An Eclectic Mind

Two flying jobs in one day.

I spent most of yesterday flying — and that’s not an exaggeration. I was in the cockpit almost nonstop from 8 AM through 5 PM. During that time, the helicopter was on the ground waiting for less than two hours — and most of that time was for either fueling or waiting for passengers.

The Plan

I’d been booked to fly a series of 30-minute tours for a bunch of lawyers in Phoenix for a conference. The woman who made the arrangements started a dialog with me about it at least four months ago, and I admit I didn’t think the job would happen. But about a month and a half ago, she finalized. There would be 21 passengers — that meant 7 individual flights of 30 minutes each. Three and a half hours of flight time. That’s the kind of job you just don’t want to turn down. Best of all, I received payment by check a week before the flight. So I was booked for 12 noon out of Deer Valley Airport in Phoenix.

The day before that flight, I got a phone call from a local video producer. He needed a helicopter to fly a job on the same day. (Why does this always happen? Nothing major for a week or two and then two job possibilities at the same date and time?) I explained that I was only available before 11:30 AM or after 5 PM. He said he’d call back. When he did, he said the morning slot would work best, since the home he needed to video from the air faced east. After a few more phone conversations with him and his camera guy, I was booked for 8:45 AM out of Falcon Field airport in Mesa.

The Photo Shoot

Early yesterday morning, Mike and I were at the airport, pulling the helicopter out and fueling it up for the flight down to Falcon Field.* Mike was coming with me for the Phoenix Tour portion of the day; I needed someone reliable to safely “hot” load and unload my passengers, since shutting down after each flight would be far too time consuming. He wanted to fly with me on the photo shoot, but I would have a cameraman and director onboard and the added weight of a fourth person would have severely restricted my performance. As it turned out, we didn’t have room for him — the cameraman brought all kinds of stuff with him that took up the other seat.

The flight down to Falcon Field was relatively uneventful. We took a route that scouted around the south sides of Deer Valley’s and Scottsdale’s airspace. Normally, I’d fly between Squaw Peak and Camelback, but I wanted to preview the area I’d be flying for the photo shoot. I’d found it on Google Maps; as you can see here in a Google Maps satellite view, it’s on the side of a mountain at the end of a canyon. (I don’t want to identify the house in question or even provide details on where it is. Even though it’s in a gated community, I know there are people who read this blog and have nothing better to do than track down the places I write about.) From there, we continued on to Falcon Field, where I landed on a helipad at the base of the tower and shut down.

The film’s director, Anthony, was already there. He’d been told to meet us at 8:30. We’d been told 8:45. Evidently, the cameraman had been told 9:00. He arrived at 9:15. He’d had some trouble with the camera mount and his gyro. Mike, Anthony, and I chatted while we waited. He told us that the house in question was a rental and the video was for promotional purposes.

The cameraman, Will, arrived with all kinds of equipment. We brought it all out to the helicopter and helped him prepare it. He climbed into a very serious harness with the thickest web straps I’d ever seen. That turned out to be a good thing, since he depended on that to keep him from falling out and he did most of his work with both feet on the skids. (I’m glad he was sitting behind me where I couldn’t see him.) He also had a helicopter pilot helmet, which he said made it possible for him to get his head closer to the camera. The camera was quite large and he put additional equipment on the back seat beside him, as well as on the floor in front of that seat. Anthony sat up front next to me, with a video monitor he could use to see and direct Will’s camera work. Will’s door was off, of course.

Both of them had spent extensive time in a helicopter doing this kind of work, but Mike gave them the safety briefing anyway. Then I started up, warmed up, and took off.

To say the shoot was tricky is an understatement. The house in question was the highest one on the hill, but it was still below the ridge lines nearby. It was also at the end of a canyon. I couldn’t hover for long abeam it because (1) if I got into settling with power, there was no place to escape to, (2) hovering that low would put me too close to neighboring homes, and (3) 10-15 mph winds from the south over the nearest ridge set up nasty turbulence at that level in the canyon. So although I was able to give them plenty of low, slow passes, I had to keep moving, keeping my speed above 20-25 knots so I wouldn’t slip below ETL. I also couldn’t get as low as they wanted.

