Living on the Edge in Fresnakistan

 They say you don't realize how much you use your phone until you can't use it. That's an understatement. Ever since I departed Sri Lanka on Dec 21st, my phone has turned into a brick. My American SIM card was no longer readable. After going to Verizon on the 23rd, they tried two new SIM cards to no avail. That same day I went to Apple, who gave me a "new" phone. After a few hours of having said device, it dropped the network. Periodically I could get it back, but it would disappear without warning. Oh, and the camera and flashlight didn't work either. But no time to fix all that, I had to go to work. Once in Palm Springs, I found an Apple Store relatively close, but it was Christmas. Closed. Then we were in Oregon. No Apple store. Finally a long day in Fresno. An Apple Store was about 6 miles away in the Fashion Fair Mall. With the earliest appointment being Dec 31, I made it a point to arrive at rope drop.

A line had already formed. I put my name in and was told to come back in an hour. "We'll text you!" said the enthusiastic employee. "I have no way of receiving it," I deadpanned. You see, there are so many things we depend on our smartphones for. How did I get to the mall in the first place? Since I had tried numerous hard resets of my phone, it was in an unusable state. No Uber app. Not even Lyft! I ended up using my laptop to request one, watching the screen to see where the car was, then running downstairs when it was getting close. The store was packed an hour later, unlike this sterile image from the internet.

The store was filled with lots of older folks who didn't know how to use specific programs and the poor employees would be like, "Well . . . you don't have it downloaded, so you'll need to do that first . . ." As the geniuses helped numerous people log into their email or other menial tasks, I explained my numerous issues. "Wow," she said. "Those are three completely unrelated issues." She didn't waste time troubleshooting. She came back with a new phone, but the battery was dead since it was a poor iphone 5 which had probably been sitting there for years feeling neglected.

 As we found a plug and slowly activated the phone and performed all the required updates, it coughed to life. She wanted me to wait and make sure everything synced up properly. Camera, photos, apps, network...everything seemed to be in order. With 30% charge, I set off into this crazy new world where my phone actually worked. I used my maps to locate the Chick-Fil-A. After lunch, I set about getting a ride home.


Unfortunately, I had left the Apple store power source prior to all of my apps installing, so they had been chugging away all through Chick-Fil-A. I did not yet have the Uber app installed completely, and it looked like it would be a while. The free mall wifi wasn't going to cut it. I went to the mobile website which promptly froze on a loading screen despite my numerous efforts to refresh. I watched as the battery continue to work its way down. I felt like Nicole, who is perpetually on 12% charge. I was in danger of being stranded at a mall in Fresno! 10%, 9%. Warnings flashed on the screen as I scrambled to force the download. I walked toward the Apple store for a better wifi connection. 8%. I saw Lyft had finished installing. Good enough. Ride requested. 3 minutes out. I watched the car drive toward me on the screen, then away from me... I walked to intercept him. I saw him turn the corner. I ran to cross the street in front of his car. I waved, and pointed to myself. He drove by again. 6% battery. Eventually he stopped his car to get out and ask someone for directions. I caught up and flagged him down for the third time. Car smelled like an armpit. Technology is wonderful, but even it can't fix Lyft.

Happy Xmas!

 With just one day of recovery after my ambitious journey around the world, I set forth on one of my busiest days of flying ever. If you count my deadhead from LAX to PHX, it was a six leg day. Yuck. I knew it was going to be a stressful day when I had to hunt for parking at the employee lot. The airports were packed with holiday travelers. After quick turns in Tucson and Yuma (flying through a significant storm cell on the way), we flew from Phoenix to Palm Springs for our overnight.

On arrival at the Renaissance Hotel, I was informed I didn't have to sign in like the rest of the crew because my room was already assigned. Hmm...interesting. When I entered, I heard christmas music playing on the radio and saw this fine display of cookies and milk on the desk. Somehow, Nicole had managed to arrange this through the hotel. I sat there staring at it for some time trying to figure out how it got there. I checked the closets, but no Nicole. In any event, I ate them alone in my room with great ceremony.

