This ain't your typical hangar. We're talkin' a full-on B707, engine roaring, and we're straddling this ladder like it's a monkey bars. The wind's howlin' in our ears, the ground's shrinking below, and I swear I saw a hawk divebombing past. This is the kind of rush that sticks with you. There's somethin'hypnotic about being up there, watchin' down