I should mention the effect they were trying to achieve: Zoom in on a guy on the balcony who is talking to the camera. Make it look as if the camera guy is standing with him — not on a helicopter hovering 200 yards away. Then pull back to reveal the home and mountainside from the helicopter. They called it a “snap.” It sounds like a great shot, but it was nearly impossible to achieve. I don’t know if they expected me to hover out of ground effect 100 feet away from the house in a canyon with neighboring homes nearby in 10-15 mph winds, but I’m not an idiot. While it might be possible for a 10,000 hour pilot who didn’t worry about safety or noise flying a twin-engine turbine, it wasn’t possible for me to do it safely in a loaded R44.

There was some confusion with the actors, too. Anthony did all of his communication by cell phone and text messaging, but apparently there were a lot of lost instructions. I won’t go into details, but some of it would have been funny if they weren’t paying me to watch it from the air. So it didn’t come off exactly as planned. But they assured me that they got plenty to work with. I hope so. We were on point for more than 90 minutes — and I’m sure I’m going to get phone calls on Monday morning.

From there, Anthony wanted to shoot his office, which was near Scottsdale Airport. I asked where it was in relation to the tower. About a half mile northeast. I got permission from the tower to enter their airspace and move into permission. I had to stay low-level to keep away from other traffic, so we were about 300-400 feet up. It turns out, his office is a block away from the taxiway at Scottsdale airport. I reported on point to the the tower and did two circles while Will shot video.

Then we peeled off to shoot someone else’s house just inside Scottsdale’s space. By this time, Scottsdale Tower had cut me loose with a “Frequency change approved,” and I was pretty much free to do what I wanted. Unfortunately, this required some low (300-400 feet), slow flight over a golf course and the folks on the fairway stopped to give us some dirty looks. More phone calls on Monday, I suppose.

We were back at Falcon Field at 11:20, just 10 minutes before I wanted to be out of there. I’d flown 2.2 hobbs hours — more than twice the time we’d originally estimated for the flight. I had to cool down and shut down. Mike put the door back on and we all helped Will get his camera stuff out while he disconnected his harness. There was a lot of hand shaking all around before they left. I got a fuel truck over to top off both tanks, settled my fuel bill, and started up for the flight to Deer Valley.

The Phoenix Tours

We were supposed to be at Deer Valley by 12 noon. We were late, arriving at about 12:10 PM. I hate to be late. Being late tells the person waiting for you that he’s not important. Nothing could be further from the truth, especially in this case. So I sent Mike in while I was shutting down on the east helipad. Fortunately, the client was very understanding. Since I was already fueled, we were ready to go. Our first flight departed Deer Valley at 12:20 PM.

They wanted a tour of Phoenix that would last 30 minutes. Frankly, it would have been easier to come up with a tour that lasted only 15 minutes. Deer Valley is due north of downtown and I could have done a loop down to McDowell, back over their hotel — they were staying at the Biltmore — and back to Deer Valley. But they wanted 30 minutes and I wanted to deliver it. So I came up with a route that included quite a bit of the west side of Phoenix. The highlight out there was Cardinals Stadium, where they played the Super Bowl this past February. Although the roof was closed, the grass field was outside and I was able to explain how they moved it in and out as needed for games. On one flight, the sprinklers were even on. The grass looked perfect from 500 feet up.

Here’s a Google Maps image of the exact route. You can follow this link for an interactive version.

The flight was challenging because I had to pass through three different towered airport airspaces: Deer Valley (Class D), Glendale (Class D), and Phoenix Sky Harbor (Class B). To make things a little easier, on one of the first flights, I told the towers at Glendale and Phoenix that I’d be doing the same thing six more times.

The tower at Sky Harbor was especially friendly. After the third flight through, the controller could no longer hold back his curiosity. “What are you doing, anyway?” he asked as I exited to the north.

“Half-hour tours of Phoenix from Deer Valley Airport,” I replied.

“Sounds like fun. See you later.”

“Ill be back in 35 minutes,” I told him.

Glendale tower’s controller asked me if I was on traffic watch, probably because I was following the Loop-101 south to I-10. The question surprised me, so I just told him no, but didn’t say what I was doing.

