The first shock hit when I saw downtown Portland fading away to my left. Leaping up to an ear-popping 1500 feet, we banked hard and scooted away past Mt. St. Helens. In seconds, my life, my family and friends, were miles away, and I was on my way to a new beginning.
Oregon is an ocean of clouds, reaching out to form a curved white blanket past the edges of my sight. Mountains rise up occasionally, though from this altitude they just look like little lumps of snow on a flat field.
Climbing on the airplane this morning was the most hilarious couple of hours I"ve had in a long time. The innuendo was flat out flying around, although somehow we all managed to keep the people around us in stitches, which is a significantly better option than we expected.
My travel buddies are four guys from Washington and Oregon, ages 18 - 21. Gobel hails from Kelso, Hoffman grew up near The Dalles, Barlow comes from Oakridge, and Tiego, "Junior" (the only non-tanker of the group) is from Vancouver. They are hilarious, nervous, and just as excited as I am, though our humor currently hovers over the obscene side of juvenile. I feel right at home.
My ears keep popping as we ascend. Moments ago we rocketed past Mt. Hood, and Hoffman, leaning over from hise windowseat, commented, "Man, that looks so much easier to climb from up here."
This is aa good-natured group of guys, and I can only hope that the rest of the men I will train with are of a similar make. I know we will all get a bit broken up these next few weeks, but if the comraderie of the last few hous is any indicatior, I think we will make it through strong.
Funny thing: I'm apparently the only one who knows the creed or the general orders. This will be interesting.
Quote of the day:
Barlow; "I'm thirsty; I want a cookie."
More later.
Pvt 2 T. J. Ellingsworth
P.S. the game
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