Ghosts of Airlines Past

I have never considered myself a history buff, but recently I was able to get a glimpse into the past of Scenic Airlines in the form of an abandoned hangar. Located a handful of miles down a dirt road, not far from Grand Canyon Airport lies the remnants of Scenic Airways. Original built in 1927 for the purpose of showing off the grandeur of the Grand Canyon, this old hangar was the gateway to thousands of people in to one of the most visited areas in the American west. For more on the history of this place check out Grand Canyon Airlines History. 

I decided that I was going to check this place out when a coworker told me about it, I had the day off and it seemed like a nice way to spend an hour or two. So I jumped in the truck and headed out. Now, I am not one to scare easily but there is something eerie about being in an abandoned place by your lonesome. There is a certain amount of quiet that seems to quiet until the wind kicks an old door closed and you jump out of your skin! Not that that happened to me of course... Despite any reservations about walking around an old, rusty, quiet hangar I walked all around taking in as much as I could of these standing echoes. From what I could tell its most frequent visitors these days were horses and cows that live in the surrounding fields. It was hard to tell where the runway had been, but I assumed it was the flat grassy area just out in front of the hangar. Anyways, here are the pictures I took!

Truck for scale.

A view from the old runway.

The back half of the hangar.

An old hangar makes for a nice haven for horses.

The original!

I'll Meet You at the Monuments

As many of you know, I have had a number of different jobs over the years. I have met some interesting characters, well traveled folks of all different walks of life, but many of them seem to have something in common. A weirdness (that I probably share with them) to reach out when we cross paths in strange situations. I know it happens to pilots all the time, talking about what aircraft we have flown, what airports we have flown in to and out of, close calls and near misses that gave you a new lease on life.
A few days ago I had the pleasure of landing at Monument Valley airport, at just 42 feet wide, landing towards a cliff wall that rises hundreds of feet in front of you, it doesn't leave much room for error. With such an interesting set of obstacles, the airport doesn't get a lot of use but on the day we landed there were around 15 aircraft parked at the small field! Folks from all across the country were there, some had started out in Ft. Lauderdale, others from South Dakota, and one nice couple who had flown up from Phoenix for the day. But what was really amazing is that all the people were excited to see one more airplane join the group. As I walked around looking at the different planes, every one of the pilots were excited to tell me about where they came from, where they were going, how did I like flying the Twin Otter and how long I had been flying. It was like an impromptu community had sprung up in the desert and I was the newest resident. It is a pretty cool feeling to feel like you fit in somewhere you've never been before.
After some of them took a tour of our airplane, after we had exchanged stories about our flight experience, after talking about where we were and where we wanted to go in life, after a round of handshakes and "nice to meet yous" they jumped in their planes and flew away. Just like that our little community had disbanded and we were a pair of pilots waiting for our passengers to show up to a little strip of asphalt in the middle of the desert.

Some days the cloud are below you.

Sometime you just have to reflect.

And every once in a while you get a rainbow!

At Monument Valley, a large cliff wall is only a couple hundred feet behind me.

A couple Bearhawks!

A 4-legged passenger!

A real beauty.

These two came all the way from Florida!

Nothing Quite Like a Two Lane

Get ready for some pictures not from an airplane! Ok ok, it's only two pictures but these pictures were captured in a moment of spontaneity and uninhibited happiness. I was able to take a quick trip to Phoenix this last weekend and I decided to take a road less traveled to get there. In between Valle Arizona and Flagstaff sits US-180, a winding, twisting two-lane highway in central Arizona that climbs up to over 8,000 feet while careening through field and forest. There is a certain skin prickling calm that comes over me when I'm on a road that is truly fun to drive. It's a feeling I haven't felt in some time, but with the radio turned up loud, no cell service and a PB&J sandwich in the shotgun seat, I found myself in a state of driving euphoria. As the forests whipped by I jokingly thought to myself that I was on the lookout for that damn Sasquatch, lurking just out of sight. I saw a herd of elk, lazily grazing next to the road as the sun set low on the horizon. A sunset filled with blues and purples, a sunset that only the American Southwest could create. (The picture doesn't do it any justice) With the music turned up loud, singing so loud I risked losing my voice, I relished every turn, bump and new view the road had to offer me. Once the sun had finally set and I had turned the music back to a reasonable volume, I was aglow with the joy of driving, a joy I didn't know I had missed until I was reminded by the lonely US-180.

The Lonesome Road.

It was better in person.

