A lifetime of surviving turbulent flights into the Rocky Mountains in search of Wolves or Grizzles, Mountain Lions and Wolverines with occasional transporting drugged animals in the airplane brought an over confidence that I could handle any situation. Little did I know that my life would spin out of control in the distance future. Shaking uncontrollably as I ran up the steps to the Flight Service Station In Illimani. "I'm David Hoerner. My boy flew out today, did you get an ID on the airplane?" I couldn't breath waiting for the answer. The man acted like he didn't hear me.With anger and force, I pounded on his desk. "Did you hear me? My boy flew out this morning headed toward Dillingham. He was caribou hunting. Do you know who got in the wreck?"The man turned and asked, "Do you know the number on your boy's plane?" I still couldn't breath. My mind fought for an answer, It can't be Ryan. I could see Ryan's blue eyes and heard his voice as a kid playing tag with the goat we kept tied next to the barn. Ryno. Laughing and free. Ryno running the pants off all his friends in soccer. Ryan taking his first flight exam. Ryan standing at the banks of Iliamna Lake just yesterday, living his dream, taking it all in.