I would have wandered around the grounds of the long-deserted motel and taken more pictures, but I had a feeling that someone was watching from the leftmost second-floor room, so I departed.
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From the category archives:
Drifting and dreaming
I was sitting with a woman I was “sort of” seeing at the time. There was a breeze blowing. The palm trees surrounding the oasis were making those sounds that they make when the wind blows.
“Whispering,” I said to her, thinking of an old motel that I was familiar with.
“Palm trees don’t whisper. They rustle,” [...]
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Allow me to reminisce for a moment, if you will…
I’m covering some old territory here when I used to ride south to Florida in the early 80s. I remember stopping on the east side of Chicago for gas. I asked the attendant (yes, they had gas jockeys back then) for a quick place to eat. [...]
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It was a Saturday and I was stopped in Grand Forks taking a break. Heat and distance had tired me out, so I was sitting in the shade at a gas’n’go drinking some water to rehydrate.
Another hundred and a half and I’d be home.
I watched her pull up to the air pump in front of [...]
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I’ve paid this tax more than a few times in my life, the first as a youngster when I sent home via a friend and his vehicle a couple of sleeping bags, a ton of photos from flight school and some clothes. They never arrived.
Don, the flight-school friend, had been just another Canadian who went [...]
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When first learning to fly, I had a number of flight instructors. Most were inexperienced in the rigors of bush flying, having been kept on by the flight school to build their flight times up to some magic number or other imposed by the industry and the companies they wanted to work for. They were [...]
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Jean-Marc and I lost touch once more after our escapades in East Africa. Occasionally I would end up in the places he had been, and I would be approached by someone or another as to his whereabouts. I didn’t know, of course. By then, we were both traveling hither and yon to the far-flung outposts [...]
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The overseas project I was in charge of needed another aircraft and flight crew to cover the increased work load, so the company had one boxed and flown into Djibouti via an Air France 747. When Jean-Marc stepped off the plane I was as surprised as he was, but we had no time to reminisce. [...]
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