In a plane from Lima to Cuzco – 1965

So, there we were, Steve Dennis and me, on a prop plane, unpressurized, flying to from Lima to Cuzco, Peru. We were on our way to Macchu Picchu. Steve was from a West-Texas sheep ranching family south of Lubbock. He was a tall, slim, glasses red neck! We got along together as he considered Louisiana as the East and NM as the Far West and I’m not kidding. He worked with the Kuna Indians in the far jungles east of the canal zone( living with missionaries and Indians who spoke English from having lived and worked in the Canal Zone – he never did learn Spanish!). I worked with the Guaymi’s 250 miles to the east of the Panama City, near the “frontera” with Costa Rica.

Anyway, Steve would go with me anywhere as he liked to travel and I spoke the language (English and Spanish!).  We had been in Columbia and Ecuador and now were heading to the land of the Incas – places I had read about as a child. By the way, this is 1965, I was 21 or 22! And I’ll tell the stories of this trip some other time.

Now about the plane. So we are flying in a plane at high altitude with little tubes held by our noses giving us oxygen. Cuzco is some 11 or 12 thousand feet up in the Andes and we needed the oxygen. So I’m reading and my air stops so I look at Steve and he has set his nozzle down so I figured that they had turned it off. A short time passes and I look at others and they all still have the oxygen aimed at their faces and now I look at Steve and he holds up my hose that he had been pinching shut and he laughed!!!! Oh, I did get him back and I’ll tell you about that when I talk about walking with him amongst the tiny Indians in Cuzco. Another story.

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