Dream: A friend of mine is very ill and needs a procedure. Though connections in the aviation underground, we are able to acquire a Boeing 747, which happens to have the same interior as our RV. We take off by back taxiing onto a road, then turning around and taking off on a service road that is far too narrow and short considering we are carrying a full load of fuel.
Once airborne, we contact ATC with the callsign “Conservative 325.” I ask our hijacking mastermind what the point of checking in was since we took off without a clearance, and she assured me that “he” had taken care of it.
Some time later in the flight it becomes obvious we will need to push the engines to their limits to make it over the mountains of northern Oklahoma. We end up hand-flying like stunt pilots though the canyons between. It becomes clear at one point to me that we are in Canyonlands, since I can see several natural arches I recognize. “Hey, this is Canyonlands!” I shout.
As we approach Canada, our sick passenger needs more room to lie down, so there isn’t much room in the aisle. As I look out the window, which is a screen instead of plexiglass, at the snow, I lean too far forward and fall out onto a frozen lake bed. I brush some snow away to show everyone that it had sleeted before it snowed.
My friends in the 747 land on the lake bed to pick me up, nearly crashing into an MD-11 in the process. The MD-11 is forced to use its rockets to perform an escape maneuver. Back on the flight deck, I see we have installed large picture windows in the entire plane. This doesn’t help, since I find that none of the windows seem to face forward.
Almost to the Canadian border, I am now in a simulator, working with the FAA to take remote control of the jumbo. I am told that the hijackers are damaging the engines of the jet by using a higher than normal EPR (engine pressure ratio), and that we need to get control right away. I sit at the pilots controls of the simulator and prepare to take control, but first have to go to the bathroom. To pee, I need to unzip the porta-toilet, which is important because my urine will complete the circuit that allows the remote control to work.
You have my word: I was already on about seven watch lists.
urine: nature’s duct tape.