The fat man with a beard had no chance at getting to those cookies. Maybe that's why I didn't receive a visit from him. Like most people in Palm Springs, I went to a Jewish deli on Christmas. It was packed. Everyone around me was going the traditional route and ordering bagels, lox and capers, or Latkes with applesauce. I went with an omelette and bagel. Praise be to bagels. Challah-lujah. Merry Knish-mas! Hamantaschen New Year! Ok, I'll stop. Matzo been all that food going to my head. May the rest of your holidays be stress free. xoxo

A Rare Set of Wings

First let me caption the random assortment of photos. First is a crew meal while in the jumpseat on a 757 from Newark to Los Angeles (THE JUMPSEAT...FROM NEWARK TO LA). It needed emphasis. Next we have assorted aerial shots of Monument Valley, Meteor Crater, an overly noisy shot of the sunset, and a screenshot from my flight simulator. This is a post with pictures that have nothing to do with the topic because I don't have any pictures addressing the topic at hand: female pilots, or as they should be called. . . pilots, ya sexist bastard. I have been with the airline for almost a year and a half and had not flown with a female captain until last week. The experience with this captain was like any other day of the week. We swapped stories of our nonrev adventures and shared our mandatory complaints about our schedules. But as she and I waited in Colorado Springs for our aircraft to arrive, another lady, perhaps in her mid 40s, approached us and commented on how nice it was to see a female pilot.

She then told us the story of her mom who was a pilot turned FAA examiner, but was turned away by the airlines decades earlier for the simple fact that she was a woman. It's a story that seems to be a general theme from that generation. The first female airline pilot was hired by Frontier in 1973. However, many of these "we don't hire women" stories continued on for years after that date. And if you look around the terminal these days, you would have to wait a while to see a woman in a pilot's uniform. It has gotten better, but fractionally so. Estimates vary, but the number of women in the United States with an ATP (an airline pilot certificate) numbers less than five percent.

That number is pretty staggering considering we live in a supposedly equal society (Spoiler alert: we don't). When that lady in Colorado Springs politely excused herself from the conversation, she looked at me and said, "Thanks for supporting women in aviation." I was literally speechless. I did not know how to respond because all I did was show up for work. It was the least amount of effort I could possibly do. I would like to do more, but I don't even know where to start. When I got home from the trip, I googled, "Why aren't there more female pilots?" and read numerous articles that really didn't have an answer.

There was an article in the USA Today that speculated it was because maternal instincts prevented women from pursuing a career that keeps them away from their family. I am calling pure shenanigans on that statement. One, it isn't based on fact, but when are facts important to Americans, right? I have far more time at home than I did when I had a 9-5 job. Granted it may not be on the weekends or holidays, but let's be honest -- I barely work, and when I do work, I spend the whole time complaining about how they're working us so hard. Yesterday, I flew for 45 minutes and was done. Last month I worked five days in a row and caught myself when I protested, "Five days in a row, who does this?!" Ok, so moot point USA Today, but maybe it's because people just make assumptions and don't do proper journalism. So, all I can conclude is that there aren't more women in aviation because society seems to think they are out of place there or see it as a novelty.

After parking at the gate back at LAX this evening, one of the flight attendants brought a young girl forward. The captain had already walked out to track down a wheelchair for one of the passengers, so I was in the flight deck alone when she shyly walked up. I said, "Have a seat, captain," and gave her a salute. Sidenote: I'm very awkward with children. She sat there for a while with her mouth open in awe and all I could think of saying was, "Lots of buttons, huh?" She just nodded without saying anything. When her parents eventually summoned her, she slowly slid out of the seat, grabbed her stuffed animal, and mustered a quiet, "Thank you" on her way out. One of the flight attendants poked her head in and whispered, "You don't know how much you just made that girl's day." I guess she was sad during the flight because she was too shy to go up to the flight deck while we were boarding earlier.

Now I don't know if this girl, who was maybe four, will grow up with an interest in aviation because of that moment. Realistically, she will want to be a frog next week, but I was kind of moved by the whole thing. It's a tragedy that in 2016, we are looking at 1 in 20 odds that either one of your pilots is a woman. I am determined to figure out why, so I'm channeling vintage Brian. Before I was flyin' Brian, I was filmin' Brian equipped with a camera and some editing software. I plan on making a documentary on this issue and seeing if I can learn anything. As someone who nerds out about airplanes, I cannot see why that young girl from tonight's flight would not consider pushing all those buttons some day.

