Rawl figured the sight a must see. Chris needed little persuading and dragged Laurie along kicking and screaming. Without notice they hopped into a 4×4 and caught a flight from Ogle Airport. They didn’t have time to check the credentials of the pilot but later found out his nickname was Mad Dog. If only they had known that before the flight; Mad Dog could have taken his single prop Cessna and suffered it. They were accompanied on their adventure by two big burly city lawyers from England, a couple of toffs who were bragging about escaping a coup in Chile prior to Georgetown.
Sixty minutes into the flight they were bleating like sissies. Laurie was in the back, bent over double, trying not to retch as he felt he’d been riding the big dipper at Six Flags for the duration. The cockpit was cramped and incredibly noisy. Their pilot, a short determined hombre with a huge moustache, did not speak English. He tapped a gauge reading zero.
“Which gauge is that?” cried the lawyer.
“The fuel,” said Rawl.
“Oh shit, shit.”
“It’s okay, I don’t think the gauge is working.”
Fact was none of the gauges were working. They were running on fumes, flying blind and lost as they were at least half hour over their planned thirty minute flight. Mad Dog descended to get a point of reference then suddenly pulled up to avoid a rapidly approaching cliff.
Chris took control. “Do you wanna turn back?” Back came a resounding Yes from the Lawyers. Laurie nodded hunched over, busy subduing the pain.
“It looks worse than it is.” said Rawl eager to stay on schedule “Trust me I’ve done this trip many times, this is normal.”
“Are we nearly there?” Jimmy shouted, tapping his watch.
Mad Dog ignored him, gestured with his hands to calm them down and feverishly went back to some gauge tapping.
Laurie threw up and wiped his mouth. “Just fucking land, will ya.”
Finally they hit the runway and evacuated the craft. Laurie stumbled out, kissed the ground, euphoric as if a last minute reprieve had been granted. He sniped at Chris.
“You happy? You had your Adventure now?”
Jimmy laughed through the pain, it was very Laurie. Rawl took it in his stride and the burly lawyers remained silent, trying to style it out. They had survived the near death experience and were 822ft closer to god.
They sat in a wooden shelter exhausted and broken. Rawl splintered off to fetch the flatbed. Lunch was delivered in foam food containers. Their humble Chicken Dal Puri was elevated; each morsel savoured like Filet Mignon, flooding their senses, reviving consciousness.