As far as we know, there are only two general-aviation aircraft permitted to cross Russia this year, us and a Swiss team flying a small airplane built in 1949. By sheer chance, we meet them today in Magadan. We might be slightly eccentric, but these people are completely nuts! 1949?…cloth-covered wings?…avgas engine?…in Siberia? It’s hard to find aviation gasoline here, so when the Swiss get lucky, they fill reserve tanks for 10 hours of flight. How their bladders last that long, I don’t know.
Wednesday 27 June
The remaining cities in eastern Siberia are indeed dreadful. We dip into our emergency food rations, as the alternative would leave us perched on the porcelain for at least one week. In these parts of Siberia, swarms of mosquitoes turn day into night. These bugs laugh at insect repellant. In fact, their buzz gets louder when they smell the stuff. Bug spray seems to be an aphrodisiac to them.
We take off each day with hundreds of unwanted passengers in the cabin, which forces us to spend more time cleaning dead bugs from the inside of our windshield than the outside. Michel, who wears black gloves for the occasion, usually has the battle under control within thirty minutes after take off. I declare a cease-fire as he slaps bugs on the instrument panel, dangerously close to the ignition switch. Imagine the headline: Heli downed in Russian by mosquito.
Out of boredom, we take over the only computer at the airport and play Windows Solitaire all afternoon, effectively shutting down air traffic control in Eastern Siberia for several hours. On the bright side, there is a bar at the hotel and Russia has finally been defeated in what has become the Vodka Olympics. We’re ready to leave now.
We escaped through this hole in the fog Our last view of Siberia before crossing After escaping through a hole in the fog and crossing the Bering Straits, with water so cold it can chill a martini in seconds, we’re back in civilization. A two hour flight and a world of difference. We now have open skies, clean water and decent dial-up connections. A few days in Anchorage for the heli’s 100-hour inspection and we’ll be on our way down the coast of Canada to San Francisco. Its great to fly when and where we want with no bullshitsky in the back seat. Alaska at last.
