Lake Oswego woman turns hobby into air taxi business
Jane Rosevelt wanted to avoid L.A. traffic jams, so she became a pilot and now saves others from congestion

from Lake Oswego (Oregon) Review, March 26, 1998

     Jane Rosevelt remembers sitting in traffic jams as a Los Angeles resident in the late '80s, thinking how nice it would be to be able to fly over the clogged ribbons of pavement and avoid the headaches.
    Now, less than a decade later, she's not only flying over the jammed highways, she's offering to escort others through the airways.
    Rosevelt, a Lake Oswego resident since 1990, operates Rose Air Taxi Service, a charter carrier business which takes as many as three customers at a time to and from destinations throughout the Northwest.
    Want to go to Ashland? In 90 minutes, you can be there. Have a business meeting in Bend? It's an hour away. Or how about heading to the the San Juan Islands? You're there in 90 minutes.
    Rosevelt says it's fast, economical and fun, without the headaches of traffic jams.
    "When I was in L.A., I remember sitting on those congested freeways. I sat there thinking about flying as a way out," said Rosevelt.

Photo by Hal Roth

     "My partner gave me a Christmas present of a flying lesson the Christmas of 1989, right before we moved up here," she added. And that was all it took to get Rosevelt into a cockpit for life.
    "I got my license in September 1990, and I just kept getting more ratings. I guess I got bitten by the bug," she said. After receiving her private pilot rating in 1990, she got her instrument rating in March 1991, purchased a Cessna Turbo Skylane a month later, and went on to get her commercial rating that same year. She earned her instructor's rating in 1992, capping a three-year flight from first-time pilot into instructor and commercial pilot.
    "I did teach a little (flying), but that wasn't for me," said Rosevelt. "I liked taking people places." That's why she went after her "air carrier certificate," enabling her to become an "air taxi operator."
    Her plane hanger is at Hillsboro Airport, but she said that beats the congestion and lack of parking at Portland International Airport. Plus, she said, customers can park their car in her hanger, out of the elements, while away.
    She does like to have two weeks' notice of flight reservations, "but sometimes I can go on a moment's notice," she said. It depends largely on her work schedule and personal obligations.
    Rosevelt said she can stay in a destination city for a short time if someone is going to a meeting and will be ready for a return trip in a matter of hours. Or, she can fly a passenger to a destination, then return another day to pick the person up.

Vacation begins with convenient flight north

by Marili Reilly, Freshwater News, September 1999 

    After weeks of anticipation, we found ourselves only days away from our first overnight sail down the Washington coast. Our friends, Mike and Delphi Godsil, had called on a Wednesday evening to let us know that their trusty sloop Trig would soon be ready to take on crew.
    Although the usual vagaries of the weather had kept our departure date an uncertainty until the last minute, they anticipated arriving in Port Angeles to meet us as early as Friday. The extended forecast looked favorable for the trip south.

