Wes, Lizzy, and Dakota out front:
From the "tail section" balcony:
The "Cockpit":
From the jump seat:
One man band (not sure what the toilet paper is for):
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Chinook Club
Here's just a bit more proof that the Chinook is the best helicopter ever! Try doing this with an Apache!! We lucked out and happened to pull up when the owner was out back painting the steps. He invited us in and showed us around... even made us all a cup of tea! He didn't speak any English, but he sure was excited about Chinooks (obviously!). He was pretty happy to hear we were 47D pilots!
Wes, Lizzy, and Dakota out front:
From the "tail section" balcony:
The "Cockpit":
From the jump seat:
One man band (not sure what the toilet paper is for):
Wes, Lizzy, and Dakota out front:
From the "tail section" balcony:
The "Cockpit":
From the jump seat:
One man band (not sure what the toilet paper is for):
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Ode to South Korea
- by Wesley Jenkins
O' South Korea, how majestic are your power lines that you have strung over every mountain that might possibly be observed as a natural treasure and serve no greater good than to attempt to kill me in my helicopter everyday as I fly across the wire draped countryside.
O' South Korea, How short are your people that at 5'6" I might have to bend my knees to hit the preschool sized urinals mounted more near the foot than the crotch.
O' South Korea, How vast are your rice patties. The bright green rice blows in the wind like waves in the ocean; An ocean that smells like poo because they fertilized it with human feces. And the fluffy mouthwateringly delicious rice that is in my bowl clings to my chopsticks and tastes delectable. That is until you remember that the rice was grown using Kimchi fortified ca ca from under some farmers' family outhouse and maybe, just maybe, that brown speck just might not be pepper.
O' South Korea, How lovely art thou language. With all the squiggles and lines, it smiles at me as I try to decide which door says "Mens room" and which door says "Ladies room". The fanciful characters giggle as I pass them on a northbound road sign only to find out later it said, "Welcome to North Korea, We can't wait to shoot you".
O' South Korea, how majestic are your power lines that you have strung over every mountain that might possibly be observed as a natural treasure and serve no greater good than to attempt to kill me in my helicopter everyday as I fly across the wire draped countryside.
O' South Korea, How short are your people that at 5'6" I might have to bend my knees to hit the preschool sized urinals mounted more near the foot than the crotch.
O' South Korea, How vast are your rice patties. The bright green rice blows in the wind like waves in the ocean; An ocean that smells like poo because they fertilized it with human feces. And the fluffy mouthwateringly delicious rice that is in my bowl clings to my chopsticks and tastes delectable. That is until you remember that the rice was grown using Kimchi fortified ca ca from under some farmers' family outhouse and maybe, just maybe, that brown speck just might not be pepper.
O' South Korea, How lovely art thou language. With all the squiggles and lines, it smiles at me as I try to decide which door says "Mens room" and which door says "Ladies room". The fanciful characters giggle as I pass them on a northbound road sign only to find out later it said, "Welcome to North Korea, We can't wait to shoot you".
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