My passengers were very nice and very friendly. They’d come from all over the world: New York, Seattle, Portland, San Diego, Sidney, and Shanghai, to name a few cities. I pointed out sights. They asked questions about what we were seeing and how the helicopter works. They all seemed to enjoy the flight. I estimate that about a third of them had never been on a helicopter before. About a third had never been to Phoenix before, either.

On the last flight, I took some video of the entire flight with my POV.1, from departure to landing. Because the sun was low — it was about 4 PM when I took off — the westbound video isn’t very good. And by the time I got faced the other way, there were bugs on the lens. I probably have a few good clips from the video, though. I decided that I want to try repositioning the camera to the front of the helicopter, pointing straight out. Although the video from my side isn’t bad, I usually make a conscious effort to put the best view on the other side, where two people are sitting. So my view isn’t as good as what the passengers see and the video doesn’t represent their flight as well. Need to work on that.

The Flight Home

After the last tour, I didn’t even bother shutting down. We had enough fuel for the flight home — I’d refueled after the fourth flight. Mike escorted the last group to safety and they made their way back into the terminal. He climbed on board and we took off.

We landed at Wickenburg just after 5 PM. When I shut down and checked the Hobbs meter, I realized that I’d flown 7-1/2 hours that day. I was exhausted.

*Flying M Air stock photo by Jon Davison.

I remember that not everyone knows what the world looks like from 500 feet up.

The other day, while I was down in Surprise, AZ, doing a bit of “analog shopping” — that’s the kind of shopping where you physically walk into a store and look around and maybe buy something but maybe don’t, as opposed on online shopping, which is how I usually buy things other than food or fuel — I suddenly realized that most people don’t have any idea what the area around their homes, schools, or businesses looks like from the air. Right now, I can’t remember what triggered that thought, but I do recall that it hit me hard — hard enough to remember, anyway. I told myself to give the idea some thought and blog about it.

Chances are that you are one of the people who haven’t seen your local environment from the air and you probably don’t think that’s a big deal. Most people haven’t. And that’s what hit me so hard: that the pilots of small aircraft are a minority, not just because they fly, but because they’ve seen so many things from above.

The View from My Seat

I started flying in 1998 or 1999 (need to check my log book to be sure). Back then, I spent most of my flight time just thinking about flying. I was taking lessons to learn how to fly and didn’t have much time to admire the view. But the time I could fly, the view had become second nature.

So yes — I know what a subdivision looks like from the air. And a school with ball fields. And a park and a town pool. I’ve seen all kinds of backyards, from perfectly trimmed, walled-in plots of grass or decorative rock to sprawling, weed- and junk-filled patches of desert. I’ve seen small downtowns, both dead and alive. I’ve seen where the pavement turns to dirt and what lies five miles beyond. Or ten. Or fifty.

I’ve seen desert lakes and rivers winding through canyons. I’ve seen dams along the Colorado and canals stretching as far as the eye can see. I’ve seen, from the air, natural wonders, like the Grand Canyon, Meteor Crater, the Little Colorado River Gorge, the Grand Falls of the Little Colorado River, and Rainbow Bridge. I’ve flown beside red rocks in Sedona and Monument Valley buttes. I’ve peeked into open pit mines from above and have felt as small as a speck flying down the emptiness of Death Valley. Recently, I’ve flown over Alaskan glaciers blanketed with fresh, pristine snow that went on for twenty, thirty, or forty miles without so much as a footprint to disturb it.

I’ve seen so many things from the air — often from 500 to 1000 feet up — that when I’m on the ground, I can often envision what the place might look like from the air.

That doesn’t mean I’m bored with the view. While I’ll admit that spending 20 minutes to cross an empty valley in some of the more remote areas of Nevada and California can get pretty dull, there’s always something interesting to notice along the way. Perhaps it’s a deserted homestead, half blown away by wind or covered by sand. Or some ATVs speeding along a transmission line road, sending up a cloud of dust that reveals their position. Or maybe it’s just an odd rock formation, jutting out of the otherwise flat terrain like the ruins of a half-sunken ship.

I wish I could share these images with others, but it’s tough. When I fly, my right hand is always on the cyclic. Cameras are designed to be used with the right hand. Although I’ve become pretty good at taking photos with my left hand, only a small percentage of those shots really show what I’m seeing, without glare and reflections from the cockpit bubble. And sometimes the interesting things I fly by go by very quickly — too quickly to snap a photo. Like the Indian cliff dwelling I passed on a flight from Howard Mesa to Scottsdale at least a year ago; I was in too much of a hurry to circle back and see it again — or get the GPS coordinates. I haven’t found it again.

