I was nervous sitting at the end of the runway. The tower cleared me for take off. I took a deep breath and pushed the throttle to full power. In the cold dense air, my take off run wouldn’t be much even with three drop tanks full to the top with gas. The Corsair quickly picked up speed and leapt off the runway. I climbed to altitude and was over water.
Water, endless water stretched in front of me. I would be over water for the next six hours. This was a long jump and all of it was over freezing water. I had little hope that if I went down on this leg I would be rescued before the cold sapped the strength from me. Maybe I could get the raft inflated. Maybe I could crawl aboard after a crash landing, maybe… That’s why I was nervous.
One nice thing about the Corsair is that it already had an HF radio installed. When you travel over the ocean you are supposed to keep in contact with ATC using HF radio, which is the only radio that bends around the curve of the Earth. The other radios on a plane are all line of sight and don't work out there. Most small planes have to get a new HF radio if they travel out of sight of land. So on schedule I'd call in and check in so the ATC knew I hadn't gone down out there in the middle of nowhere. The only problem is that HF is nortoriously fickle. Luckily, it worked for me through the whole fight.
Half way through the flight I could see Greenland to the north. It was covered by ice, in some places 7,000 of ice. Oh yeah, the retreating ice in Greenland because of global warming: it’s coming back. If I had trouble now I could probably make it to the coast. But the engine hummed along and on I flew. After three hours I was stretching and moving to keep the blood going. Even in the middle of summer it was cold and I had the engine air on to heat the cockpit. It worked, a little.
I wasn’t nervous any more; bored, yes; nervous, no. On and on the engine hummed, the prop turned and the GPS counted down the miles. I checked the computer to make sure that I had sufficient fuel to make it to Iceland while Greenland was still close enough to divert. I had emptied both internal and external wing tanks and the belly tank and was on main fuel by now. The computer said I had plenty of fuel. I was ahead of schedule, meaning I had a pretty good trailing wind pushing me along, a good omen I felt.
Before me was a wall of white clouds. I had checked the weather before takeoff and it looked clear. I checked again with the on board weather and there were clouds ahead but nothing that looked dangerous, so on I went. It turned out there was a layer of clouds, but it was too low to affect commercial jets and too high to do much to me. The sun went away and I was under a heavy layer of clouds but didn’t get any rain.
Thirty miles out from Reykjavik, I called in to control. My control movements were touchy now. The Corsair is so nimble it seems like it reads your mind, you think about a turn and the plane is turning. Now, I was jinking all over because the muscles in my arms and legs were tired. Left handed, I tried to fly straight and level as I rested my right arm. I’m not really very good left handed and the plane could tell, veering right and left, up and down. It sure woke me up. But I did get the right arm responding again.
I could see the mountains of Iceland. Control brought me straight in. The airport is south of the city, and right near the ocean. I had to make two turns, one south then one east again to line up. I guess there wasn’t much traffic because I came straight in and landed. Nice thing about the Corsair, even though I hit hard, those struts, designed for carrier landings, absorbed it, and it still looked and felt like an easy landing.
After I checked the plane and had it bedded down, I went into the hotel that is right on the airport and checked in.
I was tired, but had been looking forward to the blonde goddesses of Iceland since I first thought up this trip. No way was I letting a little tiredness keep me away. I showered and changed clothes into my one sporty outfit, and headed out and about.
I was wandering around looking like a tourist when I spotted a coffee house. Slightly chilled, it sounded good. The waitress was right out of a tourism poster for Iceland: blonde, sweet faced, with ice blue eyes. I was in love. I ordered coffee and found out she knew enough English to converse. I found out her name was Lilja. When she found out I had flown my own plane in she demanded I take her to see it. I agreed only if she would join me for dinner and she happily agreed. She told me to come back at 6:00 when she got off work for the day.
It was two in the afternoon at that point so I went back to my hotel and took a nap, hoping I’d need my energy later. I was glad I had.
