Please join me in donating to
Typhoon Haiyan disaster relief!
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THIS POST IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF RUSTY LEE CARPENTER
Suddenly and tragically lost to us on October 24.
Friends wishing to help defray the cost of Rusty’s
grave marker may donate at:
Bank : JP Morgan Chase
Routing # : 071000013 Account # : 520821013
You can go to any Chase bank or donate on-line or from your smart phone
On-line addresses :www. Chase.com
Rusty, you were loved by all and lived life to the fullest.
Godspeed, my friend!
And Now . . .
Folks, while doing research for this month’s Blogging in Formation post (Link: http://capnaux.com/?p=43
), I stumbled on the fact that this month is not only National Aviation History
Month and National Inspirational Role Models
month. I also discovered that November is also National:
Banana Pudding Lovers Month, Diabetic Eye Disease Month, Epilepsy Awareness Month, Family Stories Month, Gluten-Free Diet Awareness Month, Greens and Plantains Month, Historic Bridge Awareness Month, International Drum (Percussion) Month, Child Safety Protection Month, National Native American Heritage Month, Peanut Butter Lovers Month, and National Sleep Comfort Month, Military Family Appreciation Month (I approve!), National Adoption Month, Spinach and Squash Month, and Sweet Potato Awareness Month . . . to name a few.
Oh, and by the way, one busted myth:
President Obama did not declare November, “National Muslim Appreciation Month!”
But there is one final “National (fill in the blank) Month” I found that’s dear to my heart: National Novel Writing Month!
(NaNoWriMo for short!)
Now, I can tell you first hand, Despite Bernstein’s proclamation, one does NOT write a novel in a month!
But, it’s a good place to start as any, I guess!
In addition, November includes many special days, such as:
King Tut Day, Guy Fawkes Day, Dunce Day, Gunpowder Day, Marooned without a Compass Day, Saxophone Day, Bittersweet Chocolate with Almonds Day, Cook Something Bold Day, Dunce Day, Chaos Never Dies Day (no, really!), Have a Party with Your Bear Day (no, really!), Sadie Hawkins Day, Absurdity Day and Stay at Home Because You are Well Day (Which I think, as mentioned in the November 1st post, should be called, “National Ferris Bueller Day!”)
But I did find 2 days that are also dear to my heart:
Nov. 2 — Book Lovers Day
Nov.12 — Young Readers Day
So, in celebration of NaNoWriMo and Book Lovers/Young Readers Day (albeit a tad tardy), I’d like to present to you several excerpts from my novels, one for Book (and aviation) Lovers Day (THE LAST BUSH PILOTS) . . .
And two for Young Readers Day—the 1st from my Young Adult spy novel Code Name: Dodger,
and the 2nd from its upcoming sequel, Cartel Kidnapping . . .
THE LAST BUSH PILOTS
The first excerpt is from my novel, The Last Bush Pilots
. In celebration of “National Inspirational Role Models Month,” this is the opening scene from Chapter 5, Dusty Tucker
A retired airline captain from the Golden Age of Aviation, Dusty Tucker pilots a renegade band of flying misfits at SEAS—Southeast Alaskan Seaplanes, Juneau.
Of course, I am obligated to brag that The Last Bush Pilots captured the coveted Amazon Top 100 Breakthrough Novel Awards!
CHAPTER 4: Dusty Tucker
Dusty Tucker was a veteran of the war—The War, as those of his generation called it. He’d served his country proudly, dueling Nazi Messerschmitts in the skies of Europe in that Cadillac of fighters, the P-51 Mustang.
Late to The War, the newly minted fighter pilot was shot down on his second mission. A French farmer hid him for eight months until Germany surrendered. In gratitude and lust, Dusty married the man’s beautiful, starry-eyed daughter Suzette and whisked her away to his little lonesome hometown in the Lone Star State. Upon arriving Stateside with his new war bride, however, he found that the world had changed. The States had changed. He had changed.
Commercial aviation boomed. Like hundreds of his fellow dogfighters, he jumped on board.
Whisking Suzette to the big city of Dallas, they enjoyed the pay and prestige of his new profession. Flying a DC-3, then later a Lockheed Electra, for Trans Lone Star Airways, he plied the skies across Texas and beyond. Suzette made him a comfortable nest and bore him two daughters, Betty Lousianne and Bobbi Suzette—Betty Lou and Bobbi Sue for short. Nothing could be more perfect.
Nevertheless, Dusty found himself curiously restless. One day, eighteen thousand feet over Del Rio, a single word popped into his head: Alaska. His soul cried out.
“To hell with it,” he said to the cacti.
That spring, Dusty once again pulled up roots and whisked his wife, accustomed now to her lover’s whisking, to Bethel, Alaska, 400 miles west of Anchorage. To him, the tiny Yupik Eskimo village was home. His family was shell shocked.
He traded his Electra for a Cessna. Tucker Air Taxi was born.
Like most in Alaska, his was a one-man airline. He had no ticket agents, no flight attendants, no baggage handlers. Everything that went on board, he loaded. Inflight meals consisted of thermos coffee and a baloney sandwich. Through endless summer days and eternal winter nights, Dusty plied the vast skies between Eskimo villages, mining camps and trading posts, delivering mail, natives, trappers and prospectors, frozen fish and frozen government servants.