Helena Montana: The Land That Time Forgot

Here's a quick snap of Missoula, Montana as seen during our climbout yesterday. You can see the "M" I climbed to in the lower left on the side of the mountain. As I've been had multiple Montana overnights this trip, I can start some comparisons. Missoula seemed vibrant, active, and up-and-coming. Then I landed in Helena last night and went for a walk this morning. It has a very different feel. It looked stuck in 1987.

I walked a little over a mile to the capitol building. The homes along the way were not very inviting looking. Rusty chain link fences formed perimeters around the yards. Bicycles and toys littered the yards, unchained without fear of being stolen. The landscape changed for about two or three blocks nearing the capitol, but the rest of the town had a very . . . depressed feel.

Sidenote: Look at the size of that sky! I've been told it's bigger here.


I got stuck behind a train at one point for a few minutes as it kept backing up and rolling forward, hooking up to more cars presumably. I wasn't sure if it was ever going to end. This town is just not very active. For all the time I was waiting there for the train, only two vehicles were waiting at the crossing with me. Montana is in interesting place, though. I picked up a local paper yesterday morning to read on the plane. It said more residents voted for Governor than for the President of the United States. Interesting. Apathy? Disillusioned? Who knows, but I think Helena is one of the two Americas the news keeps talking about, and it's not the one I have been living in.

It's a town that seems to have been forgotten in time. This is a picture from a neighborhood park. I remember playground equipment like this from my youth, but it was all scrapped, deemed hazardous, and replaced with fancier, plastic fortresses with ziplines and bouncy bridges. Not in Helena. And I wouldn't be surprised if some local just carried that slide from their yard over to the park when their kids became too old for it.

Almost a week after the election, I'm learning a little bit about the rest of the country. Infrastructure is definitely something Helena could benefit from, but I could see how a larger city like LA gets first pick since there are more people. I patiently await the day that LAX has a more efficient traffic flow or the ambitious Green Line metro extension, but in the meantime, how much does it cost for a seesaw?

Missoula: Where Everyone Says "Good Mornin'"

While I only had two flights yesterday, they were relatively long -- Boise to Minneapolis and reversing back to Missoula, Montana. For roughly two and a half hours, I weathered another tuna sandwich in the cockpit. Does the captain have a gallon zip-lock bag full of tuna salad? I don't understand. The conversation then turned to politics. Great. And then religion. You know -- normal topics of conversation with someone you barely know. I sat there silently looking out at the Tetons.

I had about an hour or so in MSP before heading to Montana, so I went for a walk down the terminal, looking at the youthful and green gazes of new hires preparing to fly little CRJ-200s to Minot or Duluth. I remember being one of those starry eyed FOs looking at those big shiny CRJ-900s parked at the C-gates and wondering if I'd ever get to fly them out of MSP. The answer was no. I had to get a transfer to LAX in order for this to happen. With a swagger of, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did fly in on that," I grabbed some Chick-Fil-A and returned to the plane. A few hours later, we had touched down in Missoula.

The following morning, I woke up to explore the area. The hotel was very close to the University of Montana, so I explored. There is a switchback trail up to a giant "M" on the hillside, and I was feeling ambitious. There were numerous people out walking. Everyone was very friendly -- greeting me with a, "Good Mornin'!" and a smile. No politics, no tuna. It was a nice change of pace. Breathing somewhat labored, I finally reached the "M." It offered a good view of campus and of the entire town of Missoula. It all seems very quaint. I worked my way back down, which was much easier, and zig-zagged around the campus for a bit before returning to the hotel. I think I earned a trip to Chick-Fil-A once I get back to MSP today.






Today is going to be similar to yesterday in that I go east to come back west -- only overnighting in Helena instead of Missoula. I haven't really spent much time in Montana in my entire life, so this is all interesting to me. With any luck, the air will be smooth and the captain will have run out of tuna by now.

Seasons Exist!

Today I had my first reminder that not every place in America is 75 degrees and sunny. We landed in Boise, Idaho late last night. Unlike my previous overnight here back in March or so, we were put up in a hotel that is more centrally located by downtown. Just as before, I decided to go for a walk along the greenway multi-use trail down by the river. Most of the leaves had already changed color or died, but there were a few stragglers. Part of the path went by Boise State University, home of the fighting potatoes broncos. As a whole, the town seemed relatively quiet for a Saturday.

