In 2009, I boarded a 4-seater puddle jumper jet and fearfully held my breath as we took off into the sky above Sudan. The further we traveled, the closer the mountains became. Though I knew we would be landing in the Didinga Hills, the theoretical concept was not as scary as the reality. It seemed as though we were flying straight toward the peaks.
The mountains were full of ridges and valleys. One of the ridges was bald and I knew what that meant: it was our landing strip. We had one chance to get the plane on the ground, and it depended on accurately touching down on a thin strip of grass. It was by far the scariest landing of my life.