At six, I was at the door of the coffee shop when Lilja emerged. She grabbed my arm and led me to her scooter. I imagined this thing was okay in the summer but not much use in the winter. She gave me a little helmet as she put hers on. I sat behind her, glad to put my arms around her waist and snuggle in behind. I found out that Lilja had attended the Evel Knieval school of driving. We zoomed in and out of traffic. I wanted to close my eyes, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t see the moment of my death which was coming any second.
We blasted through the city and soon were heading for the airport. She turned and looked back at me, an incredible smile on her face. I saw the truck turning onto the road past her shoulder and screamed. Lilja managed to turn between the truck and the oncoming traffic by riding the median, cursing [I think] in Icelandic as she went by the truck. She kept her eyes to the front the rest of the way to the airport.
When she pulled up outside the General Aviation area I had pointed her to, I jumped off the back of that demon cycle, and thanked the lord I was alive. I had no idea how I would get back downtown but it wasn’t going to be on that thing with her driving. Once my knees quit wobbling, I led Lilja out to my plane. Her face went from beaming smile to scowl. “How do I fly in that?”
“Do you have a pilot’s license?” I asked. She shook her head, sadly. “Then you don’t,” I finished. And believe me, I’m a medium guy and I just barely fit in the cockpit. There was NO way to put a second person in it.
“But I want to fly,” she pouted.
I saw my opportunity of getting, um, close with a blonde goddess slipping away. I looked around and saw several small planes including some Cessnas. I led her back in the terminal and found the flight ops. Checking, I found out there was a flying club that might, might, be willing to rent me a plane. The ops guy sent me off to the club, a hanger next door.
Lilja was smiling again as we entered the club. I explained my predicament, with Lilja adding a lot of Icelandic, of which I understood nothing, except the sweet tone, and what guy can resist that tone in a woman’s voice. Finally, beat down, the club manager said he’d rent me a plane but I’d have to do a check flight with him; just take off, go around, and land, so he could be sure I knew how to fly. I had told him about flying over, but he already had been out to see the Corsair, along with half the people at the airport, so he knew I could fly. He was just being careful, like a good pilot should.
We climbed into a 172 after I pre-flighted it. I called into the tower and we taxied out and took off. It sure felt different being back in a Cessna, taking forever to gain altitude. We flew out over the peninsula, up the coast for a bit when he nodded. I called back to the tower and got in pattern, landed, and taxied over to the club.
Lilja came running up and stuck her head in the door that I had opened. The manager asked, “How long do you want the plane?”
I looked to Lilja. “I want to see the glacier and Hekla.”
I looked back at the club manager, “Volcano. I show you on map.” He led us back into the club and a giant wall map. The glacier and volcano were just minutes, by air, from the airport.
I nodded, “One hour.” He nodded back and handed me the key.
I took Lilja back out to the plane and helped her strap in, got in, and we were off. Iceland is a funny bit of land. Two continental plates are literally ripping in half under the middle of the Atlantic, and as they rip apart, magma comes pouring up. Iceland is literally growing from the middle as new magma fills up the space as the two sides move, one towards Europe, one towards North America. Around these areas of volcanic activity, the land was so alien that the lunar astronauts practiced there. Away from the active volcanoes, the island is green and verdant with long summers and moderated winters from being surrounded by the ocean which keeps it from getting too damn cold.
We climbed out from the airport and headed off to the volcanoes. Lilja’s head was on a swivel, laughing, oohing, and gasping in surprise at how much she could see from the air. “Oh, look, I can even tell what cars there are.”
“Have you ever been up in a plane?” I asked.
“No, I’ve never been anywhere. Where would I fly on Iceland?” she said, laughing.
Good point. We saw the steam and smoke as I maneuvered around the volcanoes. Just a bit away was a glacier. What a contrast, truly a land of fire and ice. I headed further out towards the Loki volcano before turning back to Reykjavik. Lilja kept her face to the window on the entire flight.
Once down and taxied back, she threw her arms around my neck and planted a big kiss on me, “Thank you so much. I didn’t think I would ever see so much from the air.”
“I’m hungry. Let’s go get some dinner,” I suggested.
I had forgotten her scooter. When I saw the death machine, I blanched. “Lilja, can I try driving the scooter?”
