Wyatt was inspecting a communications facility in Alaska.
Since he had little experience in flying in small planes, he was a bit jittery when they approached a landing strip in a snow-covered area.
The pilot descended to just a couple hundred feet, then gunned both engines, climbed, and circled back. While Wyatt’s heart pounded, the passenger beside him seemed calm.
“I wonder why he didn’t land,” said Wyatt.
“He was checking to see if the landing strip was plowed,” the man said.
As a second approach was made, Wyatt glanced nervously out the window. “It looks plowed to me,” he commented.
“No,” said his seat mate. “It hasn’t been cleared for some time.”
“How can you tell?” Wyatt asked.
“Because,” the man informed him, “I’m the guy who drives the plow.”
