No I didn't have a Superman cape, but I was wishing for one when I saw what I was about to fly in. To say the craft looked unsafe was like saying the Hindenburg had potential problems. But I had committed to the assignment and what did a little life and death matter when it came to honoring a deal? How did I get myself in this situation?

It all started when I noticed that our newspaper was running a string of articles and photos of newborn critters from the local zoo-the kinds that make you go "Oh, how precious", or as the folks in my hometown might say, "Ain't that just cute as a bug's ear?" There were pictures of a baby chimp, a toddler tiger, and even some wolf pups. My shutter finger began to twitch. I wanted some of those bug's ear photos. Problem was, only newspaper personnel were allowed behind the scenes, places where the general public were not allowed. I wondered if there was any way to get that kind of access if you weren't a professional newspaper photographer. Then it came to me. There might be a way. Fortunately, I had previously won a photo contest at the zoo so they knew who I was; at least I hoped they remembered me.

With that in mind, I approached the director with a proposition. "If you'll grant me the privileges of the newspaper boys, I'll shoot your publicity photos such as corporate events, holiday celebrations, and any shots you may need of the animals for the souvenir store." To my surprise and delight, she accepted. I was issued a plastic name plate with my very own name on it, and this was the cool part; underneath were the words Staff Photographer. Woo, hoo! I had an "in" baby.

In a matter of days, I received my first assignment; photograph a new bleacher area that was to be used by the zoo docents for demonstrations. Try as I might, I couldn't seem to come up with a new and exhilarating way to shoot a row of seats but I did my best. The next job had about the same level of excitement, the snack bar. That didn't take long either. I decided to try out my new staff status and took a stroll over behind the wolf enclosure hoping to get a few shots of the new pups. A security guard challenged me immediately. Smiling, I pointed toward my nameplate, complete with zoo logo.

"Oh, sorry sir," he said. "You must be new here. Go right ahead with what you're doing."

Was this gonna be cool or what?

A few days later I received a call from the director. She wanted me to meet a pilot at a private airfield. "We need some aerial photos of the zoo for a brochure," she said. Now things were getting interesting. New opportunities were opening. Maybe I could make friends with the pilot and fly to all sorts of wonderful photographic locations. Rocky Mountain National Park would only be a few hours away; and Yellowstone! Why not?

When I drove up, a man named Glen was standing by a ...helicopter, a very small helicopter. I couldn't help but notice it was painted orange, bright orange, actually a fluorescent orange. It looked like a cartoon copter, maybe one that the Saturday morning Power Rangers would use. And it was old. I knew this because it looked exactly like one of those choppers used in the TV series M.A.S.H. depicting the Korean War era. You probably remember them; the ones with the big clear plastic bubble in front? Fragile looking? Like they could fly apart moments after leaving the ground? Glen must have sensed my reluctance as he assured me that the aircraft was perfectly safe and had been meticulously maintained...all these years. Standing there, shielding my eyes from the glow, there was some comfort knowing that the chances of a midair collision were slim.

I asked if the gas tank was full, it was, and we lifted off. It took a while to get used to seeing all that space between me and the ground, practically under my feet, but once past that, it was quite a ride and I actually began to enjoy it despite the fact I couldn't see a single parachute. Did I mention there were no doors on this death trap? The vibration wasn't all that bad, something I had worried about when it came to getting sharp photos but I had read somewhere that to get the best results, it was a good idea to keep the camera from resting on any part of the framework. Arriving over the zoo, I began to shoot. A medium telephoto lens worked the best and with almost unrestricted access out the door, there was no problem getting the shots I needed. The one moment of excitement came when the pilot informed me, with some urgency, that I was leaning on the control stick. I asked him if he could go a little lower to get some slightly different angles and he obliged. A couple more passes and I called it quits, confident that I had everything they wanted for their publication.

A few days later, after the film was processed (yes, this was before digital), I proudly entered the director's office to display my skill and handiwork when I was met, not with smiles or words of appreciation, but a scowl, a deep, serious scowl.

"What the hell were you doing flying so low over the animals? We had complete pandemonium down here!"

I had failed to consider that the critters had probably never had a noisy, fluorescent orange Power Ranger helicopter in their midst and they reacted accordingly. Seems the elephants went on a short rampage testing the strength of the compound walls, the sea lions headed for the deep end of the pool, the chimps screamed and dove for cover, parrots lost large quantities of colorful feathers banging into the cages while small children cried and angry mothers shook their fists in the air. Clearly it was time to turn in my staff photographer ID name badge. My "in" had become an "out".

In the future I would stay with photos of kittens and puppies, show them to my friends and relatives, smile when they say "Oh ain't they cute?' and know what could have been.

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