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I knew one of these days I was going to have to write an aviation related Balto fanfic, but I kept puting it off. Well anyway, I finally got around to starting it. Here are the beginnings:

EDIT:
I am giving this fanfic a PG rating for likely violence in its future


Balto... Balto wake up... Oh come on Balto...
Balto became dimly aware of Jenna's voice, but it seemed distant. He could not comprehend it. He was not concious, only very slightly aware; his vision remained blank, the world did not take shape, touch could not be precived. The world was intangible to him, a distant, seperate entity, rather then one on which he resided.
"Oh Balto! Come on... Please!"
Jenna's voice was clearer now, it had taken some definition, but still, Balto was unable to comprehend its meaning. The world remained intangible and distant.
"Balto..."
Gradually, conciousness returned to Balto. Jenna's voice seemed more local. He gingerly began to open an eye, but shut it again instantly, blinded.
"Je..Jenn..?", Balto tried.
"Balto!", Jenna gasped
Balto became aware of Jenna's form atop him, shielding him from cold he could not yet feel. Again, he attempted to open an eye. Balto could barely precive Jenna's silloute upon a blinding, white background. He attempted to shield himself from it, but found himself incapible of movment.
"Thats it, Balto.", Jenna whispered encouragingly
Against the harsh lighting change, Balto's eyes quickly dialated. Jenna's form took on a greater level of detail, first coloring, then shading, and finally, he could make out her precise features. Around her, the faint, dark hues of late evening began to replace the blinding light. A look of deep concern creased Jenna's face.
"...Balto, I was terrified we'd lost you. We're safe for now, but we have to get to refuge before daybreak. I've never seen a place like this before."
"W-where are we? I... I don't..", Balto shivered.
"Its all right Balto, nothing to worry about yet. Lets get you to shelter. We'll worry about it then."
Balto struggled unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily on Jenna. They were nestled in a planter against a low wall that seperated them from the primary walkway placed slightly higher. Surrounding the rest of the planter's perimiter was the asfault of a wide driveway and parking lot. The smell of concrete,cooling after a day of baking in the sun was overwhelming, similar to the smell of a rainwashed day, but still, a faint hint of salt water hung in the air.
"Up here, Balto"
Jenna gestured up the retaining wall, and scrambled up it. Balto fallowed her, steadying himself on the pavement on the warm sidewalk pavement on the other side. A sign to the right accross the driveway cought his eye. It read "Dolphin Cove municiple airport". Balto didn't know what that ment, but he knew it was significant. Balto glanced to his left. Down the wide path on which he stood were several low buildings with slanted glass walls, each bearing a sign with an unfamiliar name, and subscript reading "Business Terminal"
"Fallow me Balto.", Jenna whispered, gesturing towards a large courigated steel building accross the street.
Balto fallowed in a daze. He had no idea where he was or how he got there. The only aspect of his situation he was familiar with was the faint taste of salt water gently suspended in the night air. Balto looked skyward. Above him loomed the corrigated steel building, labeled with a large sign that read "Zenith Aviation".
"In here, Balto."
Jenna lept over the chain link fence that divided the hanger from the parking lot. Balto shadowed her, landing silently on the other side. Noiselessly, Jenna indicated a door in the hanger that sat slightly ajar, then darted into it. Balto remained in her shadow.
In dead silence, the pair padded down a narrow, carpeted cooridor, which opened abruptly into a massive open room, floored only by concrete. Dominating the room, the forms of three looming machines stood. Balto was mystified by the machines. He had never seen anything like them, he didn't think so anyway. For whatever reason, they kept drawing his mind back to Duke and his Steerman Dingo IV. Then, realization hit Balto. These were flying machines. They were flying machines and they were not of his erra. Balto gasped.
From the look in his eye, Jenna plucked Balto's thoughts.
"I know, Balto. Dont worry about it now."
Balto nodded in silent understanding, but a new glint of apprehension appeared in his eyes. Without word, he fallowed Jenna's lead. The two skirted the back wall of the hanger to the side opposite the door from which they entered. The far wall was lined with several doors, one of which hung slightly open. Jenna gestured towards it.
Jenna seemed differant to Balto. She seemed tense, cautious, but on the verge of panic. Balto could tell she was trying to be strong for him, she appeared calm but her eyes betrayed her fear.
Slipping through the door, Balto was greated by a deep utility closet, and the sleeping forms of Kodi and Aleu. Behind him, Jenna sighed with audible relief. Balto padded to the deepest corner of the closet, and let sleep take him again.



