It’s supposed to be at 8:15, so…. sometime between 9:00 and 10:30

June 20, 2008 at 1:54 am · Filed under alaska, atquasuk, Barrow, travel and tagged: airplanes, airports, hotel

I anticipate that Jeremy and I will be doing plenty of waiting for planes in the coming weeks. There are scheduled flights that do a Barrow-Atqasuk-Wainwright loop three times a day, but variables such as weather, indifference, and simply being an airline keep the flights from following a strict timetable. Fortunately, in Atqasuk, we can see the “airport” from the house as well as the welcoming committee driving out to meet the plane. The welcoming committee consists of a cop who is meant to monitor the traffic of alcohol and the local mail-and-everything-else-of-consequence guy; these two have some sort of mystical connection with the plane that allows them to be aware of its movements while the rest of the town is calling Barrow every five minutes to ask when the plane is going to arrive.

We had a pleasant flight this morning since once again the weather cleared up in both places. Last time we flew on the little single-propeller plane we were five of seven passengers and had only a single pilot to manage the twenty minute trip. Today we had co-pilots, though we were the only two passengers, and we had to climb through the co-pilot’s door because the rest of the cabin was filled up with our only other companion: an ATV.

I watched the plane’s shadow during the short and easy flight. At least, I assumed it was easy, since our pilots were playing Trivial Pursuit during the journey. Jeremy and I were not asked to join.

After spending years of my life firmly on the ground, I have suddenly experienced many airports, and all in the space of a week. Some, like those in Fairbanks and Grand Rapids, were under construction, while I barely got to see the airports in Minneapolis and Barrow, the former because we were running to catch the connecting flight on time, and the latter because it was jam-packed with those arriving, those departing, and the people who were merely expecting some sort of freight.

My favorite airport so far is definitely the other Barrow airport. The jam-packed one is the official Alaska Airlines terminal, while Frontier, who we use on the weekly flights to Atqasuk, occupies the old pre-metal detectors Alaska Airlines building. Other than the usual door into the building from the street, the only exit is the door with a piece of paper saying “Gate F7” taped to it that leads out back to the runway.

I’m hoping that Gates A7 through E7, or Gates F1 through F6, or A1 through F6 or WHATEVER, are actually secret portals hidden around town that we have to discover in order to be worthy of the magical adventures they undoubtedly lead to.

Since we were gone a whole three nights (or two, in the case of my roommate), the hotel in Barrow found it necessary to move Jean and I unannounced from one room to another while we were away. Though the rooms are nearly identical, they had the decency to move us to a room with a nicer desk chair, and plumper pillows… not to mention that ROOM FOUR is right next door to the bathroom. I guess that’s worth having all my stuff schlepped down the hall without the benefit of first closing the zipper on my suitcase.

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