not a how-to formula

6 months.

I realized at work today that I have been employed as a mechanic for 6 months. When I was in school, that was longer than a semester. Its twice as long as I was in Kenya, and half the amount of time I lived in Anchorage. I worked at the kitchen store in Anchorage for 6 months. All those things seemed to be significant chunks of my life. But when I compare it with the quick breath that has been my time here, it seems so short.

Of course, the majority of my time is spent working in the hangar. The first three months we were working on our major overhaul project: the navajo. After it went on the flight line, we slowly worked through some annuals, as well as events on our active fleet. Even slower than the pace of winter maintenance is my learning curve. Weeks went by where I would complete routine service items, simply because that is all I felt confident doing. Then I would decide to branch out into more interesting projects, and feel like I was wasting everyone else's time asking them questions. But slowly, ever so slowly, I have started to feel like I know what I am doing. Not that I am an expert, but a bit of confidence is dawning. It took 6 months. I am sure in another 6 months I will look back on this point and see how much more I understand. It's a process, and it comes to everyone in different amounts of time.

I still make lots of mistakes, and I am sure there are plenty more for me to make. I'm terribly slow. I drop tools all the time (especially when someone warns me against dropping them in that particular location). You should see the mess I make whenever I try to change the oil.

I am looking forward to what the next 6 months holds.

the on-demand lifestyle

A week ago, I was washing dishes and just chilling at home. As there are few dishwashers out here, its a process done by hand. The phone rang, which isn't entirely usual. I washed the soap off my hands and reached for the phone.

"Hey, Liz? If you hurry, you can fly down to Nondolton and back with Glen," the dispatcher told me.
"Uh, sounds good!" I respond. I turn off the water, grab my headset, and head out the door.

We head to the other runway and help unload the three passengers staying here, fuel up, and load up. We have one passenger to drop off, as well as a bunch of groceries for 3 or so different people. We will also be switching from the Bonanza to the 207. We leave a plane stationed there with our pilot who lives there.

When we get close (about 5 minutes after taking off) Glen calls on the local frequency, indicating landing time, groceries, and a passenger.

As we fly close to the airport environment, I can see the ripples on the water, indicating a strong northwind. I feel it too. Usually we land straight in at Nondolton, but the sun is low on the horizon, so a straight in landing would mean we wouldn't be able to see a thing. So we circle around and land back toward the east. When we land, several people are waiting for their groceries, as well as the pilot with wing covers for the bonanza.

Unloading was a fairly painless process, as we piled groceries in seperate piles. Everything going to Nondolton has bright yellow stickers on it with their names scribbled on in sharpie. After we got all the groceries off, we helped cover the plane and load up in the 207.

I crawled in the left seat, and Glen watched from the right. Take off was a little squirrely with a strong, slightly gusty left crosswind. He didn't have a headset on, so he shouted instructions into my right ear, and I tried to make radio calls and listen to the world outside the airplane in my left ear.

We arrived back in PA, tied the airplane to whatever we could, and headed home. All in all, the episode took about an hour, and I logged .2 in my logbook. While its not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, I didn't have to pay for that flight time. I am looking forward to more adventures of the same nature.

Float plane annuals

My company has 3 float planes, 2 206s, and a 180/185 cross breed. The operate part 91 (different rules than the other airplanes, less intense maintenance requirements) so during the busy summer, the often get the bare minimum so we can focus on the part 135 planes. So now that it is winter, we work through more thorough inspections, fix the problems that we discovered over the summer (instead of just preventing symptoms) and take extra time to show them some TLC.

The 180/185 was first in. We changed the struts this summer, but put on a loaner pair since we hadn't bought our own yet. They got painted, and then we realized that they weren't the same strut. The length was teh same, they were just a much wider, beefier, strut. So instead of wasting 1500 dollars worth of new parts, we called the FAA up to ask for approval to put them on. The inspector agreed, and we attached the new struts. We also re-painted the leading edges of the wings, and the front spreader bar. It wasn't to the point that the airworthiness was in question, but it prevents it from getting to that point. Plus passengers feel much more secure in a plane that looks pretty, regardless of its actual airworthiness.

Before we pushed that one out, we brought in the next one, a 206. Major projects on this one included a leaking fuel tank, and replacing seat rails, plus a couple spots that needed sheet metal work. I ended up working on the seat rails, and discovered the rollers on the seats were also really worn out.

The last one to come in needs the floats changed. I wasn't around when the issue happened this summer, but from what I hear, running a float plane up the shore tends to poke holes in the floats. I am looking forward to that project! We are waiting until its a little warmer outside, so planes don't need stored inside overnight.