Generally I would write more, faster, but I have been limited by time, and havent quite gotten into the rhythm yet, as I've been deliberating over how to attack it. I originally came up with the idea sitting atop the retaining wall I described at Palomar airport in late evening, waiting to be picked up from a flight instruction session.

Update (I thought I'd make a new post because it makes sense as a chapter devision):

Balto awoke gradually. The air surrounding him lay still, chilled from a night without sun. In an instant, Balto's ears shot erect. He heard something, a faint, distant song. Balto could not place it, but something about it seemed strangly familiar... faintly the words floated to his ears:

Deep in the night the winds blow cold, ...

Entranced, Balto slipped from the closet, sticking against the wall.

And in a heartbeat, the fear takes hold...

Down another narrow carpeted hallway Balto slipped. The hallway ended abruptly with a weathered wooden door, hanging slightly ajar, revealing the cold air of the very early morning.

Deep in the storm, there's a place that's soft and still,...

Exiting the door swiftly, Balto stuck along the exterior wall of the hanger, his apprehension outweighing his curioustiy.

Where the road waits to be taken, if you only will...

Reafirming the direction of the sound, Balto slowly slunk around the corner to the front of the hanger. There, in his view, sat a massive silver bird. Its broad wings glistened in the airport's lights, flashing intermittantly when the massive sweep of the airport beacon landed upon them. Along the bird's empennage, the word Dakoda was printed in elegant text.

The voices inside you can lead you so astray,...

Balto felt a presence, but could not identify it. He fixated on the nose of the steel bird. Suddenly, he cought a glimpse of movment. From the bird's shadow arose a figure, a boy who Balto judged to be in his late teens. The boy knelt and carefully studied the bird's landing gear. Seemingly satisfied, he ducked out form under the aircraft, and began to walk its length, caressing the aluminum as if it were the fur of an enourmous cat. Softly, he sang to himself:

Believe in what you dream,
don't turn away, don't you turn away...
Reach for the light,
you might touch the sky.
Stand on a mountain top, and see yourself flying.
Reach for the light,
To capture a star,
Come out of the darkness and find out who you are.

The boy rounded behind the bird's tail, disapearing form Balto's sight. Balto heard a soft jingle of keys, fallowed by the click of a lock opening. After a brief delay, the door shut firmly, then silence. Balto stood transfixed, he did not know how long. Something about that enourous steel bird cought his intrest like Duke's Steerman had. Suddenly, Balto was jolted out of his trance. The silence was broken by an assertive yell.
"CLEAR LEFT!"
With that, the bird's left engine rattled, then thundered to life, filling the air with the sound of rolling thunder and spitting dust in its wake, its three bladed propeller appearing a solid disk with speed.
"CLEAR RIGHT!"
The bird's right engine fallowed the same pattern, rattling, then roaring to life, casting small debris behind it. Momentarily, the bird lurched, and began rolling forward. The thunder of its engines increased. Balto retreated, but did not run. He watched, enthralled. Down the tarmac the bird rumbled confidently, before holding short of a massive stretch of tarmac. After a brief pause, it rolled tentitvely onto the strip. Once it had aligned itself, its engines thundered assertively, and it began to rapidly increase in speed. Balto watched, transfixed. Still louder grew the thunder that eminated from the bird. Then, gracefully, it parted from the tarmac, liberated from the constraints of the Earth. Still its thunder grew deeper.
Balto's eyes remained locked on the bird as it vanished into the rising sun. Even after it disappeared from view, he sat transfixed, unaware of how long he had remained, having lost all track of time. Gradually, he became aware of the sun's heat upon his thick fur. For one last moment, Balto gazed at the morning sky before turning back to the hanger door from which he had emerged.