“You want to drive?” I nodded. “Okay.” She handed me the helmet and the key. I got the thing started and off we went, at half the speed she had maintained. She pointed out the directions downtown until yelling, “Here,” while pointing to a restaurant. I pulled in front of the building and parked the scooter. She took my hand and pulled me into the restaurant, an Icelandic place, mostly filled with locals.
She led me back to a table. The waitress appeared and Lilja chatted with her. Pretty soon, a couple large beers were before us, making me happy. “Prosit.” We clinked beers and each took a sip.
I asked about Iceland and Lilja asked about flying. We laughed and talked until dinner came, local fish with potatoes and vegetables, laughed and talked some more. Oh, and those clean crisp beers kept coming. I blame what happened on the beers. When the bill came, I scooped it up. Lilja was actually a little mad that I was grabbing the bill. She really thought she should pay her own way; I wasn’t her husband. When I said, ‘Yet,’ she got real quiet and I figured I had messed up.
So there I was, full on Icelandic beer and feeling a little unsettled, kind of morose. That’s why I did what I did, crawled on the back of that scooter and let her drive. It was only when she tore out into traffic I remembered, and instantly regretted my decision. Zoom, between two cars, whoosh, around a corner barely missing a car turning the opposite way, bouncing over a pothole that I grabbed a generous amount of her chest to keep from flying off. She slapped my hand which was holding on to her left breast for life itself. As I managed to get seated on the scooter again, I slid my hand down to her waist.
Lilja went round a curve full blast as I saw the pavement coming closer to my knee and I thought briefly that I’d be less hurt if I jumped before the crash. Then, the brakes screeched and magically, I was still alive, in front of my hotel. I stumbled getting off the scooter. Lilja took off her helmet and shook her head causing her blonde hair to wave like some shampoo commercial, silky and shiny in the sunlight. It took my breath away and my mind off everything else. What scooter? She stored the helmets on her scooter, took my arm, and led me into the hotel.
We went straight to my room. My mood went through about twenty different emotions, from the time we walked in the door, until I closed the room door behind us. Even though it was late, the sun was still above the horizon and light poured in the window. Lilja closed the blinds, turned to me and smiled, then came into my arms planting a kiss on me that I’ll always remember. She sort of melted against me and everything else went away except this lovely blonde girl in my arms.
I was unsure what to expect and so I followed her lead. It didn’t take long to figure out. “Let’s get in bed,” she said in one break from kissing.
“Okay,” I sad agreeably.
She started skinning out of her clothes and I raced to not get left behind. She laughed as I tripped trying to get my pants off my feet while still watching her. Damn, but she was beautiful. As she pushed off her panties, she looked up to see me naked, my cock pulsing pointing straight at her. She laughed, “Oh, you look very ready.”
“Um, yes,” was all I could come up with.
She pulled back the cover and climbed into bed. I climbed in on the other side. We lay for a moment, our eyes locked. “Don’t you want to make love to me?” she asked smiling.
That broke all my reticence. I growled playfully and pounced on her. We wrestled for a bit until I was atop her, our lips just an inch apart. She quit struggling. Our lips met and we kissed, the passion building. I kissed her neck, then moved down to her perfect tits. Her nipples were already standing up as my tongue licked them before sucking them into my mouth. Lovingly laving them with my tongue, I watched as Lilja moaned in pleasure.
Kissing down across her flat tight belly, I reached my goal. As my tongue slid between her labia, I looked up across her perfect body to her icy blue eyes, now alight with fire, my own volcano among the glaciers. I drove my tongue deeper into her and lashed upwards. Lilja’s head fell back and a moan escaped her lips as my tongue lashed across her clitoris.
I made love to her with my lips and tongue until her hips were rocking up and off the bed. Quickly, I slid over her body lined up my cock with her pussy, and pressed forward. She was hot and ready and I slid easily into her. “Ya,” she moaned.
Her eyes opened and stared up at me, lust on her face. I began moving in her, slowly at first. Her hands went round my butt, pulling me into her. Encouraged, I sped up. She met me on every stroke. Our breath came in gasps as we fucked faster and faster and still her hands pulled me into her harder and stronger.
