Wyatt, a communications inspector with a resume longer on paperwork than practical experience, found himself strapped into a tiny plane, buffeted about like a ping-pong ball in a hurricane. His destination: a remote Alaskan communications facility. His experience with small planes? Let’s just say he’d once watched a documentary about the Wright brothers.
The pilot, a grizzled veteran named Gus with a beard that could house a family of squirrels, cheerfully pointed out the scenery. “Beautiful, eh, Wyatt? The Alaskan wilderness in all its glory!”
Wyatt, however, was less interested in the glory and more interested in the rapidly approaching ground. They were descending towards a landing strip barely visible beneath a swirling blanket of snow. The plane bucked and weaved, sounding like a rusty washing machine on its last spin cycle.
“Uh, Gus,” Wyatt squeaked, his voice barely audible above the roar of the engine. “That… that looks a little… snowy.”
Gus chuckled, a sound like gravel gargling with cough syrup. “Snowy? Son, you haven’t seen snowy until you’ve seen *Alaskan* snowy. This is practically a tropical beach compared to what we get in January!”
The plane lurched violently, sending Wyatt’s stomach into orbit. He gripped the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white, muttering a silent prayer to every deity he could think of, including the mythical Sasquatch.
Just as Wyatt braced himself for a potentially fatal impact, the plane bounced once, twice, then bumped along the snow-covered runway. The plane slowed, shuddered, and finally came to a stop.
Wyatt, miraculously unscathed, unbuckled his seatbelt, legs like jelly. He stumbled out of the plane, taking in the pristine white landscape.
“Well,” Gus said, patting Wyatt on the back with a force that almost sent him sprawling again, “Welcome to the Alaskan wilderness! Now, about those communications… they’re a little… *primitive*.”
Wyatt blinked, looked at the snow, then at the tiny, snow-covered shack that passed for a communications facility, and then back at the plane. He realised that his fear of the plane ride was nothing compared to the sheer terror of the next few days. He sighed. At least he had a good story to tell – if he survived.