***


A massive explostion shattered the arctic sky. The deafening groan of metal, struck fear deep into Jenna's heart. She froze, only to be thrown against the cabin floor like a damp rag. Through the cockpit window Jenna could see flames streaming from streaming behind her as she slid into a steep dive. She fought the controls with all the strength she could muster, but to no avail. She could see the unforgiving tundra spiraling towards her, she tried to scream Balto's name...

***


"Jenna", Balto whispered. "Shh, Jenna its all right"
Jenna shot awake, panting heavily, her heart beating at an increadible rate. She shook violently with fear. Balto settled beside her, gently resting his muzzle upon Jenna's flank.
"Oh Balto...", Jenna panted. "I...I guess it was nothing"
Balto sighed, letting his presence calm Jenna's shaking body. He had never seen her respond so intensely to a dream.
"Jen... We cant stay here. We've no food or water, we dont know where we are, and...", Balto paused. "We cant even be sure of when we are. It's dangerous for us to leave, but its more dangerous for us to stay."
Jenna said nothing, but bower her head slightly, in silent agreement.
Overhearing Balto's words, Kodiack raised his head, his fur matted, his face void of its usual perky expression. Silently, he stood, moving to sit beside his parents. No words were exchanged, only silent understanding.
"Kodiack...", Jenna commanded, her voice stabilizing. " Get Aleu. We need to leave."
Kodi nodded slightly, still saying nothing. He walked to where Aleu lay, curled tightly in a corner. Gently, Kodiack nuzzled his sister.
"Aleu, wake up. We need to leave."
Without a word, Aleu rose to her feat. In silence the four canines stood, in unpoken mutal understanding.
"All right.", Balto adressed, "I have a plan, but... I... I can't promise its safe. Early this morning, I saw one of these flying machines take off. Something about it held my intrest, and somehow... I feel like its out ticket to out of here. I dont know why, but something about it feels right, and... I guess its our only option. I cannot promise what we'll find, and... I cannot promise..." he couldn't finish.
The four looked at each other in silent agreement, their intentions betrayed only by a slight nod. Balto sighed deeply, nosed open the closet door, and slithered out. The others fallowed automatically. Along the wall the four crept, sticking to the shadows.
The four stood behind the hanger door tensely. With great caution, Balto nudged it open. He was greated by a blast of hot Summer air. Siftly he glanced about the corner. There sat the massive silver bird, at roost on its asfault perch. Balto glanced at the other parked aircraft, then back at the bird. He noticed two key differances: Its wheels were free of chocks and its wing tiedowns were coiled into neat snakes beneath it. Balto took that to mean it would be flying soon. Balto indicated towards it, and crept around the corner, skirting the exterior of the hanger. Behind him, the others fallowed closely.
Beneath the bird's far wing they regrouped. Balto glanced up at the fusulage from beneath the wing. The cabin door hung open and unfolded, ready to recive its occupants with warm welcome. It seemed the aircraft was unattended. Silently, Balto slipped up the ladder and into the plush cabin. The rest of the group slipped in behind him. Balto looked about him for a place to hide. Behind the furthest rear seats, there was a deep recess, which Balto presumed was for luggage. He crawled into it. Jenna appeared next to him, having squirmed into the alcove. Kodi crawled in behind her. Finally, Aleu abandoned the light for the safety of the metal cavern. The four retreated into the shadows.
