Big Creek, Idaho, the Backcountry Strip Where the Lodge Burned to the Ground and a Handful of Pilots Refused to Let It Die. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

The Airport in the Sky, Catalina's Mesa-Top Runway Where You Can't See the Far End on Touchdown and a Buffalo Might Be Waiting on the Ramp. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

The FBO Courtesy Car, the Beat-Up Loaner With Two Hundred Thousand Miles and a Gas Gauge on Empty That Somehow Runs the Whole Social Life of General Aviation. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

Johnson Creek, the Idaho Backcountry Strip at Yellow Pine Where the Grass Is Cut Like a Fairway, the Showers Are Hot, and Every Pilot on the Field Is Someone You Want to Meet. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

Gaston's White River Resort, the Grass Strip in Lakeview, Arkansas Where You Taxi Past the Dinner Table and the Trout You Catch at Noon Is on Your Plate by Six. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

The EAA Chapter Pancake Breakfast, the Saturday Morning Fly-In Where the Griddle Never Stops and the Best Story on the Field Costs You a Folding Chair. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

Sulphur Creek Ranch, the Idaho Backcountry Strip You Can Only Reach by Air or Horseback, Where the Runway Bends Around a Hill and the Cinnamon Rolls Are the Size of Your Head. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

Triple Tree Aerodrome, Pappy Rossi's Seven Thousand Feet of Manicured Grass in Woodruff, South Carolina, Where the Runway Is Mowed Like a Golf Green and Everybody Camps Under the Wing. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

The Language of the Wands, the Ramp Marshaller Who Walks You In Backward and Never Says a Word. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.

Big Creek, the Idaho Backcountry Strip Whose Lodge Burned to the Ground and the Volunteers Who Hauled It Back Up the Mountain Board by Board. With Ramp on Radio Hangar.