I continued along the trail until I reached my main destination -- a memorial dedicated to Anne Frank. Given the nature of the past week's events, it just seemed right.
I then zig-zagged through downtown Boise. There was a farmer's market, but it was all very niche. I couldn't think of any need for baking vanilla or candleholders made out of beer bottles. I was hoping for a t-shirt with a giant potato, but I ask for too much. I did walk past a place called Boise Fry Co. which prides itself on making dozens of variations of fries and dipping sauces, but I had a long walk ahead of me and didn't want to have a potty emergency.

I walked by the capital building and then back down to the greenway and the river to the hotel. I made a side trip through the breakfast room which was serving until noon and grabbed myself two more cinnamon rolls for lunch. mMMMmmmm. It is perhaps not the best lunch one could acquire, but it's better than bringing tuna salad into the cockpit. This is the second time in a month a captain has committed this unholiest of all crimes. Is nothing sacred anymore?

Salt Lake for Two

For some reason when building the schedules, the airline ends up creating these very long layovers -- always in Salt Lake, and always saves them for me. Since I had almost an entire day in SLC, I invited Nicole to follow me there from LA. In fact, she rode in the back while I was up front making silly pilot announcements. And when I say Nicole was in the back-- she was in the very back...because it was a Schmamerican Airlines flight. You see, if you are standby on Schmamerican, you will get the worst seat on the plane, even if there are many open seats elsewhere.

The only incentive is that tickets are only $1.58 per flight for Nicole. You get what you pay for I suppose. After showing Nicole the big Mormon church, we discussed our plans for the remainder of the day. We ventured someplace new -- the University of Utah campus! We took an Über there with a middle-aged woman who was very intrigued by the two Californians in her car who claimed to be a TV producer and an airline pilot. We walked through some botanical gardens after arriving at the Utah campus. Like most places like this, it was overpriced, and our timing was not ideal. Most plants and flowers in the gardens were dead. We spent about an hour walking around the gardens and then grabbed some lunch. After this, we took the tram back to downtown Salt Lake for the sum of $2.50, or to look at it another way, almost twice the cost of Nicole's ticket from SLC back to LAX this evening.

Last Day in the Great Plains

It was drizzly today. It was in the 30s pretty much all day, so time outside was limited. As we drove back into South Dakota, we made a stop in Deadwood, the town known for its lawlessness -- now home to tacky tourist shops selling confederate flags and t-shirts with Donald Trump riding a motorcycle. We plugged a meter for 45 minutes, and this was ample to explore the town. As previously mentioned, it was also rather cold, so we didn't feel like lingering too long outside in the elements.

After arriving back in Rapid City and checking in to our hotel, we made a brief stop near Ellsworth AFB to visit the free air & space museum. As it was free, there wasn't a lot to it, but they did have some aircraft parked outside. By now, it felt like the temperature was in the 20s since the wind had really picked up. We went to the movies to get out of the elements for a couple hours. After that we had some fine Italian dining at some place called the Olive Garden. After stepping back outside into the cold, we debated whether we should go check out Mt. Rushmore at night.

This was, after all, an outdoor activity. After a brief discussion, we decided to do it. We were the only ones there and it was almost a little eerie. Snow had started to fall. I attempted to catch some of it in the spotlights as it fell onto the monument when all of a sudden the lights went out. Now we were looking out into a black void. I fiddled with my camera settings to work some magic. Unfortunately the sky was a thick overcast, so the prospect of getting the monument with stars was not in the cards, but I did get this bizarre shot of the monument.

Yes, this was taken at night despite appearing to have been taken during the day. The weird scratchy texture is from the snow streaking over the image during my long exposure. It's lucky we showed up when we did, so we saw it illuminated for a few minutes. And that was that. As we returned to the car and headed back into town, our random trip to South Dakota had drawn to a close.

Off to Wyoming!

We woke up this morning in our cabin in the middle of the Badlands. I did a little research on visiting an old ICBM launch facility and found out tickets were first come first serve, so we drove just outside of the park to get our tickets for the afternoon, and then headed back into the park to do some exploring. We drove west a few miles and stopped of at a few viewpoints and did a couple hikes. It was very nice weather. Clear skies, 70 degrees, light breeze. This would all change drastically later in the day.

