I'll throw my story out here, even though it's not THAT dramatic.
Back when I was an undergrad here at A&M (mid-1980's), I used my spring break to go with a group of guys on a mission trip to Guatemala. When we arrived in Guatemala City, we took a 12 hour bus ride to somewhere in the middle of nowhere in the mountains, and spent the next 4 days building houses for the indigenous Indian people who still lived there.
Now if you've ever taken a bus ride in a 3rd world country... in the mountains... let me explain that it really is about what it sounds like. 2 lane (almost) roads on a mountain side with no guard rails. Hair-pin turns that the bus had to take in 3 parts (go forward, backup - with the back of the bus hanging off the side of the cliff, then go forward).
But eh, we were college kids who were too young and stupid to know better.
But this is a plane thread, right?
So at the end of the week, the guy in charge decides that we probably shouldn't take the bus ride home. He finds some local airport in the middle of the Guatemalan mountain jungle. 12 of us arrive and drop our bags off the bus. The pilot starts eyeing us with a really concerned look. Says something in whatever Spanish dialect they use in the mountains of Guatemala, then motions us to load our bags in the "cargo area". After litterally body-slamming against the bags to force them in so the door will shut, we begin climbing into the passenger area.
I should have mentioned at this point that this is a 10 passenger plane with a prop on each wing. 12 of us are flying (not including the pilot). Somehow we all manage to fit. I'm sitting in a window seat under the right wing, above the wheels. Before the pilot climbs in, we see him talking to the bus driver who brought us to the "airport". Each of them grab a wing and push it backwards down the road we had come in on.
Pilot gets in, pushes the throttle to max (open cockpit so everyone can see everything), then releases the break. We taxi down the runway - all the way to the end. The runways just kind of ends ... at the edge of a cliff. We taxi out and the wheels never come off the ground - the plane just kind of goes off the edge of the cliff, dropping what seems like 200-300 feet before we get enough air speed to begin climbing.
As I said, most of us were too stupid to be scared. I think most of us wanted to do it again.
--
Chris Barnes
Retired A&M IT geek - now beekeeper
http://www.cornerstonehoneybees.com/
