into the long sad story in detail. The RV shop mis-quoted (under of course),  didn’t include all the required parts, etc.

I filled Ramses tanks today for the first time.  OMG!   Pump shock.   The trip computer indicated 708 miles to empty and that does NOT take into account the 30 gallon auxiliary tank.   Full tanks on Big Red were good for 240 miles.  I think I’m going to like diesel just fine.

On the bright side.  Today it didn’t rain and it was a comfortable mid-70’s day.   Oregon is a beautiful state, especially when the sun shines.  If you haven't been, try to visit.   

For my desert friends I’ve included this pix of a county road crew cutting down trees that grow so fast they cause problems with power and phone lines.
In this area of 4 feet by 10 feet I counted 15 different plants – growing wild and free.   All that rain creates unrelenting green.

Yosemite National Park...at Last !

Back, way way back in 1960, I wrote a report for school on Yosemite National Park.  Been reading about and watching documentaries on this park ever since.  Yeah, I know.  It’s about time I managed to visit.

Met a few challenges enroute, but last Wednesday  Liberty, Big Red, Thorn and myself pulled up to the entrance.   Paid my $10 and became the proud owner of a National Parks Senior Pass.   I’ve been eligible for several months, but was determined to make the purchase ONLY at Yosemite.  

El Portal Entrance.  Looked very Small!

May is earlier enough in the travel season, that I should have no problem getting a camping spot.  Or so I thought.   Brain damage apparently comes with retirement.  It was all the ranger could do to keep from laughing out loud when I innocently said “I’d like a camping spot for a fifth wheel for two days.”  
“You mean for tonight?”  she said politely.
“Yes. Please.”   Here is where her professionalism kicked in as she patiently pointed out the list of names a page and a half long of people like myself who were hoping to get lucky.  No room.

Okay.  So at least I’m here and I’ve already spotted Bridal Veil Falls


Yosemite Falls

This red wing blackbird posed 4 feet away as if to say “Take my picture!”

Now all I have to do is find a place to park for the day and use the free park shuttle bus to get visit the rest of the sites, and the trailhead to make a lovely day hike closer to Half Dome.   The keepers of Yosemite have worked hard to maintain its natural beauty.  Minimum sized roads, tiny little parking lots tucked into trees.  It only took an hour to find a spot big enough that I could park.  Whew.  Off to the bus stop – I’ll go straight for half dome.  Backpack, hiking stick and dog in hand I see the bus approach. 
“Sorry lady.  Dogs are not allowed on buses.”

Still.  We can walk anywhere we want, along handy paths… packed with tourists and bicycles (honk honk passing on your right.  Beep beep passing on your left).   Thorn tangles in the walking stick and eagerly tries to greet everyone he sees with a lunge and a leap.    Tiring and a bit dangerous, the plan is scrapped.   Back to Liberty.  It’s okay, I think.  I did see some of Yosemite and another visit can be planned.

On the way out of the park I spot a place with parking, right in front of El Capitan.   A big meadow perfect to let an energetic puppy burn off some energy,  lots of photogenic views for me.

So I have crossed Yosemite off my Bucket List.