After feeling we had adequately explored the Badlands, we drove down a dirt road toward Delta-01, the missile launch facility. We weren't entirely sure if we had reached the facility when Google maps said we had arrived at our destination. It was very unassuming from the outside, which I guess is the point. It looked like an average ranch house, other than the chain link fence going around the area. The ranger showed us around the facility, which they tried to showcase as it would have looked when it closed in 1993 -- a People magazine sitting on an old coffee table with Princess Diana on the cover.

Once we passed the crew facilities, we reached an elevator that descended thirty feet underground to a massive concrete and steel door that separated the control room from the outside world. The crew room was actually suspended in a way so that it could move several feet in either direction if it took a hit from a Soviet missile. The two-man crew who would be stationed inside did not have much in the form of entertainment. They would typically be in here for 24 hours straight. After exiting the facility we drove to an old missile silo, which was several miles down the road. We could just look down some plexiglass into the ground to see the missile (now a dud obviously). Despite more than half of America's nuclear missile arsenal being decommissioned, there are still over 450 missile launch sites in existence around the U.S. -- primarily in states with low populations like North Dakota, Wyoming, etc... On our way out of the visitor's center, there was a guestbook where people were supposed to share their thoughts about the prospects of nuclear war and multiple people had trolled the guestbook with things like, "Build a wall!" "Trump!" Disconcerting stuff if you consider that the order to launch comes directly from the President of the United States.

On our way out of South Dakota, we made a stop in Wall for some gas and continued our journey into Wyoming. After checking in to tiny Hulett, Wyoming (pop: 384), we witnessed the temperature plummet about 30 degrees in about an hour. We brought our jackets with us when we drove 20 mins over to Devil's Tower.  The wind had really kicked up and the unseasonably warm and pleasant weather we had experienced thusfar abruptly ended once the region realized it was, in fact, October.  We did a perimeter walk around the tower that was about a mile and a half.

The weather was beginning to seem actually quite ominous. We drove back into the booming metropolis of Hulett and had dinner at a place called the Ponderosa Cafe. The town is about two blocks long, so we walked there from our hotel. People we had seen at Devil's Tower were also at Ponderosa. We saw them again back at the hotel. It's crazy for me to think that people actually live here -- all 383 of them. Though to be fair, we passed through a town called Aladdin on the way in. There were mile distance signs for a ways, but when we drove through we discovered it had a population of 15 (yes, one five). Welcome to Wyoming.

Wait . . . You're Going Where?

After an uneventful flight up to gloomy Seattle and back, I was overdue for another quick vacation. South Dakota it is! Most people did not readily understand this decision. The Uber driver taking us to LAX was a bit confused. The fact of the matter is, the area around Rapid City has a surprising amount of things to do. Also, the weather elsewhere is not exactly ideal. In what became one of the easiest nonrev trips to date, Nicole and I easily got on a half empty flight to Denver and the regional jet connection to Rapid City. The only issue was food upon our arrival. Everything was closed, so we ended up buying snacks at a gas station and that became our dinner.

The following morning, we drove about 20 minutes into the Black Hills to Mt Rushmore. I can't really think of anything to say about it because it's pretty self-explanatory. It's stone heads of presidents. The fall colors were just barely starting to show themselves. The temperature in the morning was about 40, but within a few hours it would be over 70. Confusing weather. After about an hour at the site, we continued on to Custer State Park. The ranger at the gate pointed out where we should see some bison since they hadn't been "worked" yet. Neither Nicole or I had any idea what this meant.

The bison were all corralled behind fences, so it wasn't some kind of majestic migration across the plains we were hoping for, but we did see plenty of antelope roaming the hills. It was a long, winding drive around the park. Eventually we stopped to get some lunch, where I ordered a buffalo burger. One would assume it would be fresh, but the place overcooked it until it was dry and void of taste. Following our exit from the park, we drove back through Rapid City making a quick stop at Dinosaur Park with very natural-looking green dinosaur sculptures and then hit the road toward Wall.