I write about many of my flights in this blog. If I have photos, I share them. If you’re new to this blog and want to read a few of my better efforts, be sure to check out these:

• Page to Havasu by Helicopter
• Breakfast in Winslow…No, Page…No, Marble Canyon
• The Winslow Loop
• Wrath of the Hassayampa

There’s more, but I’ll let you find them for yourself. Clicking the Flying link under Blog Topics in the sidebar will get you started.

But neither the words nor the photos can truly share the experience of flight or the view from above.

Why I Give Rides

When I first started Flying M Air, I depended on ride gigs to generate income and help cash flow. I soon learned that, in general, giving short rides at a carnival or airport event is a lot more trouble than it’s worth.

First there’s the bother of setting up the event, making sure the landing zone is close enough to the action to be visible to attendees, but far enough away to be safe. The approach and departure routes, which are often the same, need to be clear of obstructions. I need to be able to point the helicopter’s tail away from where people might be waiting or walking when I set down. The insurance paperwork and fees are minor concerns after that.

But the hard part is the flying. It’s grueling work, sitting in the seat for hours on end with a takeoff and a landing every 10 to 15 minutes. With three people on board, we’re usually close to max gross weight and, on a hot day with a crosswind or tailwind, just getting off the ground is challenging.

Once we get off the ground and start on our little tour of the area, though, it’s worth it. More than half the people I fly on rides have never been in a helicopter before. At some events, more than half my passengers are kids. I have the unique opportunity to introduce these people to helicopter flight. And as they chat among each other in the helicopter and ask me questions, I get a glimpse of what they’re seeing through their eyes.

And that’s why I do rides.

While people do some quick math and think I’m making a fortune on every rides gig, the reality is very different; I can usually net more money doing a few trips to the Grand Canyon or Sedona than I can at a rides gig — and that flying is easy.

More Stories and Photos to Come

I’m doing a cross-country flight in mid-May with another pilot. We’re flying from Wickenburg, AZ to Seattle, WA. This will be my longest cross-country flight to date — previously, my longest flight was from Wickenburg to Georgetown, CA. Because that other pilot will be doing most of the flying, I’ll have my door off and my good camera ready. I plan to take lots of pictures and write about the flight in detail.

I’m sure that much of what I have to show and tell will appear here.

Just a few shots taken by a French photographer.

Back in January, I wrote a blog post called “Over Quartzsite.” In it, I told the story of a photo shoot over Quartzsite, AZ.

The post was remarkable in that it got a comment from someone who had heard about my overflight from one of the folks on the ground that day. It’s always rewarding when I write about one of my experiences and someone who was there from a different point of view comments on it.

Anyway, I didn’t hear anything from the photographer after the flight. Until today. He e-mailed me:

My story about QZ was published last week in France, six pages in a weekly.

I attached few of the aerial shots. Photos 1 & 2 were published.

For your private record you can post it but don’t give them away.

Also, I did again overnight park my camper outside a motel.
On Superbowl Sunday, I drove to Blythe and book a room to watch the game.

Good flights in your lovely state.

Attached to the message were five images that he took that day.

I asked his permission to reproduce low-res versions of the images here. He graciously said yes. If you read French, you can find his article at http://www.vsd.fr/contenu-editorial/photo-story/l-oeil-de-vsd/
58-arizona-les-papys-font-de-la-transhumance. All of the aerial photos were taken from my helicopter.

Here are the three I like best.

This photo shows a super wide angle view of Quartzsite from the south, right around sunset. No, we weren’t high enough to see the curvature of the earth — that’s the effect of the photographer’s wide-angle lens. (Apparently, I’m not the only one who likes fisheye lenses.) In the foreground is the big tent for the RV show. This is the biggest week in Quartzsite. This, by the way, is what he refers to as Photo 2. I think it’s the best of the bunch.

This shot was taken from the east side of town looking west, not long before sunset. The main road you see is I-10; it’s in the other shot, too. All those white specks are RVs — people dry camping out in the desert on BLM land.

