{"id":1483,"date":"2010-11-02T17:23:36","date_gmt":"2010-11-02T21:23:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/?p=1483"},"modified":"2012-05-08T13:39:33","modified_gmt":"2012-05-08T17:39:33","slug":"high-point-of-2009-part-two-i-just-flew-in-a-fucking-airplane","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/high-point-of-2009-part-two-i-just-flew-in-a-fucking-airplane\/","title":{"rendered":"high point of 2009, part two: I JUST FLEW IN A FUCKING AIRPLANE!"},"content":{"rendered":"

A continuation of the best reason to subject a Leica to playa dust:<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

The Black Rock City Intergalactic Spaceport is located on the edge of town, and from the ground, makes for a staggering look back on the Thursday madness (yes, there’s a mountain range behind that wall of white, yes, we were about to get in a plane and fly through it):<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Quickly meandering through the Black Rock Travel Agency,<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

we eventually found George, our pilot, right outside the coyote cafe.<\/p>\n

\"120\"<\/p>\n

\"24\"<\/p>\n

Under normal circumstances, one might think twice about a shirtless pilot baking under the high desert, high noon purgatory, but out here there is an alternate translation which seems to filter just about everything.<\/p>\n

\"21\"<\/p>\n

Before walking out to the runway, we all rigged up, the FAA requires all passengers in a plane with an open door to wear a parachute.<\/p>\n

\"22\"<\/p>\n

All the observers were given a safety briefing by that guy in the mirrored glasses, thong and assless chaps.\u00a0 Best safety briefing ever.\u00a0 Awesome.<\/p>\n

\"25\"<\/p>\n

Walking up on this view, after lagging behind the group, the first wave of anxiety really managed to dig itself in deep.\u00a0 That 175 yards is among the longest distances I can remember walking in a very very, very very long time.<\/p>\n

\"107\"<\/p>\n

Enter the Pac 750XL.\u00a0 Designed for carrying really heavy cargo into runways on the side of mountains that have really high pitch approaches.\u00a0 Its a supercharged turbo prop engine built for maximum torque, maximum payload and maximum terror.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Lets get down to the fear.\u00a0 I hate flying.\u00a0 Actually, I passionately hate flying.\u00a0 When I climbed up the mediocre aluminum home depot ladder into this plane, it took just about all the strength I had to lift my leg up each step.\u00a0 Neil Armstrong has nothing on me…\u00a0 I was bonkers excited to challenge myself but nearly paralyzed with anxiety trying to get it in my head that I was actually doing this shit.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

George would eventually strap me into that copilot’s seat which became the scene of the wildest emotional rollercoaster I have ever been on.\u00a0 Eternally grateful that John had offered me the ticket, providing me with the experience of a lifetime.\u00a0 Looking out the window at the talc fine playa dust coating intake valves and aerlons, eternally fearful that this would be the last thing I would ever do.\u00a0 Somehow I got to the point where I figure that would be ok.\u00a0 And it was in that moment that the engine turned over.<\/p>\n

\"49\"<\/p>\n

Now that was certainly a new sound.\u00a0 A familiar sound for sure, but one that had never had any personal meaning to me at all.\u00a0 Taking off in a tiny plane, for my first time: a vibrating, jarring, leap of faith. \u00a0Then the throttle leaned forward and I flashed: flight canceled yesterday.\u00a0 Flight held a few times this morning.\u00a0 All from white out wind.\u00a0 Fuck, what am I doing.\u00a0 Taxiing down the bouncy runway, more throttle, more anxiety.\u00a0 That was a brand new sound.\u00a0 That was a brand new vibration.\u00a0 This sure as shit is a new level of anxiety.\u00a0 A Pac750xl at full throttle with the side door open was terror redefined for me.\u00a0 Maybe I could pull this lever, put my arm through that loop, jump on the shoulders of that guy, climb over the head of the next and use both feet to push into the abdomen of the jumper sitting in the door to propel myself out of the plane before we get to the end of the runway.<\/p>\n

