Flight Training - April 2013 - 21

FLYING CARPET

By Greg Brown

PLUS View the slideshow.

HISTORIC JEROME, Arizona, on Mingus
Mountain between Flagstaff and Wickenburg.

LEND ME AN EAR

ROMANTIC FLYAWAY TURNS QUIET

M

GENE SCHILDMEIER

usic ranks close behind food, clothing, and shelter among
things humans most value. So when a pair of favorite
country and bluegrass performers scheduled a concert
within Flying Carpet range, I booked tickets two months
in advance. The performance would take place in Wickenburg, 60
miles northwest of Phoenix. The small desert town is renowned
for its Old West character and would offer warm respite from
Flagstaff’s cold mountain winter. Sensing the opportunity for a
romantic “flyaway,” I reserved rooms at Rancho de los Caballeros,
one of Wickenburg’s historic dude ranches.
The next morning I encountered friends
Julie and Bob Millis at the Flagstaff
Airport. “Where’s your airplane?” I asked,
noting their empty hangar.
“That’s an odd story,” said Julie. “Last
weekend Bob and I flew to Wickenburg,
where we often vacation during the winter. After parking we learned they were
repaving the airport ramp, and that our
plane would be moved during the process.
But they apparently decided at the last
moment to close and repave the runway,
too. So we had to leave the plane. Bob’s
driving me back next weekend to get it.”
Intrigued at our mutual connection to
the tiny town, I discovered the Millises
would be there during our musical mis-

sion, so we planned a preconcert dinner.
Shortly thereafter I flew Julie to Wickenburg to retrieve her airplane, saving Bob
the five-hour round-trip drive. “See you
back here in a few weeks!” said Julie.
Prepaying for the concert and lodging had its disadvantages. Even as the
weather shaped up nicely for our getaway,
I acquired a nasty cold. “Surely you’ll be
well by next weekend,” said Jean, hopefully. Fortunately I indeed felt better by
departure day. Despite bitter cold and the
need to shovel snow from the hangar, my
head had seemingly cleared and I suffered
only a runny nose.
Launching on a crystalline Saturday
morning, we skimmed snow-frosted pin-

nacles of the Red Rock Secret Mountain
Wilderness, photographed the old Mingus
Mountain mining town of Jerome, and
threaded the Bradshaw Mountains south
of Prescott. Just 50 minutes later, we
descended into the warm Sonoran Desert.
Wickenburg Municipal Airport lies at
2,400 feet, my lowest elevation since dropping Julie there weeks earlier. Our friends
greeted us at the tiny territorial-style
terminal.
“How was your flight?” asked Julie.
“Spectacular!” I replied. The only nuisance was my newly plugged right ear, not
particularly surprising when landing 4,600
feet lower than our takeoff airport. Surely
it would clear in a few minutes.
Bob and Julie dropped us at Los Caballeros. The buildings were utilitarian, but
the resort’s desert landscaping, colorful
furnishings, and Western décor proved
unique and welcoming. Hand in hand,
Jean and I wandered the grounds, pausing to pet horses at the ranch corral. This
was indeed romantic, as verified by Jean’s
glowing smile. My ear, however, remained
plugged. I hoped it would clear by dinner.
We met the Millises that evening in the
resort dining room. Over wine and good
food, we learned more about our friends—
of our common Illinois childhood roots,
and how Bob’s physics degree had led to
an astronomy career culminating in directorship of Flagstaff’s acclaimed Lowell
Observatory, where Pluto was discovered.
Julie detailed her teaching career, and
described how an Alaska sightseeing flight
had inspired her to become a pilot at age
61 and earn her instrument rating at 67.
Julie is especially fortunate to enjoy a
supportive and participating nonpilot
spouse. Together they fly the Southwest
in their Cessna 172.

APRIL 2013 FLIGHT TRAINING

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