Here I am with two Congressmen, all smiles getting ready to fly up to Jalalabad to visit the Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT). Initially flying between the mountains was breathtaking, but about half way there I couldn't wait for the flight to end! I felt like I was on a rickety roller coaster. We were on an old Marine CH53 -- probably older than me -- that spit black smoke and dripped hydraulic liquid on us. And flying among the mountains quickly became nauseating as the pilot flew in, out and around the peaks. I was never so glad to land. In the trip home our pilot took some extra special loops and turns and it was all I could do not to lose my cookies. That wasn't the only excitement -- at one point the two door gunners decided to get some practice in without warning us, and we didn't know if we were being fired upon or what. Then one of the VIPs cut his head on the ceiling of the helicopter when he stood up to disembark, requiring 13 stitches. Thank goodness the PRT was staffed by doctors and medics. I told God I would NEVER volunteer for another VIP escort if he'd just get me back on solid ground. He was good to me. I'm sure for many reasons these congressmen will not forget their visit to Afghanistan!