\"48\"<\/p>\n

And then we were in the air.\u00a0 Air so windy and turbulent, so pissed off man had devised a way to use it for lift that all it could do in return was push the plane up, down, left and right, all at the same time.\u00a0 Mostly, I was horrified, but this instantly became the new standard for Awesome in my life.\u00a0 A standard that already had the bar raised to a ridiculously high point.<\/p>\n

\"50\"<\/p>\n

As the horizon broadened, the dust got smaller and smaller and the pounding of my heart found a rhythm beating against the whine of an engine screaming RPM’s, there was something new, rather, something I had forgotten about years ago: freedom.<\/p>\n

\"56\"<\/p>\n

The flight plan we had that afternoon was pretty interesting, we did a steep cork screw climb to a few thousand feet and then a leveled out to 11,000 feet over the city, around 15,000 above sea level.\u00a0 This is the first time I had ever been in a turbo prop, but Im under the distinct impression that not every plane could do the climb that we did, certainly not as fast at that pitch- that engine has brutish torque to climb.<\/p>\n

\"58\"<\/p>\n

\"59\"<\/p>\n

I’ll never forget the moment I took this photo.\u00a0 The localized turbulence up to this point was brutal but things calmed down enough for my shaking, sweaty, cold hands to hold my M calmly enough to my face to snap this picture, lower it and pause for what felt like a lifetime looking at the road we’ve all sat on for hours waiting to get in, the city we had built at the end of it, and really, truly appreciate how lucky I was to be up here, above it all checking out some shit that only a small handful of people get to see each year from this perspective.<\/p>\n

\"57\"<\/p>\n

After a forceful, full throttle climb to jump altitude, the engine pulled back, the plane leveled out and the jumpers began to stir inside the cabin.<\/p>\n

\"64\"<\/p>\n

\"74\"<\/p>\n

It was an interesting feeling, watching my buddy get up to jump out of the plane that we were both in.\u00a0 In many ways, he was the tiny piece of security I had in there and in a few seconds, Id be all alone to deal with the plane headed to the ground, but hell, how hard could that be?\u00a0 The worst was behind us for sure…<\/p>\n

\"68\"<\/p>\n

In the midst of this thought I leaned over to snap this picture, unquestionably the most personally important single frame of film I have exposed in the last five years.\u00a0 We have had more fun inside that pentagon than should ever be possible and here I was above it, for the express purpose of making this image, with the guy who had originally brought me out to this place years prior.\u00a0 Critical amount of fun.<\/p>\n

\"77\"<\/p>\n

\"80\"<\/p>\n

\"81\"<\/p>\n

The poor guy in the foreground on the left, yeah, he cant hear out of his right ear anymore.\u00a0 More on this later…<\/p>\n

\"83\"<\/p>\n

With a wave and a gust of wind, jumpers were out.\u00a0 I was digging the new found cruising of that last thirty seven leveled out seconds so the sky divers could jump.\u00a0 And then, over the roar of the propeller, the blast of the wind screaming through the cabin, George leaned over to yell at me:<\/p>\n

\"85\"<\/p>\n

“Are all the jumpers out?”<\/p>\n

Are all the jumpers out.\u00a0 Reflections from this echo still reappear in a dream every now and again.\u00a0 Not knowing what the fuck I was about to get into, I foolishly replied, “yes”.<\/p>\n

There were critical pieces of information I did not know before I got on that plane, critical pieces of information I thankfully did not know.<\/p>\n

That plane has gotta go up and down as many times as possible on the fuel it has available to allow for the maximum amount of jump flights.\u00a0 This means its flight times have to be as short as possible.\u00a0 There are some moments in life when “as short as possible” means, well, kinda short, quick even.\u00a0 Then there are other moments where it just means as short as fucking possible.\u00a0 This was most certainly of the later variety.\u00a0 I was scared shitless getting into the plane, terrified getting to altitude but I was just about to be reborn.\u00a0 And reborn hard.<\/p>\n

\"86\"<\/p>\n

Yes, all the jumpers are out.<\/p>\n

The pilot nodded, leaned forward and cranked the door down with the hand crank attached to the wire which ran along the pulley to the side door.<\/p>\n

