“Life Begins at the End of Your Comfort Zone” – Neale Donald Walsch
The morning of Tuesday, September 12th, the real journey began. We boarded two big vans and proceeded up the mountain to the Stanley Danner Field. The planes were on their way — 3 of them — each smaller than the one before it. When we got up to the top of the mountain, there was a small terminal and one very small paved runway. I said, “So, we just fly off the end of the mountain and hope for the best?” Someone answered “Yep!” Yikes!!!!
Once the planes arrived, the pilots began shifting passengers, gear, and dry bags around in order to appropriately distribute the weight in each plane. It was a little like an bartering fair – “you take Karlene and Stephanie in the smallest plane and we’ll take Chuck in the larger plane.” Then a few minutes later, “I’ll take Karlene AND Chuck in the smaller plane, let’s move Stephanie to the mid-size plane.” “Can you take these cases of beer?” “Who has the guitars?”
I noted as the largest (and by largest, I mean the 10 passenger Cessna) plane arrived, one of it’s wheels was a bit wobbly. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to be in one of the small planes or the ‘big’ plane with the wobbly wheel. I figured at 65 I have lived a really good life and if this was my time to go, I would go with dignity. So, I quietly waited to be assigned to a seat. Michael and I both ended up in the ‘big’ plane.
The Stanley Airport Terminal
Here comes one of the 3 planes!
Distributing guests & baggage among the planes.
The smallest plane – Karlene and Chuck rode in this one. Only room for them and the pilot.
Inside the ‘big’ plane!
The short flight to the put-in point was fairly smooth. Our landing was a little bumpy, but being in a small plane really gives you a bird’s eye view of the country side! Usually, when you see the term “field” in the name of an airport, it just means airport. Not so, in this case. We landed in a field. They called it a runway, but I’m here to tell you, that was NO runway. I’ve seen runways — they are long and covered in blacktop with giant arrows and numbers marked in bright paint all over the place. There are little men in orange vests with ear muffs on, carrying big glow sticks — waving them around to show the pilots where to go.
At Thomas Creek, we landed in a field! It was dirt with weeds growing all over it. No blacktop, no painted direction arrows, no little men with glow sticks. There was a stick with an orange sock stuck on it. Apparently, that’s all it takes to be christened a runway. It was a big, long, dirt field that was fairly level. I’ll accept Landing Strip (but that was no runway).
A view of Stanley as we head off.
Valley Creek heading away from Stanley.
Mountains everywhere!
Downed trees look like so many fallen matchsticks.
See — This is a field, with weeds. NOT a runway.
Safari So Good 