RANCHO DRONE-O

  Above is Abbie stalking a gopher. I don't mind that she is using her stalking skills but a better application of her talents is to stalk coons and rabbits.

                                          Here's the hungry hen horde in full pecking array.

To the left is the drone-meister himself fiddling with his control unit and trying to figure out the complexities of flying a drone. Notice that he is in deep thought and is applying himself with great effort to make the stupid thing take a picture.

To the right is the official "drone throne". It will
have to do until the...um...convenience-oriented...drone pilot can fetch one of his gig stools from the barn.

This is the Coop de Ville with Dumbo, the trailer, next to Toyo, the Camry. Shot from the drone.

Ladies and Gentlemen......the drone. She's a little cruiser that takes a mighty fine picture. The table is a work table that has been newly re-purposed as a drone-platz. The little firefly weighs less than a half pound so it doesn't have to be registered with the FAA.

Did you ever want to spy on your neighbors? Me neither. But, when you're out taking your drone for a walk, you may as well see what it'll do (looking Northeast).

To the right, is the area directly across the street from us (looking south).









Below is a shot of the rear of Rancho Relaxo (looking south).
You, no doubt, have always wanted see our rear.

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To the right is another shot across the street but looking more toward the southeast. The main street is Highway 190 which leads to Springville (3 miles).

Well…it’s February! Doesn’t that just make you want to pick a peck of pickled peppers? Where does the time fly to when it’s in such a hurry?!

Things are moving along here at the rancho. We stay about as busy as a long-tailed cat in room full of rocking chairs. That’s not a complaint. Lots of folks don’t get to move around that much so we’re thankful to be able to do so.

The weather has been almost wintery. It tried but then it looks like it has given up on the matter. It’s already springy and we’re not even close to being prepared for that event.

No ham: you know it’s busy around here when the ol’ hamster hasn’t had an opportunity to work with his ham radio station. There is a really nice “Slinky” dipole antenna that needs to be finished and tweaked but there isn’t a priority to work on it yet. It shouldn’t take but about an hour or so. Maybe I can get to it soon.

Having time to finish setting up my radios for digital communications is also sitting on the shelf. The chips to pair the rigs with the sound card/modem are on the shelf, too. But there’s no way to get to it for now.

Up in the air: to be able to fly my drone legally, a recent “biannual flight review” is required. Every two years, pilots are required to fly with a CFI/instructor for an hour or so and do about an hour’s ground school instruction. It’s not a “pass or fail” test as such. It’s just a refresher of sorts so that pilots don’t try to fly with a brain full of rust.

So, the Ol’ Fokker lover called a CFI friend and scheduled a flight. Lots of things to talk about here. One is that I haven’t flown in 5 years. The highest I’ve been is near the top of a ten foot ladder (and it was day VFR at that). And, Rancho Relaxo doesn’t have any flight sims with which to stay proficient, either. So, Ol’ Rusty Ran had to focus (“Must focus!”, as Mr. Miyagi says).

Another thing is that the only airplane for rent within 50-75 miles was a Cessna 150 (an airplane that I swore I’d never purposely fly again so that it wouldn't have the opportunity to try to kill me). I’ve flown many hours in a “buck and a half” Cessna and thought that I had transitioned over to real airplanes (though I’m still having doubts about how to categorize the Cessna 172 mush-through-the-air wagon). With the exception of when I weighed 160 lbs and flying solo (try 1966), I couldn’t help but note (on no few occasions, in no few locations, and in no few of them including the 152) that they hate to fly and hate to climb even more!

Well, now I weigh in at close to 220lbs. To save weight, I wanted to fly in my bed pants and T-shirt since I’d be much lighter but Connie nixed that straightaway. I’m not sure why since no one would be laughing at her. Maybe she wanted to spare me the ridicule (bless her heart).  

And, the instructor was about my size. Do the math on that. Stuff in (38" cabin width) an overweight, middle-aged (OK, old), white dude, and another guy just like him for an instructor, and you have a pretty hefty load for a 100 hp pink-fundament hauler. 

Oh…that’s not including gas…gas is our friend. We need gas. The “Cessna One Thrifty” only holds 24 gallons of fuel (22 gallons usable) so that’s 144 lbs of fuel. The ship (depending upon the model) will only tote around 550 lbs into the sky. That leaves us at about 406 lbs of useful load (accounting for 144 lbs of fuel). You can see that, if we aren’t paying attention, we may have to leave some fuel (or one behind) behind. Otherwise, taking off with three cups of gas in the tank just  isn’t a comforting thought at all.

Thankfully, Lennard (sic), the instructor, knew that he wasn’t going to be flying with a lightweight so he didn’t top off the tanks. We had about ten gallons of fuel (this old dipstick used a dipstick to check) so that would give us more than an hour of flying time and a healthy reserve in case we wanted to shoot a an extra touch-and-go (which we did).

This is where things start to get…interesting. We did the walk-around pre-flight check, strapped in, fired up the Continental O-200, and, after all the steam gauges were in the green, taxied out to the active runway (which is “30” at Hooterville International Aerodrome). After the run-up mag check, and a radio call to announce our intentions, the little metal birdie was lined up on the center line of our (wonderful) 150’ wide runway (though it does make you feel rather small especially when you’re sitting in tiny SPAM can). The throttle was fully advanced and away we went with the wheels coming off the ground in a rather short distance.

