I've been away from this endeavor for 18 months. It's time to get back to work.
After upgrading to captain at UPS and experiencing a contract between the union which represented the pilots of UPS and the company, that finally got our income in the range of what airline pilots are supposed to earn, the biggest struggles of my career had been conquered. It was now time to begin enjoying my success.
At the time that I upgraded to captain on the 757/767, my favorite activities were skiing and hiking. I tried to bid for trips that had weekend layovers in western cities, where I could go skiing in the winter and hiking/camping in the summer. There were some memorable episodes.
When I got my bid award and saw who I would be flying with, I would call them and explain my plans, asking if they cared to join me. There were some with whom I had already flown and some who I did not know. It is amazing to me that so many of them could be so easily talked into these adventures. Many were repeaters and joined me for both hiking and skiing expeditions.
One guy who did that was Glenn Gorton. Our first such weekend was in Portland. We decided to rent a car and drive up the Columbia River to the Columbia Gorge, then turn south to climb the northern slope of Mount Hood. As we drove toward the snow capped peak, we passed several farm markets. We stopped at one and bought some local apples.
We were planning to drive to Timberline Lodge and hike from there. I first learned of the lodge when I was flying for Pacific Express. It was used for exterior shots in the movie The Shining.
At first the weather was excellent, but as we climbed around the eastern side of the mountain, it started becoming cloudy. As we neared the lodge, we were in the clouds and it was raining. We parked and went into the lodge to explore a little. It was nothing like the interior scenes of the fictional Overlook Lodge, where Jack Nicholson went nuts in The Shining.
The movie was based on a Steven King movie of the same name. King received his inspiration from a visit to the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado and his recovery from alcoholism. Doreen and I visited The Stanley with her sister. It was built by Freelan Oscar Stanley, inventor of the Stanley Steamer. This hotel is in the middle of town and its location is nothing like the remote Timberline Lodge.
Glenn and I decided the weather was too wet for hiking, so we drove down the western slope of the mountain, toward Portland. Eventually, we dropped out of the base of the clouds and the rain stopped. We began looking for a hiking trailhead, found one and did a quick hike. It was not especially memorable, except that Glenn walked much faster than I did.
Glenn and I drove to Snow Summit Ski Resort near Big Bear Lake, east of Los Angeles. Glenn had never downhill skied before, so I had a chance to practice my ski instructor skills. We went to the bunny slope first, but were not making much progress. It was too crowded with little snow bunnies and was not steep enough to get enough speed to learn how to use edges to turn.
Standing next to Glenn, I pointed to the top of the mountain and said, "We are going up there". Glenn said, "WHAT?!" I said, "Don't worry, I have a plan". I explained that there was a green slope that traversed the slope and was not steep, good for learning. Glenn looked like a man going to the gallows as we got on the ski lift. He looked even worse when he looked down the mountain from the top.
I taught him how to snow plow and then I taught him how to fall - up the mountain, not down if avoidable. Then, of course, I had to teach him how to get back up. These were all activities at which I had vast experience and was a polished expert. Then we discussed and demonstrated going from a snow plow to getting the skis parallel. This was a little more challenging, because Glenn had a forty year old body, had never done this before, had a job and a family and was smart enough to know he could be hurt. He had to become accustomed to the feel of the speed and gain confidence in his ability to turn. As you may recall, I learned to ski late in life and had gone through all this myself. Kids learn this sport very quickly, because all of the above is not true for them.
We kept plugging away at it, both being patient with the other. I would ski down several yards, demonstrating and talking about what I was doing. Then I would stop and tell Glenn to try it. He fell a lot, at first, but began to show slow improvement. By the end of the night, he was able to find a way down the mountain and had caught the bug. Many years later, he is going skiing on his own or with his son and is often bugging me to go with them.
One summer, I had a bid period with my pal, Alan Hanaoka. Al was from Honolulu and we always had fun flying together. Every one of our weekend layovers was on Ontario California. We did a big mountain hike on each one. We hiked the North Fork of the Santa Ana River Trail toward the summit of Mount San Gorgonio. We did not have time to do the entire 11 miles to the 11,500 foot summit, but did get to Dollar Lake at nearly 10,000 feet before we turned back. On another hike, I made the mistake of choosing a mountain with less elevation. The problem was that it was summer and we did not have enough water. We used all of our water getting to the summit and on the way down, we began feeling the effects of dehydration. After dragging our sorry butts back to the car, we raced down the winding mountain road, until we got to a convenience store, where we each bought a few gallons of sports drinks, etc. and laughed our asses off.
I hiked from Donner Summit in Northern California with a guy named Jerry, whose last name I can't remember. We went south on the Pacific Crest Trail toward Squaw Valley Ski Resort. Jerry was another guy who hiked much faster than I did. No biggie. Everyone hiked faster than I did.
One of my solo hikes was on the Vivian Falls Trail to the San Gorgonio summit. It was another late start, so I intended to camp on the mountain. When I got to High Camp at 10,000 feet, I encountered a mountain face that was covered with deep snow. It was still a little early in the hiking season. I was not prepared or trained to deal with such conditions and it was getting late, so I camped there by myself. While still short of the camp, a couple young guys passed me and said they were going to camp at High Camp. However, just before I got there, the guys passed me on the way down. One of them had begun to feel the effects of mountain sickness. Sometimes, being able to hike fast up these high mountains is not a good thing. Going a little slower allows more time to adjust to the thin air.
I had a few camper meals and prepared a dinner after I set up the tent. I looked for a tree from which to hang my other food. this was bear and cougar country. After dinner a guy came down the trail out of the snow. He was wearing those clunky boots mountain climbers use with their crampons, those spiky things that allow them to climb in icy conditions.
As it became dark and I was finally alone, next to the creek, I began to hear every noise in the woods. My imagination ran wild and I did not get much sleep. I was worried about whether I had selected a good tree to hang from and had I gotten it high enough and far away enough from the tree trunk. Or, did I do a good job, which frustrated the wild animals which then decided to pay me a visit? When I began to see first light, I got outside, retrieved my unmolested food bag and checked out my breakfast. Oops. I thought it was one of those ones that you just added hot water to, but it was some egg goo, that was supposed to be cooked in a skillet. I didn't want to do that, so I boiled some water, poured it in the package and ate that slop, just to have enough calories for the hike down the trail. Every one of these adventures is a learning experience.
Another solo trip was to ski at Snow Summit. It was a great day, I had as much fun as you can have my yourself. As I got into my rental and turned on the radio, I learned that Dale Earnhardt had been killed at the Daytona 500.
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