More Pictures from an Airplane

Once again, I've let far too much time elapse between posts. So here we go again, hopefully I can be better about posting more regularly. If you don't like pictures from airplanes, you probably won't enjoy the next few posts...

I've been fortunate enough to land a job (with a little help from my friends and family) flying tours over the Grand Canyon. As cool as it is looking at a big hole in the ground, I've been able to fly all around the American Southwest and recently we did a tour over Lake Powell extending all the way out to Monument Valley. The desert is a very strange place, but seeing the desert in relation to Lake Powell is just downright awkward. All that water lapping up against towering rock walls just seems wrong. I don't know how better to describe it... it is just strange.

Sometimes it gets a little rainy.

But most of the time it's sunny.

And here is the famous Horseshoe Bend

Confirmed water on Mars... jk it's Lake Powell.

A little green in the middle of the desert.

This job doesn't suck.

In fact I might call it a Monumental success!

Ok, that was a terrible pun.

It's actually Monument Valley.

And finally a puppy pilot.

Old Places with New(ish) Friends

I like to think that I have aged gracefully into my 27th year of life, that I have waded through the ebbing tides of change and come out a well adjusted individual. But I've noticed that making friends is not as easy as it once was. Whether that's because work gets in the way, or that many of us are at different life stages, or simply because my previous statement of aging gracefully is a lie and I'm already an old curmudgeon. But this last week I had the pleasure of reuniting with an old/new friend who had some time to kill and was willing to spend 12 hours in a truck with me. It was a trip filled with adventures and laughter and new experiences, we watched out for sand packers, snipes and even spent some time Butch Cassidy's personal hot tub.

A run down of the trip.

A good road trip is supposed to be scenic, luckily most of southern Utah is scenic so it was no difficult task to make a solid plan. On this route we were able to see Goblin Valley, Capitol Reef, scenic route 12 to Escalante, Lower Calf Creek Falls, Bryce Canyon, a good stretch of state road 89 that I had never driven before and finally a quick stop at a hot spring on the way back. All in all I would say the trip was a success.

Goblin Valley, an alien landscape.

Goblin sighting.

"That rock looks like an airplane! I'm gonna fly it." -B

 

A cave with a view. 

That's a lot of green for a desert. 

An expert hiker in her element.

Lower Calf Creek Falls, as discovered by Henry Calf... maybe.

Dear Clif Bar Company, please sponsor my adventures.

Olive and America

The American West, a mess of red rocks, juniper trees, buttes and vast expanses. An unforgiving landscape that boasts some of the most popular National Parks in the United States of America. As a bearded American needing to quench my thirst for adventure I decided it was high time I saddled up the hog for a solo journey. I should mention that I recently acquired a new motorcycle, Olive, who is bigger, stronger and faster than my previous one. Two hundred and fifty miles of lonely two lane highways, sprinkled with a couple of twisty canyons, separated me from my destination. So, with red rocks on the brain and the rumbling of my trusty steed beneath me, I set a course south, for adventure, for excitement, for freedom and for the love of America.

I had never been on a long distance ride, this would be a trial run to discover if I was manly enough to endure the rigors of a solo trip. After my first hundred miles I was ecstatic, cruising through scenic landscapes with unbridled views from every direction, I was convinced that I seeing the west the way God intended. The miles melted away and before I knew it, the red sands of Moab were welcoming me to my destination. Arches National Park. After meeting up with a good friend of mine, a Ranger in the park, it was time to go exploring. I would like to give a big shout out to Leslie and Nathaniel for taking me way off the beaten track so I could experience some of the lesser known areas of Arches.

My second evening in Arches, I decided to spend with Olive, cruising every mile of road the park had to offer. Leaning in and out of turns, whizzing by monoliths of stone, coming over hills to a churning sea of red rock frozen in time, never before had I taken in this landscape in such a grand scale. After getting to the end of the road I turned around to make my way back, the sun had just slipped below the horizon in front of me and the full moon had made her appearance behind me. The landscape I had passed before now turned into a shaded tapestry of shifting shadows. What were once lone towers of rock blended in to the stone walls behind them, giving them an unfathomable depth. Only once the sun had fully set and a crisp spring chill had gripped the night air, did I decide to leave the park.

I don't believe thats photos are able do justice to a true human experience, but they are fun to look at. So here are some now, thanks for reading!

Olive, ready to roll out.

Made it to Green River.

"Life, uh... finds a way" -Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park

Leslie and her map skills.

We decided this would be "Moonisota Arch"

Crazy how nature do that...

Olive and the Lasal Mountains. 

That there is an Arch.

End of the road.

AMERICA!

Packed up and heading home.