What blew me away is that the bloody thing actually started climbing without my having to beg it or spur it to do so! I was almost stunned! I hadn’t seen a 150 climb like that since flying solo and with half tanks (53 years ago!)! Then, it dawned on my rusty noggin’ why. It was a really cool 50 degree day so the air was“thick” and “healthy”. Cool air is dense air and planes love dense air (and their engines do too). I couldn’t get over it! I told Lennard how happy I was that we didn’t have to take all day to gain altitude! He grinned and agreed that cool air was…cool.

After an hour or so of playing around with steep turns, stalls, slow-flight, and such, we headed back to the flugplatz for a couple of touch-and-go landings. Lo and behold; the landings were acceptable and nothing was bent or broken! It won’t take much practice and I’ll have my “greaser” landings back.

We taxied back to the hangar, parked the bird, and Lennard signed me off; I’m good to go. And, in addition to be "drone ready", as soon as the FAA sends my medical certificate (which should be soon), I will be ready to fly solo and carry passengers as PIC (pilot in command). Should be fun!

Droning away: the new drone is officially part of the family now. It gets its exercise once per day and then is caringly carted back in out of the elements like it was a princess or something.

The other day (when lots of things happen around here), it was finally hauled outside for its maiden flight. The ol’ Drone-ster had to wait for the weather to clear, enough time, and a good mood to strike, so the inauguration flight could be conducted. The basic instructions were reviewed, the batteries checked, and with all parts and pieces in place, the props were armed. The little buzzer fired right up and was itching to show me its stuff.

A push of the “auto-hover” button shot the little bumbly bee up in the air about 8’ or so. She sat still and awaited my next brilliant command. The “up” lever was eased forward and the new bird blitzed strait up like it was part rocket! Geeez! Talk about sensitive! It was immediately noticed that the ol’ ham-handed tractor driver is going to need to use a bit more finesse.

I’m (sort of) catching on, though. It’s a frisky little critter, to be sure so it’s a handful for lil’ ol’ not-so-frisky me. I’m trying not to be overly critical of myself and try to remember that roller skating took a while to become proficient at, too (i.e. without needing time to heal whatever body part that took a beating at the rink).

Certifiable: Hey! Hey! Hey! I’m certified as a drone pilot! I can now do more than practice! All of the hoops have been jumped through and the paperwork is all out of the way. To quote my old pal, Jackie Gleason: “And, awaaaaaaaay we go!” (wasn’t that in ’66?).

I can’t even express how delighted I am that I didn’t have to slog through all of the requirements for the Part 107 SAUS pilot’s certification. With a valid airman’s certificate in my wallet, the only requirement (after the initial Part 107 exam) was the biannual flight review and to produce the “special ID” to prove who I am. That wasn’t difficult given the fact that I’ve known the instructor since 1967 (but, to follow the rules, I provided the ID anyway and he signed me off). He worked for the FBO and designated flight examiner who gave me my check ride (June '68). That and he checked me out in a couple of other birds about 7 years or so ago.

The next day after the biannual review, I contacted the nice real estate agent that I had originally spoken with about drones. She was delighted and enthusiastic that I had called and is going to be advising others in her agency. That’ll work! “Ol’ Ran the drone slinger, at your service, ma’am”.

It dawned on me (and it should have dawned quite some time ago) that I’ll need to create a business card for the drone biz. So, if I can get my brain on board with the matter, I’ll work up something reasonably professional. All of the software to do so is on hand along with lots of card stock. There’s also three HP Officejet Pro and two HP Photosmart printers all loaded and ready to rock.

Hentopia: our girls are magnificent! Even though it’s winter time, they are producing eggs without missing a beat! We’re almost getting too many eggs! Contrast that to the season where we had more than 40 birds but were only getting about 2 dozen eggs per day! They were molting and what all and just weren’t laying. We thought that they had gone strike! Keep up the good work, girls!

Princess Pooch Palace: our perky puppy hasn’t had to suffer at all this winter. She’s a short haired dog so she doesn’t take to really cold temps (unlike Maggie who eschewed dog houses like they were inhabited by lions). Every winter, a flameless oil heater is used to keep her pooch hooch warm. She loves it! It gets unplugged in the mornings when I go out to turn the Cackle Posse loose. By that time, Abbie is awake and ready to ride herd on the birds.

Honda Rancher ATV: the Honda 250 ATV has been sidelined until I could get my wrench on it. The Honda Shop in Visalia wanted 200 bucks to install a fuel petcock. I found that to be a tad spendy since the part is only 10 dollars and I’m guessing that the time involved is only about 45 minutes. Reckon someone raised their rent.

 So, ol’ thrifty Ran had to order a new petcock gas valve and will now wade into the project. It’s not all that difficult but it does take time (and that’s a scarce commodity around here).

The little cart is a great help because I can get so much done in much less time and with much less effort. It’ll be great to hear its engine purr again.

Update: The petcock just came in the mail (the dealer was going to charge me about 100 dollars for it) and I just installed the thing myself in about 30 minutes (the shop was going to charge close to 100 dollars for labor). The Honda runs just fine now and the savings was about 190 bucks!

There you have it: another short episode of the long happenings at Rancho Relaxo, home of Rancho Ran, the world's foremost authority (the previous one died) and Connie the Canner, world's greatest side-cook: where the air smells like freshly-baked cookies and 2 cycle motor oil: where things can get...interesting, and where...you just never know.