My flight from Denver to Phoenix has just pulled out of the gate. It begins to taxi down the runway when a salt and pepper haired man sitting in a window seat above the wing begins to yell. “Stop the plane. There’s smoke coming out of the engine. Tons of it! Stop the plane!” I am torn about putting down my latest copy of RoadRUNNER and giving the man my full and undivided attention. Since I am not a pilot on or off TV, I cannot sensibly contribute any assistance regarding a smoking plane. I casually call upon my high school marching band peripheral vision skills and subtly look in his direction. My crosswise view from two rows back does not reveal any smoke outside the window. However, passengers closer to the man also begin to show concern. The plane continues to taxi with no suggestion of slowing down and no reaction from the flight staff.
[headline h=”1″]This is an excerpt from my latest contribution to RoadRunner Motorcycle Touring & Travel Magazine[/headline]