Perhaps you have heard of Wall Drug before. It is the stuff of western legend. Whether you want to buy a dreamcatcher, some fudge, a new pair of spurs, or some pepto-bismol, Wall Drug is your stop. It's also virtually the only thing in existence between Rapid City and Sioux Falls unless you count the Corn Palace in Mitchell (and who wouldn't). Nicole and I stocked up on merchandise -- t-shirts, bottles of water, a magnet, a christmas ornament, and a donut. The creature you see here is a jackalope, half-antelope, half-jack rabbit. Yep.

After departing Wall with a few sandwiches for dinner later, we entered the Badlands National Park. The sun was working its way down on the horizon and the temperature was actually above 80. We stopped off at an overlook and did a few short hikes as well. It's a really interesting topography to see sprout up out of nowhere in the middle of the prairie. As the sun set, we ate our sandwiches and went back out to try our hand at some star photography. Despite being a long way from the nearest town, it was still a bit bright from the waxing moon in the sky overhead.

This created an interesting effect with shadows showing up in our long exposure shots. It was fair to say that Nicole and I were the only people out and about within the park at this hour. In fact, the lodge that we are staying at inside the park closes next week until May or something like that. It's the quiet season in South Dakota. While it has been a challenge to acquire food, it's nice to get away from the crowds. We don't really have any plans for tomorrow as of yet, so stay tuned for further adventures.

36 Views of the Utah State Capital

As a pilot, one must submit for a medical exam once a year. It's nothing too involved -- checking eyes, ears, stable pulse etc., but you always hear crazy stories about someone going in and losing their medical due to some rare heart condition. As a pilot on the go, it's sometimes difficult to acquire the healthiest food. I've made a lot of fast food runs in airports, but we were so delayed yesterday thanks to a control tower fire alarm in Phoenix, that I didn't eat dinner until arriving in SLC after 1030pm. The captain and I went across the street from the hotel to a sports bar called Legends.

The clientele was what you'd expect to find at a bar in Salt Lake on a Thursday night. Beat-looking, possibly under the influence of illegal substances, and missing a few teeth. I had a southwest burger with peppers and the captain ordered a plate full of tater tots covered in chile verde and cheese. He suggested I try a place down the street tomorrow called Bruges Waffles & Frites. It boasts a sandwich called the machine gun that he described as a baguette with two sausages and french fries covered in sauce. I worry about the captain's medical.

I had an unusual 30 hour layover in Salt Lake City -- a place I have spent so much time in, I feel as though I've seen it all. Since I had so much time, I thought about taking the train to see an airplane museum in Ogden, but the nearest stop was still 3.5 miles away, so I'd still have to get an Uber or something. I didn't feel like doing this planes, trains, and automobiles (quite literally) adventure, so I tried to find some interesting running routes. I found a spot that might offer some good views over the city and the capital, but it would be all uphill.

The picture of the capital above was after a considerable uphill in its own right, but this was child's play compared to what was to come. My run devolved into some sort of spastic ritual of throwing one leg in front of the other as the grade steepened. The capital building which sits on a large hill looking over the city was now below me. The altitude and dryness of the air was starting to take its toll on my endurance, but I had to press on to Ensign Peak, my goal at the top of the hill.

Unknown to me until after I got back, Ensign Peak is apparently significant in Mormon history as the place where Brigham Young looked down at the valley and Salty Lake below him, had a vision, and exclaimed, "Ah ha! This is it! The promised land! Zion! Bring 'em old! Brigham Young! In my vision, I see a meth den and a Dollar General!" I paraphrase, but you get the idea. Back to my run  jog  semi-brisk walk, I was struggling just to negotiate the rocky dirt path leading up to the top.

At long last, I reached the summit, making sure to run the last couple feet just for show. It did have an all-encompassing view of the valley. I could see the airport, Provo, University of Utah, and of course the capital building and downtown area. The sun wasn't in the ideal spot and most buildings were in the their own shadow. Brigham Young must have arrived in the morning. The valley didn't look as picturesque mid-afternoon, but I still took some time to marvel at the elevation gain I had just undergone and enjoy the fact that it was all downhill from here.

To appreciate the distance, here's a picture of the capital from the top. Be impressed, people! Are you not entertained? I drank an entire quart of water after I got back to the hotel. Now to decide on dinner. . . should I go back to Legends for the plate full of tater tots? I mean after that workout, I could probably even feel ok about myself eating that, but the machine gun sandwich crosses a line. Even Brigham Young did not anticipate such a travesty of cuisine unfolding below him.