I married a man whose obsession with flying machines began in elementary school with radio-controlled planes and helicopters. He eventually graduated to full-size planes and a career in aviation, but when we met 20 years ago in Louisville, Kentucky, he was a biomedical engineer with a yen to fly.
The role of adventurers in aviation was very much on my mind while reading Dick Smith's thrill-a-page book, The Earth Beneath Me, the story of his solo helicopter flight from Fort Worth, Texas to Sydney, Australia in 1982.
What would Doug do to get AnhDao to agree to marry him? Make himself disappear during a lunch date using a staged photo booth? Yes! Dress up as Kung Fu Panda and dance in a flash mob? Of course! Put his girlfriend on a helicopter and wait for her arrival on a skyscraper? No problem.
Maybe it's the altitude, but heli-skiing is like the best drug I have never taken, and it's certainly as addictive. I want to go back again and again. And it's probably the most dangerous and expensive drug I have ever tried, as well. This is not a sport for sane people.
Thousand of film lovers travel to Toronto every year to witness the latest crop of Oscar®-caliber films at the Toronto International Film Festival. In between screening compelling dramas attendees find time to eat at trendy restaurants, sightsee and reside in conveniently located hotels.
Los Angeles has to be one of the noisiest cities in America, and the biggest offender of all is helicopter noise. Is there any relief in sight or are Los Angeles' citizens forced to lose sleep night after night?