No satellites or TV forecasters beamed him the weather; Dusty was his own weatherman, and what he saw out the window was the forecast. Few hangars existed to change a spark plug; Dusty was his own mechanic, and his garage was what he took with him. No gas stations existed enroute; Dusty was his own fueler. No maps or electronic gizmos guided him; his navaid was his eyes. For Dusty, “IFR” meant,“I Follow Rivers.” Even better, Dusty found, was what the pilots jokingly called the “Eskimo ADF.” While looking for a microdot of a landing strip amidst miles of featureless tundra, he could take a furtive glance at his local passengers, whose gaze always pointed like a bird dog at their destination. With a subtle change of course in that direction, he would nail the landing strip every time.
With skill, quick thinking and luck, the cheechacko survived by learning the hard way: on his own.
Last Bush Pilot Trailer 2 from Capnaux on Vimeo.
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The next excerpt is from my Young Adult spy novel, Code Name: Dodger.
Teen orphan Justin Reed and illegal immigrant Mira must outwit Justin’s father’s killer—
the evil spy Pharaoh.
CODE NAME: DODGER
TO: KING COLE/CIA HQ
FR: AGENT FAGIN
LOC: NORTH BROOKLYN, NY
RE: ENEMY AGENT PHARAOH
OP: RUBBER SOUL
HAVE DISCOVERED CIA ENEMY AGENT PHARAOH’S PRIMARY TARGET:
REED, JUSTIN M.; TEEN ORPHAN; SON OF MALCOMB REED, DECEASED.
ENEMY AGENT OBJCTV: REMAINS UNKN.
ENEMY AGENT IDENT: REMAINS UNKN.
Sitting back, I surveyed my parents’ final resting place. With these two mounds, I buried my two pasts. I brushed the dirt from my palms and stood.
“I’ll join you someday, Mom and Dad. But it won’t be soon.”
“Sooner than you think, Justin.”
I jumped and turned in surprise. I spied a man lurking in the shadows of an elm. I couldn’t see his face, but his raspy voice I knew too well.
I thought I’d shouted his name, but all that came from me was a whisper.
Out of the shadows, he stepped toward me, a Glock pistol leveled at me from his right hand.
I glanced right and left, looking for a place to run, to hide.
“Oh, no, Artful Dodger, you can’t dodge me now. And no one’s around to hear your screams. But don’t worry. I’m going to give you what you dearly want most. I’m going to send you to see your parents. Chiyaa!” A roundhouse kick struck my face and knocked me backward over Mom’s grave marker.
The kick stunned me, but training took over. I somersaulted backward and stood. Another blow sent me tumbling to the ground. I don’t know whether it had been from a fist or a foot, but it bloodied my nose.
I lay on my hands and knees, unable to escape. I closed my lips tight and breathed through my nostrils like a winded horse. Dirt and blood mixed on my tongue and filled my nostrils. I choked and coughed. Grit crunched between my teeth.
I heard two quick clicks, the unique sound of a silencer locking into place.
I craned my stiff neck around. His blurry figure towered over me, lit in small patches of moonbeam.
He cocked the pistol and leveled it at me. His uneven frown twisted into an insane grimace.
I rolled onto my back.
He raised the pistol high above his head, then, ever so slowly, lowered it down, down to take careful aim at my skull.
My muscles went limp.
I closed my eyes.
— — — — —
And for those of you who’ve already read Book One of Code Name: Dodger, here’s a sneak preview of Mission Two: Cartel Kidnapping.Scheduled for release in 2014, Justin must rescue his adopted father, CIA agent Bob, from a drug smuggling Cartel bent on vengeance.
MISSION 2—CARTEL KIDNAPPING
TO: KING COLE/CIA HQ
FR: AGENT ANACONDA
LOC: CUIDAD JUAREZ, MEXICO
RE: OCHO SMUGGLING RING
OP: SNAKE BITE
DRUG LORD CARLOS OCHO HAS DISPATCHED TOP ASSASSINS TO U.S.
RE: RETALIATION AGAINST AGENTS FAGIN AND DODGER FOR DESTROYING OCHO/PHARAOH DRUG SMUGGLING RING; DETAILS OF OP UNKNOWN.
IMMEDIATE ACTION REQ’D TO ENSURE THEIR SAFETY.
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|Rusty’s gang, KPHX, circa 2012
- JOIN THIS SITE…………………VERIFY………………………..JOINED
- OTHER NETWORKS………..VERIFY………………………..SHARED
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Related Cap’n Aux Posts
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LINED UP & WAITINGHappy Thanksgiving!Launching November 27 at 11:00 am PHX
Cap’n Aux’s Most Inspirational Role Model!
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Blogging in Formation Week!
Posts all week beginning December 1, by your favorite aviation bloggers!
This Month’s Theme: What I Want Under the Christmas Tree
Cap’n Aux post: Friday December 6— — — — — —
Departing December 18 @ 11:00 PHX
Cap’n Aux’s Christmas Special!
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Departing in January
GoPro Vlog (Video Blog): Cap’n Aux Gets High!
. . . in the Altitude Chamber, that is!
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