The float planes are keeping us busy, but work is still slow. I am looking forward to this summer when it will be a bit more fast paced.

time change

Who's brilliant idea was daylight savings time? Losing an hour of sleep was not awesome. Its made this week pretty rough, getting up at a time that my body feels is an hour earlier than normal.

It's just surreal to watch the sun set after 8, and not be really dark till after 9. It certainly gives more daylight to enjoy the evenings.

I enjoy watching the sunrise in the morning, and occasionally will get up early on Saturday to watch the sunrise with multiple large cups of coffee.

Benjamin Franklin, I am unsure of whether to curse you or thank you.

80 degrees of teperature change

Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of my trip was the warm sunshine. When I pulled into the Anchorage airport at around 11:30 PM, the welcome sign indicated an outside air temperature of 7 degrees. Better than the -20 registered at home.

The first stop on my trip was Seattle. I had a really quick layover there. So quick that I basically walked off one airplane and on to the other. As I boarded, I could feel the cool damp Seattle air. There were piles of mostly melted snow from their weird winter weather as we taxiied for the runway.

Even though I slept through both flights, I found this detail interesting. The flight from Anchorage to Seattle is 4 hours, while only 3 hours from Seattle to San Diego. Not only is Alaska really big, its really far away. This detail baffled acquaintances throughout my trip, and contributed to the "hardcore Alaskan mountain woman" reputation I gained.

When we landed in sunny San Diego, I was in heaven. It was around 60 degrees, not too hot to melt, but warm enough that I could remove layers and soak up some sunshine. I managed to get sunburned twice during the week, but both times faded into a tan. I remember looking in the mirror and being surprised at how nice I looked, even before makeup. I realized it was mostly to do with the fact that I wasn't the ghastly pale Alaskan that I am used to seeing.

On the day I left, the weather couldn't have been more beautiful. I kept asking myself why in the world I was getting on an airplane and leaving. Especially after I read the weather observation from home. -15. I did what I could to enjoy the last rays of warmth before we ascended into the subzero temperatures of 757 appropriate cruising altitudes. I'm pretty sure I moped all the way to Seattle, my entire layover while observing the gray drizzle, and the entire flight into Anchorage. I was redeemed some the next day by sunshine, but it was not warm. I could feel any color I had gained during the week being sucked out as I covered every inch of skin with layers. As much as I want to absorb some more rays, I realized that frostbite isn't worth it.

Sunny San Diego, I will admit it. I am smitten with you.

signs that you work for a 135

(refer to post on 7/22/2010 for longer definition of a 135)

135 refers to the rules under which my company operates. Its a little different than your typical airline, both in size of aircraft and nature of operations. Here's a quick, basic, generalized definition: 135 refers to on demand operations, while 121 refers to airliner operations with scheduled routes.

So as I embarked on a trip to the lower 48, I realized several little things that I wasn't used to, even though I am on and off "commercial" airplanes a lot.

1. While I had to make certain my suitcase was under 50 pounds, I did not have to weigh myself for the flight.
2. There are some things that I can't take with me as a carry-on.
3. My stuff won't be within arms reach in the event of a stop somewhere.
4. Security? I have to go through security?
5. Its still a thing that you have to take your shoes off, right?
6. What do you mean I can't sit up front with the pilot?
7. I probably won't know anyone on the flight. Nor will I be familiar with their family that regularly flies with that particular air carrier.
8. Right, I don't work for these guys.
9. Oh I guess I actually have to turn off my cell phone...

Eventually, I got over the differences. But it was a good start to my "tropical" getaway!

thirst for adventure

I have been feeling restless. The excitement of a new job has melted into day to day life. The people I see, the food I make, the home I keep, have all turned into something, well, uninspiring. Is it the curse of winter? Maybe. Could my busy schedule have something to do with it? Probably.

Would an epic adventure solve all my problems? Likely not. Sure, it would temporarily quench my thirst for adventure. Depending on the adventure, it could make me content to be in PA for a good long while. But it wouldn't rid me of the restlessness permanently.

I have decided on two solutions.

One: Get some sunshine. How? A weeklong trip to California should do the trick. Even if it is rainy and muggy most of time, I think it will be a good 40 degrees warmer than I am used to, and the moisture will do my dried out Alaskan winter skin some good.

Two: exercise my imagination. I used to fabricate the most incredible creatures from a simple inanimate object. I could apply this attitude toward work, chores, and fun. I shouldn't have to go somewhere to find an adventure, I should be able to create it wherever my imagination goes.