I love this shot. It shows a typical area of RV campers. Makes you think of old westerns, doesn’t it? Circle the wagons, boys! We must have spent 20 minutes circling this huge parking lot — I think he took dozens of photos. I think I like this shot because it makes you feel as if the same pattern of circled RVs exists infinitely in this area.

Looking for CFIs interested in building flight time.

One of the drawbacks of being based in Wickenburg is the fact that most of my flying business doesn’t originate here. In fact, a good bit of it originates at locations at least an hour away.

The problem with this is that not everyone is willing to pay the cost for me to fly from Wickenburg to the job location and back. And I simply cannot reposition the aircraft to a job site for free — especially for short jobs.

Low-Time CFIs Wanted

That’s where certificated pilots — preferably CFIs — can help. There are quite a few of them out there who have their ratings but don’t have enough time to do anything with them. They’re interested in building time, but they have limited budgets.

So the idea is this: when I have a flight that requires the aircraft to be repositioned more than an hour away, one of these pilots can fly with me, from the left (co-pilot) seat to build time and gain valuable cross-country experience. He’d contribute to the hourly cost of flying the helicopter, thus enabling me to pass these savings on to my client. And his cost would be considerably less than the hourly cost to rent a helicopter like mine from a flight school or other organization in the business of renting aircraft.

For me, having someone share ferry costs can mean the difference between getting a job and not getting a job. For example, I recently lost a job opportunity at Primm, NV because my client would have to pay the 3.4 hours (round trip) ferry cost. Although my per hour flight fee was cheaper than my competition, my competition was closer and didn’t have to charge for the ferry flight.

Future Flights Up for Grabs

I’m currently looking for pilots interested in sharing ferry costs on the following flight legs:

• Washington State to Las Vegas, NV or Wickenburg, AZ - August 2008 - approximately 9 to 11 hours; will require an overnight stay
• Wickenburg to Las Vegas, NV - August 2008 - approx. 2 hours
• Reno, NV to Wickenburg, AZ - August 2008 - approx. 5 hours
• Wickenburg to Mesquite, NV (round trip) - September 2008 - approx. 4 hours total; may require an overnight stay
• Wickenburg to Henderson, NV (round trip) - December 2008 - approx. 4 hours total; may require an overnight stay

Some of these flights are for photo jobs and may offer experience as an observer with dual controls out.

If pilots don’t pick up these flights, they’re likely to appear as Be Spontaneous! offers for non-pilots (see below).

Get On My List

Are you interested? If so, great! But are you qualified? Here’s a list of qualifications:

• Certified Flight Instructor for Helicopters
• At least 250 hours flight time in Robinson Helicopters
• R44 Endorsement
• Prior attendance at Robinson Factory Safety Course
• Weight less than 230 pounds. (Under 200 lbs. is preferred.)

If you meet all of these qualifications and are interested in building some time, I want to hear from you. Use the Contact Form to get in touch with me with your list of qualifications. You can also use the Comments link or form for this post to get in touch — just don’t put your contact info in the body of the form; doing so makes it public.

I will provide rate information to qualified pilots only, so please don’t use the comments for this post to ask about rates.

Not A Pilot? You Can Still Fly Cheap

Of course, since I’m a Part 135 operator, I can take regular passengers on these ferry flights — with the dual controls out, of course. That’s what some of the Be Spontaneous! offers on the Flying M Air Web site are all about. If I have to reposition the helicopter to anywhere more than 30 minutes away, I often offer cheap seats on the repositioning flights.

For example, if I have a tour out of Scottsdale, I might offer a $95/person round trip flight from Wickenburg to Scottsdale. Up to three people can make the flight with me before my scheduled tour and have breakfast or lunch at the airport restaurant while they’re waiting for me to finish up. Then we fly back together. My passengers get two cheap scenic flights totaling over an hour of flight time and I get part of my ferry costs covered.

Or perhaps I have a two-day photo job in Page, AZ. I might offer two seats for $350 each to Page one day with a return flight the next day. Passengers would be on their own to get hotel accommodations and fill the time there until the return flight. They’d get over 3-1/2 hours of scenic flight time for much less than I would normally charge for the flight ($1,732.50 for the flight at my current rate).

Similarly, if I have to go to Scottsdale or Deer Valley or Page for a client, I might offer other tours at a reduced rate there the same day, before or after my scheduled flight.