He had seen me freaking out the whole time, he gave me this look, smiled and then cautioned, “hold on”.\u00a0 In that moment I remember looking at the blue sky out the side window and then instantly, and I mean *instantly* seeing the ground.\u00a0 This happened concurrent with what felt like twice the normal gravity pushing me back into my seat.\u00a0 All bets were off and now Im screaming like a girl and there is NO chance of any more photos ’cause Im just not nearly as hardcore as I would have liked to had thought.<\/p>\n

\"87\"<\/p>\n

There isnt much room in these planes, everyone has to sit legs spread, the parachute of the guy in front of you is resting on your chest the whole time.\u00a0 Eighteen seconds into the descent, the guy I mentioned earlier, well, he had the unfortunate pleasure of winning the unlucky lottery and got my freak out conducted, at certain death volume, a packed parachute width from his right ear.\u00a0 Clearly, something needed to happen:\u00a0 He turns around as best as he can and relays the following information:<\/p>\n

Hey!\u00a0 Im a pilot!\u00a0 Everything is cool!\u00a0 This is totally normal.\u00a0 We’ll be on the ground in a minute.\u00a0 Just try to look out the window, focus on the horizon, everything will be fine!<\/p>\n

Ok, right.\u00a0 Totally.\u00a0 Im being irrational.\u00a0 Chill your meltdown, listen to this guy.\u00a0 He’s a pilot.\u00a0 Everything is normal.\u00a0 Do as he says, just turn around, look at the horizon and everything is gonna be fine.\u00a0 Yes, that’s excellent advice.\u00a0 Turn around, look at the horizon, everything will be cool.<\/p>\n

So I fight the gravity, lean forward so I can turn around, look out the front window of the plane and there it is.\u00a0 Brown.\u00a0 Earth.\u00a0 The fantastic detail of the black rock desert screaming up closer and closer through the blur of the propeller out the front windshield.\u00a0 No blue.\u00a0 No sky.\u00a0 It was in that moment that I put together that the pilot had put the plane in a full throttle nose dive to the ground.\u00a0 The absolute last thing I think anyone wants to see, looking out the window of an airplane is NO SKY.\u00a0 So there we were, in a nose dive losing 3,600 feet per minute<\/p>\n

\"88\"<\/p>\n

which ended in a thirty degree, probably-dont-need-to-ever-feel-this-amount-of negative-g-force, banking turn to line the plane up with the runway approaching the city.\u00a0 The horizon should never cut through your frame at this angle when you are holding a camera parallel to your feet…<\/p>\n

\"89\"<\/p>\n

It took 18 minutes for us to climb at full throttle eleven thousand feet.\u00a0 We lost that eleven thousand feet of elevation in THREE minutes.\u00a0 Three minutes to the ground, we beat every single one of the sky divers back to the ground.\u00a0 Eighteen minutes up, three minutes down.\u00a0 Holy hell, best ride ever.\u00a0 Ever.<\/p>\n

\"91\"<\/p>\n

Once on the ground safely, the adrenaline high lasted for close to 72 hours.\u00a0 Ive done some exceptionally cool shit in my life and this experience was the most mind bending thing ever.\u00a0 I suppose you can get into a skydiving plane just about anywhere and experience something similar, but flying over Burning Man, what a bunch of madness, neatly packaged, cautiously rationed, secretly gifted and rabidly received.\u00a0 Im a lucky, lucky, lucky motherfucker.<\/p>\n

\"102\"<\/p>\n

I thought it was odd, on the way out to the plane that George didnt have that shirt on.\u00a0 Had I seen what he chose to wear to work that day, I might not have made it onto the airstrip.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

So that was 2009.\u00a0 I walked away from that plane with my temporary passport and before I got back through the point of entry, I was plotting how to get back in the air again for 2010.<\/p>\n

\"27\"<\/p>\n

Little did I know then, walking away from one of the all time best experiences of my entire life, that the best was yet to come.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A continuation of the best reason to subject a Leica to playa dust: The Black Rock City Intergalactic Spaceport is located on the edge of town, and from the ground, makes for a staggering look back on the Thursday madness (yes, there’s a mountain range behind that wall of white, yes, we were about to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[21,35,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1483","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-burning-man","category-john-pedone","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1483","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1483"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1483\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3633,"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1483\/revisions\/3633"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1483"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1483"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/daveraphael.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1483"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}