JB was inspecting communications facilities in Alaska. Since
he had little experience flying in small planes, he was
nervous when his craft approached a landing strip in a
snow-covered area.

The pilot descended to just a couple
hundred feet, then gunned both engines, climbed, and circled
back. While his heart pounded, the passenger beside JB seemed
calm.

"I wonder why he didn't land," JB remarked.

"He was checking to see if the landing strip was plowed," the
calm man replied.

As they made a second approach, JB glanced out the window.
"It looks plowed to me," he commented.

"No," his seatmate answered, "It hasn't been cleared for
some time."

"How can you tell?"

"Because," JB was informed, "I'm the guy who drives the
plow."