If you’re in the Wickenburg or Phoenix area and this sounds interesting to you, you can use the form here or on the Flying M Air Web site to sign up to receive Be Spontaneous! special offers by e-mail. Or you can just check in at Flying M Air periodically to see what’s available.

Keep in mind that these prices don’t even cover my costs, so please don’t expect me to offer or honor them at times other than when listed as an offer on the Web site.

And if you’re wondering why I call them “Be Spontaneous!” offers, it’s because they’re sometimes made available with as little as 2 days advance notice. You have to make a decision quickly to take advantage of them.

Part of Being a Small Business

All this is part of being a small business — finding ways to help cover costs and maximize revenues.

If you or someone you know can help, we can both benefit.

Evaluating job opportunities.

Let’s face it: summer in the Phoenix area is brutal, as far as weather is concerned. Temperatures reaching triple digits every day from June through September. Humidity kicking in with the monsoonal rains in July and August. Everything slows down as half the population goes back to the midwest and northwest. Business — especially tourism-related business — dries up.

It’s idiotic to stay in the area if you don’t have to.

How I Spent My Last Four Summers

Back in 2004, I had a summer job as a pilot up at the Grand Canyon. It was a relatively convenient job for me, with a 7 on/7 off schedule that enabled me to go home every other week and work on whatever book projects were on my plate. The Grand Canyon area gets warm in the summer, but it’s nothing like the Phoenix area so it was a good escape from the heat. And the flying I did there was challenging, helping to improve my flying skills and knowledge. In other words, it was a good job experience.

I took the summer of 2005 off from flying. That was the summer I did my “midlife crisis road trip” — 16 days driving around the northwest, looking for a better place to live year-round or in the summer months.

In the spring of 2006, I made contact with another Robinson operator based in Washington State. He introduced me to the world of cherry drying, which looked like a good opportunity. Although he said he might have enough work for both of us, that didn’t pan out. So I stayed home that summer, doing a few flights here and there.

In the spring of 2007, my cherry drying friend was certain that he had work for both of us. With his guidance, I submitted a bid to a grower who showed a definite interest in both of us. In the end, he accepted a bid from a turbine helicopter pilot who promised him stick time in his aircraft. That’s a perk I wasn’t willing or able to throw into my bid package. By then, it was too late to find other work. So I stayed home for most of that summer, too.

Except in June.

Alaska

In June 2007, Mike and I went on vacation in Alaska. We were there for about 10 days, including a 7-day cruise.

Alaska is big and we saw a very small part of it: Anchorage, Denali, Whittier, Seward, Juneau, Ketchikan, Skagway, Icy Straits Point. But we did have time to take two helicopter flights with Alaska’s biggest helicopter tour operator, Temsco. The scenery and type of flying on these two flights made me realize that I’d really like to fly in Alaska.

So that became my goal for the summer of 2008: to get a seasonal job flying in Alaska.

What I Bring to the Employment Equation

My experience is a bit more substantial than “entry level.” I currently have almost 2000 hours of helicopter flight time, most of which has been built doing real commercial flights — that is, flying for hire. I own and operate my own business, so I have insight into the business that few other pilots have. I know how to deal with clients and passengers. I’m also mature enough to make situation-based decisions without worries of peer pressure. I’d like to think that all this gives me an edge over the recently unemployed, 1000+ hour CFIs who flooded into the workforce with the demise of Silver State Helicopters.

At the same time, I expect to be paid based on my experience and the value I bring to the employer. A company more interested in its bottom line than hiring appropriately experienced pilots would likely go for the entry level applicants. And since a company like that may feel the same way about its mechanics and service personnel, it’s likely a company I wouldn’t want to work for anyway.

My Employment Goals

To understand how I evaluate job opportunities, it’s helpful to understand what my personal goals are in finding an employer.

Unlike most people looking for a pilot job, I’m not desperate for a job. I’d like one very much, but I can afford to be a bit picky. I won’t starve if I don’t get a job. It’s more important to get a good “match” with an employer and the job it offers than to collect a paycheck. (That’s not to say I’ll work for free or less than I’m worth.)

With that in mind, I’ve come up with a list of questions that I need to answer during the evaluation process. If the answer to a question is yes, that’s a point in the job’s favor. If the answer is no, that’s a point against it.

