Free Hidden Courage (Atlantis) by Christopher David Petersen Page A

determined that the field sat at an elevation of about 11,700 feet.
     
    “Ok, fun’s over. Time to get the hell out of here,” Jack said to himself as he stared at the imposing mountain in front of him.
     
    He added full power, banked hard left and circled out away from the mountain as he slowly climbed.
     
    “Climb, baby, climb,” Jack shouted out as the engine strained in the rarified air.
     
    Keeping an eye on the field, he flew away from the mountain until he was a mile or so away. As he reached 12,200 feet on the altimeter - 500 feet above the field – he started to slowly bank back toward the mountain. Coming back around, he stared at the snowfield.
     
    “Damn, that thing looks smaller than my mom and dad’s backyard,” Jack said, his anxiety now peaking.
     
    With as much determination as he could find, he took a deep breath and headed to the right side of the tiny snowfield.
     
    Jack reduced the power to almost idle and lowered the flaps to the final setting. He pushed the control stick forward and lowered the nose of the plane, once again drawing in the impressive view.
     
    Heading for the ridgeline on the right side of the snowfield, Jack examined the ragged cliff that rose up from its base. He could see massive blocks of rock and ice that had fallen off the wall and landed at the base of the cliff.
     
    “Holy shit, some of those blocks are as big as a house,” he exclaimed.
     
    The sight of such a powerful and dangerous environment sent a chill through his body. Wiping the nervous sweat from his hands, he regripped the control stick and focused intently on his descent.
     
    Now stabilized and descending at five hundred feet per minute, Jack checked his speed and heading: fifty knots and heading exactly west as displayed on his gyroscopic compass.
     
    The excitement and fear sent Jack’s heart pounding wildly. He could see his jacket expanding and contracting with each pulse.
     
    Once again, his hands trembled and became slippery with sweat. He wiped them off on his pants and then shook them out in the air, one by one.
     
    Jack could see that the winds were blowing to the north, as the tiny plane drifted off-course with the wind. He turned slightly into the wind to counter the drift, finding a heading that kept him moving in a straight line. The altimeter continued unwinding, now down to 11,950 feet; 250 feet above the field.
     
    Jack sharpened his focus further now, scanning the instruments, then the field, back to the instruments and then back to the field again in an unending cycle that resulted in precision flying.
     
    Wiping the nervous sweat from his brow, he noticed his speed had dropped slightly below fifty knots. Jack added two hundred rpm of power, stabilizing the speed at fifty. As he flew lower, he was continuously buffeted by turbulence that forced him to ‘work’ the throttle in a constant struggle to maintain his proper speed. It was exhausting and stressful work.
     
    Jack peered out the pilot’s side window. Looking down, he was no longer flying over the frightening and treacherous valley that led up to the snowfield. He was now directly over the snowfield and flying up it’s right side.
     
    He looked back at his altimeter. He was now 200 feet above the field and less than 1,000 feet away from the mountain.
     
    The mountain in front of him, Destination B, towered 5,500 feet above him as he stared at it through his windshield.
     
    “Holy shit! That thing’s big,” he said as his slowly banked left into the wind.
     
    Jack looked to his right. He had now descended below the northern ridge. Suddenly, he was hit by a burst of turbulence from the south, striking the plane broadside on the left and shoving it dangerously close to the ridge and drifting closer.
     
    “Whoa!” he cried out in fear.
     
    The plane immediately drifted to less than a hundred feet from the cliff. He could see the plane’s shadow cast onto the mountain’s face as he inched closer. Jack