Riding in Style

When I was at Chickenstock, I hung out with a cool guy called Danny who invited me to visit him in Anchorage sometime. I got in touch with him from Homer and said I was going to hitch up to see him. “Would you rather I flew down to pick you up?” he said. Funnily enough, I said yes. He told me to meet him at the airstrip, which was a bit of a slog from Bob’s house but I arrived at the same time as Danny and his housemate Dustin so it all worked out well. Danny took us into the little office to submit a flightplan and look at the weather forecast because they’d had a rough journey on the way in, then we walked to the airstrip and I stood for a while admiring his plane, a cute little four-seat Cessna from the 1960s.

Pretty little plane.

Pretty little plane.

Then we were off.

Climbing up above Homer.

Climbing up above Homer.

Once we were stabilised, he explained a few things then let me take the controls. So suddenly I was flying a plane! It was amazing how light and responsive it felt beneath my hands. I flew for what felt like a long time, concentrating on keeping it level and straight, and totally loved it.

Entrusted with responsibility.

A position of responsibility.

The landscape below us was pleasant but relatively flat by Alaskan standards, with many winding rivers and lakes. At first there were lots of houses as we followed the road, but then the road turned away to the east and we kept going straight north towards Anchorage, suddenly in the wilderness.

Lots of salmon in there.

Lots of people.

No people.

No people.

Danny let me fly until we got to Turnagain Arm, the body of water just south of Anchorage. The air was choppy over the water and he had to communicate with air traffic control about his upcoming landing, though that wasn’t too challenging for him because he’s an air traffic controller by profession.

Slighty choppy air over Turnagain Arm, but nothing to worry about.

Slighty choppy air over Turnagain Arm, but nothing to worry about.

He landed in Anchorage, with the little plane juddering in the wind, and Dustin helped him tie his plane down at his parking spot beside the airstrip.

Tying down.

Tying down.

All in all, I’ve had worse rides.

 

Total distance hitchhiked: 2,825 km.
Total number of rides: 27.
Distance from Nabesna: 480 km.

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