Baby Pilots and Lumberjacks

Okay okay okay. I’m home. Ugh.

By ‘home’ I mean Quesnel, as opposed to how I say ‘home’ when I’m going to Maple Ridge, or even when I say I’m going ‘home’ to go to Ohio. Keep up, would you?

Coming home (Quesnel) was a bit of a rush. I got a call on Monday for an interview on Tuesday, but due to extreme car issues I had to bump the interview to this morning and flew up yesterday.

Let’s just discuss flying to Quesnel. Now, I don’t want to frighten you because I want you all to come visit me, but the whole process of flying ‘up north’ is absolutely terrifying. I know that there are certainly smaller planes to fly on, but when I walked out and saw this, I said out loud “Holy shit that’s a small plane.”

I’ve never been on such a tiny plane. And when you get inside, it feels even smaller. Like, sardine can small. Luckily I’m of the short variety and didn’t have to stoop down like nearly every other person who got on the plane. AND THEN I SAW MY PILOT.

Okay, I’m all for young people doing big jobs. Young doctor? Great, as long as you’re not delivering my child. Young lawyer? You do that lawyer thing young person. Young teacher? Yay! Young pilot? GTFO.

My pilot, who was very good by the way, looked younger than me. He had baby cheeks. He wore aviators, probably to try to convince us all that he was a real pilot. So when I hopped on this tiny plane and into my little seat, I was scared out of my mind. Then I discovered that there were no flight attendants on my flight. No big, I don’t need my standard in-flight cranberry juice, that’s totally cool. However, when you’re pilot says, “Hey, so if you need anything during the flight just WALK ON UP AND TAP ME ON THE SHOULDER,” I firmly believe you have the right to freak out a little bit. I mean, maybe it’s weird but I like that my commercial pilots look something like a poor man’s George Clooney and stay firmly ensconced in the cockpit for the duration of my flight. I do not want them distracted by someone tapping them on the shoulder to be all “Hey, it’s a little cold in here.” During takeoff I did extreme yoga breathing, which is basically me doing Lamaze breathing and just pretending I’m not freaking out.

The actual flight itself was lovely. Beautiful, amazing views of the mountains and the trees. Loved every minute, except for the minute when we hit a bird while landing. That was fun.

The upside of flying up north is that you are very likely to be sharing the plane with several lumberjack types. Not only will they probably save you in the event of some baby-pilot-induced-emergency, they are (if you’re lucky) not half bad to look at. That’s how I found my flight gate by the way. Not by looking at the gate numbers, but by simply following the plaid and steel toed boots. They will never lead you astray.

So I’m back now. I had my interview this morning. I think it went well, or at least the number of things I remembered to say outweighed the number of things I forgot to say. So that’s good! I also made them laugh repeatedly, which I always count as a gold star on my interview report card.

P.S. I’m getting nervous about the river. It’s big. And high. And fast. And it’s on my path. Oops, can’t run when it’s flooded….


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