I woke up instantly when a hand gripped my arm and a small voice asked “Why aren’t we going OVER the mountain? I had drifted off to sleep almost before the small, four-seat ‘bush’ plane had left the runway. We were going to be flying around some stormy weather on our way from Brevig Mission to Nome, and since I have a tendency to get airsick I had hoped to sleep through it. The elderly Iñupiaq woman next to me was staring out the window, where I could now clearly…
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