Mud

The airstrip in our area is many miles outside of town and well out of cell-phone reception so when you "go to the airstrip" you are there until you leave on your plane or with your guests. We didn't know just what that would mean for us on Thursday when we flew out. The cargo plane taking us out was scheduled to land at 10am although it didn't appear on the horizon until closer to 10:30. This was the biggest plane I have yet seen on our little dirt airstrip and I was almost surprised it managed at all. Usually the planes land, taxi all the way down the 800 meter strip, turn around and then make their way back to where people and Land Cruisers wait to unload the cargo. However after the plane landed this time, someone with a sat phone got a call from the pilot saying we would have to meet the plane down at the far end of the airstrip. We all thought this was a little odd, but attributed it to the plane's size, thinking it would need the entire length of the airstrip on the way out. But when we got down to the end of the strip we saw the real cause of the problem. The huge gray plane full of five tons of cargo was tilting eerily to one side, with one wing slanting on a skyward trajectory and the other dipping behind the tall elephant grass beyond the edge of the airstrip. Apparently the pilot had been unable to turn the plane around on the little runway successfully, and as a result, the right wheel and landing gear had slipped off of the raised airstrip and deep into a muddy ditch on the side.
Over the next five hours tractors, Land Cruisers, man power, shovels, and lumber were all used to try to pull the plane out. The whole ordeal varied between extreme excitement and sweltering boredom. One minute everyone was up and ready to scatter as other smaller planes buzzed overhead, trying to land on the airstrip despite our lumbering presence, or when massive UN tractors chained themselves to the plane and tried to wrench her out. But most of the time those of us who weren't digging were just sitting in the shade of the plane's belly, swatting away sweat bees and flies. Every once in a while the pilots would turn on an engine to try and give her more power to get out, but, being so far from our destination, fuel conservation was a serious consideration. So we all shared around our cookies and water bottles, put on sunscreen, took a few pictures and waited.
Finally, with the help of a second tractor the plane wiggled free. Knowing that some of us had a connecting flight we were within five minutes of missing, the muddy pilots hustled us all into the plane as soon as she was loose, and within minutes we were airborne. A few hours later, as we made our descent, we all looked out the porthole windows a little nervously as the mud and grass caked landing gear creaked down for landing. But she pulled it off perfectly and we were able to sprint happily across the (tarmac) runway and into the open doors of our next waiting flight.
The craziest part of it all though is that the day which started out in a tent and centered around a mud-stuck cargo plane, ended up with Java House milkshakes, deep hot baths and a big clean bed!