Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Well, not really any trains involved.  But I am reminded of an experience I once had, which I'd like to share.

In the summer of 1995, I was newly assigned to the USAF Survival School. My civilian boss, Dan, was a skinflint from hell, and if we had more people like him in government, the deficit would vanish overnight. We might also revert to the stone age, but I digress. (Internet?  Aw, hell... just carve it on a rock and throw it at 'em...)

Anyway, climbing into my Wayback machine, (spelling debatable) here we go:

1995... USAF Survival School at Fairchild AFB, WA.  We were parent organization to the Arctic Survival detachment just outside Fairbanks, Alaska, on Eielson AFB.  They needed some computer help, were trying to get e-mail and interwebs.  So myself and a guy named Greg were dispatched on the Holy Quest. To be their Prometheus, bringing them the gift of fire.  (Or internet.)

So Greg had the power of the Holy Credit Card, backed by the full faith & credit of the U.S. Government. We were told to use it in restraint.

We began by piling into a Chrysler K Car, vintage unknown. We drove from Fairchild AFB to McChord AFB. Approximately a 5 hour drive.

(Couldn't find a dark blue one with USAF markings, but you get the idea.)

We got a room in the base hotel, and checked in with Base Operations, somehow we got booked on a USAF C-5 cargo transport the next day.  Upper deck seating is not unlike an airliner, minus most of the windows.

(Almost NO ONE gets a window seat, and the lower deck can hold 6 Greyhound buses.)

We arrived at Elmendorf AFB, just outside Anchorage, Alaska. We stayed with a former co-worker (Paul) of Greg while we tried to find transport to Fairbanks/Eielson.  Meanwhile, Paul showed us around.  Got to see 5-6 foot king salmon trying to jump a dam under the almost midnight sun. Bald eagles flying like seagulls to feast on fish stranded by the tide, and the clear blue ice of a glacier under the mid-day sun.

Indelible images that I do not wish to forget.

We finally had to fly commercial airline to Fairbanks.  I think it was Alaska Airlines.  This may or may not be the type we flew:

We arrived at Fairbanks uneventfully, but still needed to get to Eielson AFB.  We were met by Mark, a big guy who was nicknamed "The Beast."  A good guy who I've worked with in other capacities since.  But he picked us up and got us to Eielson AFB.  We rode a USAF 6-pax truck, something like this one:

Throw on some serial numbers and you've got an historic relic.

We stayed in the Arctic Survival detachment's command post for free.  It was during the Summer Solstice, so there was no such thing as actual night. (Eielson AFB does not get the true midnight sun, but it is close, being just outside the Arctic Circle.) The windows were plastered with aluminum foil to facilitate the illusion of night, but one evening in particular, we were watching TV and realized it was 1 or 2 AM, but because the sky was still illuminated... we lost track.

While staying there, I saw the beauty of Alaska.  I saw Denali from hundreds of miles away, somewhat of a rarity, because clouds often obscure it. I saw moose walk in front of that 6-pax truck, and I looked up at them, and they were not the least bit concerned with me.

Ultimately, we got their computers hooked up to the interwebs & the base infrastructure.  Can't have our military personnel not be able to watch the latest funny cat videos, right?

So our time is up... how do we get home?

Why, a USAF C-12, of course!

USAF "Puddle Jumper"

Now, one advantage of this is something I can never put a price on.  I flew by a mountain. Anglicized, its name is Mount McKinley, named after a President who never saw it.

I prefer the Native name:  Denali.  "The High One" or "The Great One" depending on translation.

The highest mountain on the North American continent. Approximately 20,237 feet tall. The images I captured do not give it proper honor. You were not there. You did not see it, you did not feel it.  

That mountain spoke to me.

I felt so tiny and insignificant... yet so powerful.  I am not a person of faith, I am not generally spiritual... but that mountain spoke to me.

I do not know what it said. But until the day I die, I feel that it said something to me.

This is one image that I tried to capture:

(A photo I took from a USAF C-12... not very good.)

Here's a more "textbook" photo:

My attempt was not so good due to luck and equipment. (I was using a disposable camera.)

I may be incorrect in my use of the term... but that mountain is a massif.

Ahem... but I digress.


Greg & I had been living out of suitcases, with an indefinite itinerary.  We made it back to Elmendorf AFB (Anchorage), and then were finding ourselves stranded.  Once there, we finally used the full faith and credit of the U.S. Government to buy ourselves some tickets to Seattle-Tacoma Airport.

We made it there, late at night.  No rooms at the inn.  We went to Denny's to regroup, and I settled on steak & eggs. Wound up finding a "by the hour" motel. We were so freakin' tired that we didn't care that there was only one bed.

We conked out, atop the covers, and we each had one foot on the floor.

We got back in our Lee Iacocca special and found our way back to Fairchild AFB... and by then I was hating my boss.

Dan, I still hate you.  But without this experience, I would not have seen many things....

You were a cheapskate asshole...  but I kinda wish we had more like you in government.

-- Sam