The Water Truck
December 16, 2019
Early morning, barely light, a high, electronic, belly-dancer tune woke us. Audible first only to street dogs, then faintly for humans, it soon became distinct.
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Early morning, barely light, a high, electronic, belly-dancer tune woke us. Audible first only to street dogs, then faintly for humans, it soon became distinct.
Holding my new, squirmy, squeaky granddaughter reminded me of two flights. The first flight raced against desolation. A teenage girl, struggling to deliver her first
When I arrived in Ecuador, I quickly learned jungle flying was serious business. Take no maneuver for granted. Attend to every detail. Reject all distractions.
A few days ago, I released my second book, Mile-High Missionary: A Jungle Pilot’s Memoir. What a marathon! While writing it, the focus morphed twice,
A couple days ago I flew 20 minutes from Nampa, ID to Ontario, OR. I was flying to practice instrument approaches—procedures that guide aircraft to
Thinking of the isolated pastors I worked with in the Amazon jungle, I realized a summary of their stories might go something like this: Pastor
Ask any bird. Defying gravity is hard work. A hummingbird, for example, weighs less than an ounce but must eat one to three times her
Regina and I flew a Cessna 172 from Nampa to Cottonwood, Idaho, for a short Valentine’s retreat. The weather forecasts proved accurate—clear skies for our
Early morning desert air. The crisp, need-a-jacket kind of air. Sky bright, but the hangar and scattered mesquite trees still cast long shadows. Preflight done.
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