• Will the job teach me a new skill? Some examples of the skills I’d like to build include more advanced off-airport landings (think glaciers and mining camps), sling loading, and long line work.
• Will the job introduce me to new equipment? Most of my flight time is in Robinson R44 and R22 helicopters, with a bunch of Long Ranger time from my 2004 Grand Canyon gig. I’d like to fly different helicopter models to round out my experience.
• Will the job enable me to build turbine time? Building turbine time is the goal of any pilot who wants to make a living as a pilot. The best jobs are the turbine helicopter pilot jobs. Without turbine experience, these good jobs will always be out of reach. I’m interested in building enough turbine time to one day qualify for work in ENG (electronic news gathering) or EMS (emergency medial services) or a tour job in an incredible place (Kauai comes to mind). And since I’m not getting any younger, I really shouldn’t put off this goal any longer than I need to.
• Is the job in a place I could live happily? I’m not talking about living in paradise here. In general, I have very basic needs for living space: clean, fully functional, relatively quiet, private. I need access to the Internet to do my off-duty writing work. And I need to be able to shop for food and other necessities. I’d also like some recreational opportunities in the area, such as biking, hiking, or fishing.
• Does the job pay enough to cover all my living expenses while away from home and enable me to put some money in the bank? Oddly enough, the pay on some helicopter pilot jobs is so low, it only covers basic living expenses. Pilots do these jobs solely to build time. While I could be tempted to take on another low-paying job to build turbine time, the other factors need to weigh in to guide my decision. In any case, the pay needs to be reasonable.

Why I Won’t Be Working in Alaska This Summer

Unfortunately, I won’t be working in Alaska this summer. I made a few bad decisions early on in the hiring season that cut down on my opportunities.

The main bad decision was the one to chase down an extremely interesting opportunity here in the Lower 48. It was a turbine helicopter pilot job flying either a JetRanger or a LongRanger — either of which would be pretty easy for me because of my experience. The work itself was charter work, flying passengers in different cities all over the country. There was an “on the road” component that sounded kind of fun in a weird trucker sort of way.

At first, the job seemed as if it would take up much of my summer — which, if you recall, was the goal. But as time went on, it became apparent that the job would be year-round and, as contract work, would probably only give me about 6 to 8 weeks of work a year. While that certainly would have fit into my schedule, it wasn’t as much work as I wanted or needed to make it worthwhile. Worse yet, there was overlap with the Alaska tour season, so if I took that job, I wouldn’t be able to work in Alaska, too.

By the time I figured this out, It was too late to touch base with most Alaska tour operators. I’d been waiting for job postings, but because there were so many pilots in the job market, no one was posting tour jobs. The pilots were finding employers on their own, without job postings. The employers didn’t need more applicants — they already had far too many.

I did go to Alaska earlier this month for a job interview. The interview went well and I got an offer. But the job simply wasn’t a good match — using the criteria listed above — so I had to turn it down. And now all the other employers are deep in the hiring process. Interviews are over. By waiting to see those job postings, I locked myself out.

There’s an adage about my screw-up: “He who hesitates is lost.” Believe it or not, I already know that. I’ve seen, over and over, how opportunities fade away when you don’t reach out and grab them promptly.

My failure to explore all opportunities promptly is primarily why I don’t have a job this summer. It makes me want to slap myself on the side of the head repeatedly.

Where I Will Be Working this Summer

I still have options for a summer job, using my own helicopter to get the work done. There won’t be any turbine time, although there might be some new skills learned. There will also be a ton of money — I can make a lot more money with my own ship than as an employee for someone else. And money isn’t a bad thing.

I don’t want to jinx any of these opportunities, so I’ll keep them to myself for a while. Rest assured that when I settle down for my summer employment, you can read about it here.

A late afternoon takeoff from the helipad on the west end of Wickenburg Airport’s ramp. On board with me are three wranglers from the local guest ranch — each on their very first helicopter ride. But the shadow steals the show.

I don’t know why, but the audio didn’t come through on Viddler. I may try to upload it again. For now, you’ll have to be satisfied with the video only.

Update: After fiddling around with the original video and compressing it prior to re-upload, I got the sound to work right. Here’s the good version of the video, with sound.