Balto felt something beneath him. He shifted, revealing a weathered book. Across its cover "Douglas DC-3 Dakoda N-235BK Pilot's Operating Handbook" was printed plainly. With great effort Balto managed to fold the first page over. He was greated with what appeared to be a simple schematic of the aircraft. Balto nudged the book aside, allowing it to close upon itself again.
Faintly, Balto heard footsteps. Gradually they grew closer to him, until haulting where he estimated was just behind the tail. A mumbled conversation insued. Balto could not make out the majority of the words, but he cought the final line:
"I'll see ya' up there."
It was the voice of the boy Balto had observed earlier.
There was a brief period of silence, fallowed by footsteps upon the metal ladder into which the cabin door unfolded, then to the cockpit, fallowed by the closing of the cockpit door. A few switches clicked, then the same assertive call:
"CLEAR LEFT"
A slight starter motor whine, then the rhythmic throbing of the radial engine.
"ClEAR RIGHT"
The right engine fallowed the pattern of the left.
Over the rhythmic whir of the engines Balto heard a muffled voice, monotone, yet somehow full of life.
"Dolphin Cove ground, Douglas 235BK at Zenith, VFR departure to the north with Echo."
Back accross the radio came another:
"Douglas 235BK Taxi to runway 17 via Alpha"
"Douglas 235BK Taxi to runway 17 via Alpha", confirmed the pilot.
Balto felt the aircraft lurch, then roll.
"Well, here we go", he thought.
Balto felt the aircraft round a corner, then reorient itself perpandicular to its previous heading. After a brief roll, it turned again and came to a stop.
"Dolphin Cove tower, Douglas 35BK holding short of 17-Alpha, ready for takeoff."
"Douglas 35BK; cleared for takeoff runway 17."
"Douglas 35BK; cleared for takeoff runway 17.", came the boy's reiteration.
The aircraft lurched into motion once more, turning sharply to the left, then halting again. Briefly it sat there, then came the thunder of the engines. Balto felt the takeoff roll begin. The thunder increased. The four exchanged looks, then braced themselves for the takeoff. Still the thunder increased, as did the vibrations. Balto felt himself being lifted as the tail of the aircraft took to the air, then he felt the main gear free itself from the ground.
Balto could not place the feeling he had at that moment, something like liberation, like newly found freedom, like constraints removed. He felt the aircraft pitch into a gentle climb, then roll into a gentle right turn.
As the aircraft leveled, Balto tried to get his bearings. His instincts told him he was traveling North-West. Within the compartment a crumbled map lay. Balto nudged it open. He remembered the sign, Dolphin Cove. After a brief search he found it, Dolphin Cove. It proved to be located in along the Central Coast of California. Balto knew what that ment. North-West was strait to Alaska! With renewed confidence, Balto turned back to his family.
"Well", he said. "Looks like were on our way home."
The others were already asleep, lulled by the engine drone. Balto sighed, and crawled to the back, settling with them.








