Someone recently reprinted this Far Side cartoon and it brought back memories … and you have the dubious privilege of having me tell of them.

Sometime back in the early 90s, I had a job supervising aerial oil surveys over the upper headwaters of the Amazon and foothills of the east slope of the Andes in eastern Peru. “Supervising” being a relative term; it was me and the pilot.

We left from a small private airport east of Denver (which no longer exists) and flew by hops down to Pucallpa, Peru (8°23′S 74°31′W; 500ft elevation) where we based operations. Pucallpa is the regional capital and sits on the banks of the Ucayali River, the primary headwater of the Amazon River.

We buzzed around over the jungles at the eastern foothills of the Andes in a plane like this one: a Piper Aztec (after flying it down from Denver). There were the two front seats and 4 passenger seats – in our case, the passenger seats were removed and the cargo space filled with survey and recording equipment. A video recorder was pointed straight down through a hole in the fuselage and the magnetic field sensors were located at the end of a 10-foot stinger off the rear tail.

For some reason, this seemed to attract the attention of the DEA …

It also attracted the attention of the Sendero Luminoso. The latter shot at us, the former didn’t (I think) … but they were very, very interested.

We were based at the military side of the airport which led to some interesting situations but all was good.

Don’t drink the water, use ice cubes, or eat fresh vegetables in a third-world on a first-world stomach.

So to the point of this story:

We were buzzing around on gridded flight patterns that were very similar to plowing a field: 100 km one way, turn around, shift over a few km, repeat in the other direction. Repeat as necessary. 6 days a week for 3 months.

I was the equipment operator; this required me to be prone on top of a platform between the equipment. On one of our flights, I heard the pilot telling me to hang on.

It’s wet in the equatorial jungle. Makes Seattle look dry. Clouds form at the uplift of the mountains. GPS didn’t really exist yet, the region was not fully surveyed.

The ceiling of this plane is just shy of 19,000 ft. The Andes rise to over 20,000 feet. We came out of the clouds and saw dirt. And trees. One should not see dirt and trees in front of you when staring out the front window of an airplane at 15,000 feet.

All I could do was grip the equipment rails and try to hold still so as to not upset the balance of the plane. I didn’t know this plane could perform this maneuver. We pulled up and over … and headed back to base; that was enough flying for the day.

When we landed, the pilot told me he had undergone a transformation: “I took off as a man; I landed as a chicken“.

One does not expect a camera pointed down from an airplane to record images of the undersides of leaves …

When the surveys were completed, we flew back to Lima, and the pilot took the plane back home to Denver; I took the opportunity to visit Machu Picchu.

Another tale, same trip …

While in Lima, I arranged to join an English-speaking tour group to Cusco. I was accepted (Yankee dollars) but I was the last-minute addition. Caught the red-eye flight out of Lima (sea level) to Cusco (11,000 ft). Only a bit over 1 hour flight

Cusco is in a valley … the mountains surrounding Cusco rise to over 20,000 feet.

So anyway, being the last-minute tail-end Charlie of the group, I had to stay at a different hotel than the one the tour group had booked – Cusco is a tourist town after all, it was August, and the hotels were booked. The group I was with were Europeans and Australians just coming in from the Galapagos; I was the only American. They didn’t hate us then.

It was an early AM flight; I got dropped off first at a place the tour company arranged for me and the rest of the group went to their hotel.

Coffee. It’s time for coffee.

I was the only person in this dining room. Not even staff.

All of a sudden, some little guy came out of the back, presented me with a cup of camomile tea – so I thought, and left before I could speak (No habla Espanol).

“Wait a minute! I want some coffee!“

But the tea was hot and it was cold out. Took a sip.

“Wow! That’s better than coffee!“

Turned out that the camomile tea was actually coca tea. Coca is legal and common there (I could buy a box of coca leaves the size of Celestial Seasonings tea boxes for 50¢ American at the airport. I had the thought that may not be a good idea).

Everything we expect coffee to be. Wide awake and full of energy. Must be bad for you …

Turns out coca tea is a good for reducing the effects of altitude sickness. Having been adapted to Colorado altitudes (Leadville is at the same altitude), I wasn’t affected but the rest of the group were sea-level people. Serving coca tea to tourists is a routine.

Spent some time wandering around Cusco …

Having joined the group got me accommodations and tickets but I was essentially on my own; the group’s tour bus was full. Last minute Charlie effect. I hired an English-speaking guide for an auto tour of the area. Most of the drive was between 11,000 and 13,000 feet … in the valleys.

Came back then caught the train to Machu Picchu the next day. Other than the flight over (when most of the group were taking naps on the red-eye), this was the only time I was with the tour group.

Caught the flight from Cusco to Lima the next day; stayed at the Lima airport to catch an American Airlines flight to Miami, then a domestic flight back to Denver.

Worst part of the trip? Coming through the Miami airport on the way home.