I looked down at her face, so beautiful, but now concentrated on lust. Her mouth open, she moaned and began shouting, I had no idea what but I could tell it was the Icelandic equivalent of ‘Fuck me hard, I’m cumming.’ I did. Her pussy spasmed around my cock, milking it. That set me off. I felt the rumbles deep in my balls and then the first blast as I emptied my cum, jet after jet streaming into the woman below me.
I fell beside her. She snuggled into my side and we pulled the sheets up over us. That was the last thing I remembered that night.
I woke up in the morning, the sun already well up in these high Northern latitudes with the bright light trying to find ways around the blinds, with Lilja in my arms. She was delightfully naked. I stared at her perfection. I’m not sure a painter could have done her justice. Only by staring and seeing every little bit of her could a man appreciate just how beautiful she was. I found myself getting hard.
She stretched a little, purred, and rolled towards me, her hand wrapping around my cock. “Look what I have. Is this a present for me?”
I smiled and nodded, already excited, as her little hand slid up and down my cock sending chills through me.
A look of lust crossed her face, “Good. I will be back.” She hopped up and headed for the bathroom. It was only then that I noticed a certain backpressure in the plumbing. After she came out, I went in, brushed my teeth, peed, washed the prime areas quickly and was back in bed in no time.
Lilja opened her arms as I came in and we were kissing our bodies pressed together. I was back in paradise.
A little while later my stomach was grumbling. I got up and showered. When I came out, Lilja was talking on her phone wearing her top and panties. Damn, but she was sexy and I had just been drained by her minutes before. She finished and hung up. “I have reservations for breakfast at the hotel. Best brunch in the city. Hurry. Get dressed,” she commanded.
I had expected to leave that morning for the next hop, but there was no way I could leave Lilja in that hotel room and go to the airport. I didn’t say a word about being scheduled to leave that morning. Instead, we dressed and I took her for breakfast in the hotel she had booked, a Scandinavian smorgasbord. We both got out fair share of calories to replace those expended. After breakfast, Lilja took my hand and led me to the windows looking out over the city. “You are leaving today?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
She looked puzzled. “Is there something wrong with the plane?”
I smiled, “No.”
“Then why you no leave?” she asked.
“I was hoping someone might invite me to stay, to show me more of Iceland,” I said.
Her face was very serious, “Are you sure?” I nodded. Like the sun emerging from behind a black cloud, her face lit up, she threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me. She grabbed my hand pulling me to the door. She handed me the helmet as she put hers on.
“Uh, Sweetie, uh, can I drive?”
She looked puzzled, “But you don’t know where to go.”
“You can be the navigator,” I said hopefully.
She shrugged, “If this is what you want.”
I jumped on the scooter and she got on behind me. She pointed and off we went. The next few days flew by in a rush. She took me to see all the sights of Reykjavik. She borrowed a four-wheel drive from a friend and we went out into the back country to places where the island was literally ripping apart, growing as we watched. I laughed just from being with her and she laughed, whether at me or not I didn’t care. Just looking at her face was enough.
I was falling madly in love. I knew the feeling, having done it once before, but the way that ended could not stop the plunge into love once started. What is Johnson’s quote, “A second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience.” I think we cannot stop that feeling once is happens, and why would we? The entire world is brighter.
And always, our lovemaking, quiet one moment, wild and abandoned the next, filled the days with pleasure.
We were lying in bed, happy after our lovemaking. Lilja had her head on my chest and was playing with my chest hair. “Michael,” she said very seriously. “When will you go?”
“Do you want me to go?” I asked.
“This trip, this around the world, it means very much to you?”
I had forgotten about the trip around the world, so happy to be with my little blonde goddess. But once reminded, it all came back. Quietly, “Yes, it does.”
“This I know. You must finish your trip. Maybe you will come back to Iceland, but now you need to go,” she said.
“But, Lilja…”
She put her finger over my lips. “It will be difficult enough.” She jumped out of bed. “Come, let us get clean, then I will see you off at the airport.”
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Copyright Rod O'Steele © 2008