"Seems to be coming back to you now", says the copilot as they
trundle to the gate.
"I don't recall asking you to speak... now go make sure nobody walks into a prop. I'm leaving her running".
A few minutes later, the captain takes off into the westerly breeze and brings her about for the course to Greybull.
Soon they pass the first checkpoint: a lake near the town of Byron.
Then the foothills of the Bighorn Range approach. the weather still looks good.
"Uh, captain, I know you asked me to keep quiet, but we seem to be passing Greybull now..."
"Yes, thank you very much. I hope you realize that the runway most favored by the wind is over there... I am on a right base."
The captain is a little embarassed as he tries to dump the DC3 in after somehow blowing right past the field... he's still not sufficiently familiar with the route. Thank goodness the copilot is not a local, either...
But the kid actually does have more recent time in the DC3... or so it's alleged... the captain makes a decision as the ship comes in for a landing. As they taxi, the stewardess makes her way forward and sticks her head through the door to the flight deck.
"Well, that was interesting", she notes.
"We'll shut her down when we park", the captain growls to the copilot. "I need to hit the head, and then we're going to change seats."
Next: the copilot takes it to Worland
Without separate throttles, this thing is a bear to taxi. And I don't know what happened on this leg; just nearly missed it, then almost couldn't find the secondary runway.