How big is Djibouti?

That’s right, I’m going to Djibouti. I love saying “Djibouti”, and all the 3rd grade humor that it brings to mind. This will be my first time in Djibouti (excuse me). Today I’m making my way to London for a 24-hour layover.
It was a great day for flying to Chicago today; mostly clear skies from Boise to the Bad Lands of South Dakota. The view must have been fantastic from up front. From my economy “plus” seat I saw some of the Frank Church Wilderness, the Grand Tetons, some of Yellowstone and Cody, Wyoming. Some of my favorite flying was done in this part of the country. Back then I flew a lot lower and slower. For almost six years I flew for a company called American Check Transport. We flew mostly bank checks; this flying is obsolete now, but at one point hundreds of planes filled America’s skies (mostly at night) every banking day moving around billions of dollars in canceled bank checks.
I flew a Navajo (PA-31) all over the inter mountain west. The longest flying day at American Check was flying out and back to Cody, Wyoming. As I recall we started from Salt Lake about 5:00am and made stops in Rocksprings, Lander, and Worland before resting in Cody. Resting consisted of trying to sleep in a semi-heated hanger on a couch in an old sleeping bag after shooting 4 approaches to minimums, knowing the weather was forecast to get uglier for the flight home. You may ask yourself why would anyone willingly fly a 30-year-old piston plane through the mountain snow and ice of Wyoming for little more than minimum wage. I can only say that if you ask that question you must not be a pilot (and if you are, you must have gotten your training in the military). It was all about time. Seven plus hours of flying a day! And on top of that, all of it would be in the clouds with 8 approaches! I was told that if I could survive a winter in the mountains, I would make a good pilot. That’s all I ever wanted.
In the summer time I would fly low and run with the wild horses over the plateau between Worland and Cody, fly down mountain passes between Grand Junction and Durango and dodge thunderstorms flying into Salt Lake (later we flew in the Midwest were I learned how to dodge real thunderstorms) without radar. I can’t think of a better job; they gave me an airplane with no supervision! It’s a quirk of not just the aviation industry that hardest jobs pay the least amount of money. Back then I flew alone, at night, with no radar, no gps, no moving map at altitudes right in the worse of the weather. Today I never fly alone and have all the fancy avionics (moving map with weather radar overlay and FMS): I fly above most of the weather and I don't have to load the cargo – the younger me worked much harder.

A video the Benson wanted to do. Jackson is on the camera.