Oh, also, sorry about the poor formatting, it eats itself when you copy-paste.

Again, a bit of a short post. Once I get myself out of the explosition I should be able to write a whole lot faster. Also some critique would be nice.

"-My god..."
Balto awoke suddenly to the sound of a voice. He quickly identified it as the pilot's.
"B-Balto? No, impossible..."
Balto turned and to his suprise was met by the pilot's gaze.
"No, it can't be... its been over 95 years..."
"Y-yes, but, who are you?", Balto spoke without thinking, then remembered his words would not be understood.
"My god this is one hell of a dream... Speech now too?
Balto recoiled slightly in confusion.
"You can... understand me?"
"Tell me im not dreaming.", the pilot requested.
"Not last time I checked.", Balto replied, his voice shaky.
"Well, thats certainly, ehm, interesting.", the pilot spoke slowly, amazed, yet calm. "Where did you come from? How did you get here?"
"I wish I could tell you." Balto replied breathed.
The pilot recoiled suddenly, struck with realization. He reached behind where Balto sat into the baggage recess, retrieving a newspaper coated with a days worth of dust. He shook the dust off of its pages and snapped it open. There across the page a headline was printed:
"DUAL ENGINE PLANE CARRYING SEVEN GEOLOGISTS CRASHES NEAR DOLPHIN COVE"
The fallowing article reported that the geologists had been flying home from Alaska after studying tectonic activity in the region. During their visit, they discovered several frozen canines that seemed to be biologically intact. The cause of the freezing was reported as unkown. Further research found the specimens to date back a ninety years, to 1925. Intrigued, the Geologists brought their findings home with them.
"That must have been you. The shock from the crash must have been enough to shock your body back into function.", the pilot reasoned. "But speech? The article claims some exeriments were run but does not go into detail on them. For now I'm afraid thats the best explenation we have. What about the others?"
"Alive.", Balto replied. "They are further into the luggage recess."
The pilot knelt down and peered into the compartment. Dimly he could see the other three sleeping forms.
"Are they also capable of speech?" The pilot inquired.
"I have no idea.", Balto replied slowly.
"Well...", the pilot exhaled, "Welcome to the future."
"And this is an example thereof?", Balto asked, glancing around the aircraft.
"Acctually, no. This is a Dougals DC-3. It's an old passenger liner who's desgin was originally comissioned back in 1930, only a few years after your erra. Its a museum piece, and my personal favorite aircraft.", the pilot replied, patting the interior of his aircraft lovlingly.
Suddenly, a jet engine roared overhead, fallowed by a concussive sonic boom. Balto jumped, startled. A glance out the window of the parked DC-3 and into the evening sky revealed a silver bird slicing elegantly through the sky. The pilot smiled.
"That, Balto, is an example thereof.", the pilot chuckled, remarkably unfased by whom he was addressing.
The pilot then turned and strode to the cockpit. His confidence increasing, Balto fallowed. His instincts told him he could trust this boy. Entering the cockpit, he lept onto the copilot's seat.
"So where are you headed?", Balto inquired hopefully.
Again the pilot chuckled: "There, you are in luck. To Nome, Alaska to open a bush flying service. Speaking of which, we should be getting in the air. Can't let the sudden appearance of my lifetime hero keep me out of the air."
Balto grinned in reply.
"Well, seeing as we understand eachother, literally and figuratively...", the pilot spoke, shuffling through checklists, "You probably ought to alert the others. To say this is an anomoly would be a massive understantment."
Nodding in agreement, Balto padded back to the baggage compartment. Ducking his head into the compartment he surveyed his sleeping family.
"Jenna?", he whispered.
"Balto...? What are you doing out there? Are you all right?", Jenna whispered, a tinge of panic in her voice.
"Hey Jen, good news."
Balto smiled, dispelling Jenna's fears.
"What is it Balto?", Jenna questioned, her voice relaxing slightly.
"Were going home, in location anyway.", Balto spoke reassuringly as he dragged the newspaper to Jenna, showing her the headline.
Silently Jenna skimmed it, then recolied suddenly.
"Ninety years...", she breathed.
"Well at least we aren't alone. Come on out Jen, theres no need to hide anymore."
Reluctantly Jenna crawled from the recess and was greeted by the comparitively spacious interior. She drew a deep breath, glad to be free of the compartment. She fallowed Balto down the narrow isle between the seat rows. The cockpit door hung open lazily. Balto leapt into the cockpit, then looked back at Jenna. She approched slowly, hopping Balto's trust in the pilot was not displaced. Gingerly she climbed up beside him. The pilot turned from his checklists to greet the canines.
"J-Jenna?", he inquired, a look of amazment in his eyes.
Jenna looked at Balto inquisitively, who answered her with a nod, then back at the pilot.
"Y...yes.", Jenna tried
"My god, you too.", The pilot exhaled.
"You can... understand me? Jenna inquired softly.
"Yeah...", the pilot replied. "Though how is still a bit of a mystery. The only lead I have on it is the referances to experiments preformed during your flight in the article. They were not discribed."
Jenna sat, a puzzled expression on her face.
Seeing Jenna's expression, the pilot shook his head. "You and me both." He whispered.
Jenna studied the pilot. He was tall, and gangly. His thick, dark hair hung slightly down the back of his neck, partially obscuring the strap from which a large Nikon camera hung. He seemed at home in his airplane, so much so that he was able to accept that he was being visited by his old heros within its aluminum fusulage.
"Oh, I'm sorry.", the pilot interuped Jenna's analysis, "Name's Ken. I'm a computer programmer, 3d modeler, and newly minted pilot, not that half of that means anything to you. You've got ninety years to catch up on. Well, I guess I've got a flight's worth of explanation ahead of me. Again, can't let the sudden appearance of my old heros keep me grounded."
With that, Ken opened a cockpit window, and shouted "CLEAR LEFT" into the warm Summer evening, then flipped the starter ot the left, and shattered the morning silence with the throb of a radial engine. "CLEAR RIGHT" he yelled, flipping the starter to the right. The right engine thundered to life, falling into rythmic harmony with the left.
"Time to go.", Ken smiled, "When we get in the air i'll do what I can to sumarize the last ninety years into a few hours.