Photo by Hal Roth

    The prospect of the one-way cruise had prompted us to check into as many modes of transportation as we could think of so we wouldn't have to make an extra three-hour drive a week later to retrieve a car.
    Amtrak and Greyhound could get us to Seattle, but required a transfer to Olympic Bus Lines. Olympic provides twice daily service from Seattle to a number of towns on the Olympic Peninsula, but connections required up to three-hour layovers.
    Each of these modes also required advance reservations, and the lateness of our decision had already narrowed our choices of departure times. In the end, however, it was our wish for a close marriage between our own Thursday work schedules and Trig's arrival in Port Angeles on Friday, that made us seek more expedient transportation.
    To me, the best solution had been obvious throughout our planning, for I have recently come to know the owner and pilot of Rose Air through my Toastmasters club.
    Jane Rosevelt had regaled us during club speeches with her career change from nursing to flying, and her story had fueled my own dreams of entrepreneurial independence.
    A closet flying enthusiast myself, I was eager to experience something smaller than the usual jet, and checked with her about our needs. Her schedule was open on our possible departure dates, and she graciously offered to meet us at Pearson Airpark in Vancouver so we could avoid the more lengthy drive to her home base in Hillsboro.
    The one-hour flight, which she bills by the length of time the plane is chartered rather than on a per-person basis, looked sufficiently thrifty when compared to the rigid schedules and time-consuming trips via overland modes.
    Rose Air also beat out commercial flights from the Portland airport, any of which would have required an early arrival at the gate and the usual airport parking hassles.
    They say that getting there is half the fun, and as much as we were looking forward to our coastal sail, getting to Port Angeles aboard "Six Echo Romeo" supported the adage.
    The day was reasonably clear with a light wind and some clouds to the east, and Dave and I were soon acclimated to the motion of the Cessna Turbo Skylane. Through headphones, we could listen to the pilot's communications with air traffic control, using the phonetic alphabet to identify the plane by the last three digits of the call sign, Six Echo Romeo.
    As the sturdy four-seater climbed to the altitude specified by the Portland tower, I looked down at the familiar twists of the Columbia River we have often cruised.
    From above, the river bore the expected, but rarely seen resemblance to our weathered charts. As we noted the sandbar trailing off the lower end of Sandy Island, I had an instant appreciation for the aids to navigation which we sometimes take for granted.
    As the river turned toward the ocean, the scene below turned to a patchwork of forests. Established stands of trees and more recently planted sections were clearly discernable and logging roads trailed across them like dusty brown ribbons.
    Off to the east rose the snow covered peaks of Rainier, St. Helens, Adams, and Hood. As we headed north along the Coast Range, the air space was ours. We conversed through our headsets, Dave and I pointing out favorite anchorages along the river, and our pilot sharing stories of the other travelers who have shared her cockpit.
    For a few brief moments above Grays Harbor County, our attention was drawn to the maneuvers of a stunt flyer practicing aerobatics in a World War II vintage plane.
    Jane radioed our position to the Portland tower, advising them of this potential hazard. Then we let the looming Olympic Mountains recapture our attention. Their feet hidden in a low blanket of clouds, the mountains towered majestically before us. Ascending to 8,000 feet, our pilot circled eastward, keeping well away from the highest peaks.
    Below us we could see the zigzagging trails of mountain sheep. The updrafts and wind currents seemed to mimic the rocky terrain, and I let my body relax back into the seat, thrilling to the bumpier ride over the mountains.
    Emerging on the north side of the Olympics, we caught occasional glimpses of communities through the persistent clouds. Through our headphones, we listened to other pilots reporting on visibility and weather. Jane called ahead to the Port Angeles traffic advisor, proposing an approach path that would take us out over the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
    As the plane banked and descended to a lower altitude, we lost the sun and ducked beneath the cloud ceiling. Approaching shore, we easily spotted Ediz Spit, the long arm of land embracing Port Angeles harbor. The marinas soon loomed below us, and I hastily searched for Trig's familiar deck layout as we passed above the boats. Not surprisingly, I found there was little to distinguish one sailboat from another from 1,500 feet.
    After a perfect touchdown at Port Angeles International Airport, we pulled our life jackets and gear from the Cessna's luggage space, and I gave our pilot a hug. She was just taxiing back out for her return to Hillsboro when a cab called for us at the door of the small airport building. Then Dave and I headed off to Boat Haven, ready for our next big adventure.
    All told, with our short wait for our rendezvous in Vancouver and the even shorter taxi ride in Port Angeles, our commute from Portland to the Straits took less than two hours. It would have taken eight to ten hours had we gone by bus or train. Savings are even greater for groups of three, as Rose Air charges for the use of the plane, rather than by the passenger.
    Next time you need to get crew or family to or from a distant port, you might want to check into the convenience of chartering a flight through Rose Air at 503-675-ROSE (503-675-7673).