I’m hungry and thirsty and I have to go to the bathroom. I’ve also been told, with implications of dire consequences, not to get out of my seat. It could almost be that one time in fourth grade, but no: it is 2024 and I am in seat 7B of an Alaska Airlines jet. I am also on leg #3 of my journey from Craig, Alaska, where I went for the Christmas break, to Twin Hills, Alaska, where I plan to finish out the school year without taking so much as a trip to Dillingham.

The trip has had a few bumps. Yesterday, while getting ready to leave Ketchikan, I learned that another Alaska jet, of similar type as the one I’m about to board, had an “incident” leaving the Portland, Oregon airport. Like, a window and door blew out, and they had to land in a hurry with a huge hole in the side of the plane. Nobody was seriously hurt, but there were pictures all over social media. I decided to not mention this incident to my loved ones, because whatever could one do about it, except succumb to fear and stay home?

Cue my reference to “Appointment in Baghdad,” an ancient fable about a man who tries to flee his fate and winds up heading right into same. I love that story, and a rarely pass up an opportunity to trot it out.

Anyway, my flight from Ketchikan to Anchorage, via Sitka and Juneau, was a bit late leaving, but otherwise uneventful. Leaving Anchorage this morning, I—who thought I had seen everything related to air travel delay in the Southwestern region of Alaska–encountered a new-to-me phenomenon: as we approached from the east, the Dillingham airport socked in right when we were approaching. After two unsuccessful attempts to land we headed over to King Salmon, where the sun is out and you can see for miles and miles, to get some fuel and consider our options.

As I write this, I’ve managed to score a box of water, a Kind bar, and a trip to the facilities, but I don’t know where I am going next. We are going to try Dillingham again, and, barring that, we are going back to Anchorage.

I have finally been able to get a phone call into Grant Air, with whom I have scheduled a flight from Dillingham to Twin Hills, and let them know my situation. Even if I make it to Dillingham today, I probably won’t get to Twin Hills, because the weather out there is too warm, rendering the airstrip too squishy for a plane of any size to safely land.

Hmmm. I am trying not to think too hard about the large package of frozen chicken breast fillets that I stashed, well-insulated, in the center of one of my suitcases. All I can hope for is that nobody decides to store my bags in a warm location. I should have put a “keep frozen” sticker on the bag in question, but I didn’t even remember to bring a snack. I’m surprised at myself, because I know full well that there are no amenities in the Dillingham airport. Oh, there are some restaurants, but never, in the seven years that I have been travelling in and out of the region, have I ever found even one of them to be open.

Luckily, the flight attendants are handing out snacks, and I have my book of daily meditations. Today’s meditation is, aptly enough, in part about not being a jerk when faced with a situation you don’t like but can’t change.

OK, OK. I also have a good book and my knitting, and a friendly person to talk to whom I might otherwise not have spoken to. See?  I can be nice, even in the face of considerable temptation to be otherwise.