The first time I laid eyes on the Donger, he was walking across a luggage carousel at a small airport set in the middle of the Guatemalan jungle.
With brooding eyes and a strong posture, he could make you break out into a sweat if he held your gaze a bit too long. The Donger was in charge of the place and he knew it. No one could board a plane without his inspection and approval. Continue reading Hairspray, My Momma Told Me Not to Use It!
The pilot announced that the larger of the two bush planes was overweight. A week of Alaska’s famous salmon fishing meant that hundreds of pounds of flash-frozen filets were responsible for the tip of the scales. Two people would need to ride back to Anchorage in the smaller plane.
My father volunteers both me and my husband and we eagerly agree. The flight into Iguigig had been striking. Flying low through the Lake Clark Pass, glaciers loomed above us. Waterfalls cut their path down the steep mountain walls into striking turquoise waters below. I imagined re-experiencing that beauty in a romantic private plane setting, with the pilot pointing out sights as I canoodled with my husband.
We wave good-bye to my father and the other passengers as their plane takes off. I didn’t think anything of the light rain and breeze that had been increasing all morning. Continue reading Ooo Wee Ooo, I’m Gonna Die Like Buddy Holly
Half of the adventure is getting to where you are going. Over the next few weeks, I’ll chronicle some of my most harrowing transportation adventures. Stay tuned!