Balto settled into the copilot's seat, shifting to allow Jenna beside him.
"North Coast ground, Douglas 235BK at fuel, VFR departure to the north with Kilo.", Kenneth spoke crisply.
"Douglas 235BK Taxi to runway 22 via Bravo", came the response.
"Douglas 235BK Taxi to runway 22 via Bravo", Kenneth confirmed.
With that, Balto felt the brakes release, and the aircraft lurch into motion. Kenneth taxied the bird nibly onto the taxyway, and began chasing the thin yellow line in the evening's setting sun. After a brief roll, he brought the airplane to a stop just short of the runway, stepped heavily on both brakes, and gunned the engines briefly, scanning the panel as he did so, briefly crossreferancing a checklist, then throttled back down. A quick control surface check satisfied him.
"North Coast tower, Douglas 35BK holding short of 22-Bravo, ready for takeoff."
"Douglas 35BK; cleared for takeoff runway 22."
"Douglas 35BK; cleared for takeoff runway 22."
With that final reiteration, the radio fell silent, as Kenneth taxied onto the massive strip of concrete shimmering with heat haze. Instinctively, he glanced up, flipping a few switches on the overhead panel and quickly twisted a dial. His hand fell back on the throttle quatrant, punching the mixture to full rich, then slowly advancing the throttle. Balto felt the aircraft accelerate. He watched the runway lines flash by. Then, gradually, he himself leaving the Earth behind. He felt a sensation with no name, no other comparison. The sensation of flying. Kenneth pulled the bird into a gentle climb, simaltaniously rolling the trim wheel back, then relaxing the yoke. The DC-3 settled into a steady climb, the roar of its engines settling into a harmonized drone. Balto gazed at the star-sprinkled evening canvas spread before him. He couldn't identify the fealing. Perhaps it was belonging.
Gradually, the dimming sun drowned itself in the great expanse of the Pacific. Balto watched as it finally settled into the sea, bathing the sky in brilliant orange light.
"Balto... its beautiful", Jenna whispered
"Yeah.", Balto agreed. "Beautiful."
Holding the yoke away him, Kenneth gave the trim wheel at his feet a brisk spin, slowly released his forward pressure, then, seeing the vertical speed indicator needle settle at zero, relaxed. Relinquishishing the DC-3 to its inherant stability. With a glance at the sunset, he flipped on the panel, anticollision, and nav lights, then dimmed the panel to a soft, warm glow.
Jenna yawned, and cruled beside Balto in the copilot's seat. Balto sighed, and allowed his body to relax for the first time since his mysterious arival. He glanced behind him into the cabin. Kodi and Aleu had noted that all was well, and had chosen seat rows to stretch themselves out along. Balto sighed again and gazed beyond the windscreen glass into the warm night air.
"Today,", Kenneth began absentmindedly, "Is June 25th, 2015."
Balto raised his head attentively.
"Much has changed since 1925, ninety years ago. Nearly everything you knew about the world has changed. In the 30's, commerical aviation began to take off with this very aircraft, the Douglas DC-3. It was the first aircraft to turn a profit transporting passengers. This model of airpane has had a very colorful career. Its seen passengers and cargo. Its seen paratroopers and German Tripple A. Its seen wounded men and Vietnamise flak. Its seen disaster relief crates and the famine ridden villages of Africa. Its felt the hands of thousands of pilots. Experianced airforce pilots, ambitious commercial pilots. Classic aviation enthusiasts... and...-he laughed slightly- young men with a dream. A dream to feel the thunder of its engines, a dream to soar upon its grace, a dream to make their home in the air.", Kenneth reminised.
"This plane here, November-235 Bravo Kilo, or Aleutia, informally, hasn't seen half that. But she has one hell of a legacy, and her yoke has been guided by several pilot's hands, most recently my own."
Balto gazed about the cockpit in which he sat.
"Well", Kenneth began again. "I supppose I might as well start where you left off, and where the Douglas DC-3 Dakoda picked up, 1930.
With the advent of commerical aviation, the areonautics industry grew by leaps and bounds. Then, war broke out in Europe. Germany began attacking its neighbors, including Russia, England, and France. For the first bit of the conflict, the United States kept its distance, but all that ended with the first attack on American soil. A large portion of our naval fleet lay at anchor in Pearl Harbor, in Hawaii. Without warning, the sky blackened with Japenese torpedo bombers. Despite our best efforts to thwart the attack, we lost countless men. Needless to say, this brought th US into the great war, raging in Japan and Europe. The conflict had become the second world war, and the stage was set for the most taxing conflict in history, both in money and in life. In the middle of its battles, the DC-3 felt the sting of German tracers for the first time, and in over the Pacific, the club of Japanese flak.
