I have already had the opportunity to fly in small bush planes several times. On one trip last week, as we were taking off and banking more sharply than I have ever experienced, it occurred to me that our chances of dying an untimely death have increased since being here in Alaska. I know it’s a dark thought, and I don’t dwell on it, but our opportunities to croak are several: a small aircraft crash, freezing to death, wild animal attack, falling through the ice while walking across a frozen river, freak hunting accident, loosing my arm to a chainsaw, whatever. It’s not worrisome; it’s just a reality. We should probably be paying a higher life insurance premium living up here, but don’t tell our agent.