With this war, came increadible advancements in aviation as well as many other technologies. That war would bring us the legendary P-51 mustang, the B-17 stratofortress, and the very first jet aircraft.The war ended with an economic boom, and aviation continued to surge forward. Soon, jets had taken their place upon the wings of commercial aircraft.
Then... then came computers. Machines capable of solving complex mathematical problems utalizing a series of ones and zeros known as Binary code transmitted in the form of electrical currents through a circuit. It took very little time for the computer to rise to prominence, and to find its way into the home of every family. Its technology grew at an increadible rate, rendering complex 3d graphics by late 1990, but before computers could evolve, war struck again in, in 1955, this time with North Vietnam, in defense of our South Vietnamise allies. It was over the jungles of Vietnam that the DC-3 would first feel the pressure of a guided missile lock. The war raged into the 70s.
Even during the conflict technology raged. In 1969, the Apollo mission was launched aboard a massive Saturn V rocket. By then we had already made it to space. Apollo was on its way to the moon. Several days later, the "Eagle" lander felt the soft lunar dust beneath its stand. At that moment, all of America eroupted in cheers, from Cape Canaveral, Florida, to Wales, Alaska.
Time continued on. Countless advancements were made. Finally, in 1995, I came along. The origins for my passion for aviation are still a mystery to me, but that passion ran firmly in my blood. For the first thirteen years I could only dream, unitl one August evening in 2010, when I finally took to the air with a bird under my command. A tiny Cessna 172. I brought myself through flight school with pride. I knew this was what I belonged doing since the first time my hands gripped a yoke. I knew that was where I belonged. You play a bigger part in getting me there then you know. Your story always provided moral support.
As soon as I was old enough to qualify for a Pilot's lisense, I took and passed my checkride. I immediately enrolled again to get my insturment and multi engine ratings. It did not take me very long. Having aquired those two ratings, I found this plane, my dream plane. It sat on an internet page with a for sale anotation. It was dirt cheap, compared to modern airplanes, it was beautiful, and it served my every purpose. I loved and still love it. Its been a joy to fly it here, in California, but as Robert Service once said, "The Wilderness, its calling me." I figured it was time I answered. It was time I fufilled my lifelong dreams, it was time I become a bush pilot. This plane, she will get the medicine through. Always.
Balto gazed at the stars shinning thorugh the thin atmosphere above. Mezomorized by the static specticle. He yawned slowly.
"Tired?"
"Yeah, quite.", Balto replied.
Kenneth dimmed the panel lights further to a soft, pleasent glow with a slight orange cast.
"Go ahead. We've got a lot of flying ahead of us still."
Balto settled back into his seat, and let the thob of the engines engulf him.


Kenneth relaxed his grip on the yoke, and sat back, gazing upon the sprawling urban lights beneath him. They shown brightly, with a faint, beautiful cast that cannot be precived from the ground. He sighed. Slowly, to himself he sang: "Reach for the light, you might touch the sky..."








Ugh, still haven't managed to drag myself out of the exposition. Sorry if I'm rambling

Also, let me apologize for my use of aviation terminology that may not be clear to everyone, I did have an ulterior motive in writing this: a study aid. Figured writing it in prose context might help me memorize, and so far it has. Ill try not to get too specific on ya. In the final post to the main site ill toss unclear definitions into the description or perhaps the text itself. Anyone with a question please ask so I know what I need to explain.

Wow this is impressive! I can understand some aviation terms since I was (and still am a bit) of an aviation fan

That's 'cause you're lookin' at the bowl half empty.









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