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Nov 22, 2009, 7:50am

Alaskan Winds :: The Coffeeshop :: The Novelist Corner :: Silverfox Goes To Alaska

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silverfox
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Re: Silverfox Goes To Alaska
« Reply #15 on Oct 7, 2009, 12:56pm »

AWPIREP AW612 SEA 5KE-CAB5-63A Beaver on pontoons 70 minutes

After spending the night in Ketchikan and staying in a hotel, we slept in the next morning. I guess we did too much celebrating with the local people. Now we are ready to move northward again. The weather isn’t that good with some low clouds in the area. We go to the airplanes and make the preflight inspections. Now we can depart and leave Alaska after just this one night. We will be traveling back into Canada as we fly northward. Today we will be flying past some higher mountains and this far north we will see plenty of snow along our route of flight. I start the engine and slowly taxi into the water. With the landing gear retracted, I make the takeoff and I am on my way. The others will follow closely behind. Again I will lead the way just in case we run into some really bad weather. I will be able to warn the others and they can turn back while I make my climbing turn in IFR conditions. The others are only VFR pilots.

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We fly south for about five miles and then turn back to the east and then the northeast. We follow the fjords as far as we are able. In this way, we will be able to land if the weather gets really bad. Not to worry today, the weather isn’t that bad with just a few clouds below the 2 thousand feet level. Most are sitting above the 3 thousand to 4 thousand foot level. As we fly along, I check the maps closely so that I will be flying in the valleys ahead. Now just about every mountain has some snow on it. Mostly because of the glaciers or the sun doesn’t shine on them very much during the day. I am used to seeing the snow disappear during the summer months and this is really something for me to see. Now as we fly along, the fjords are getting very narrow and the walls are really steep in places. We climb to a little higher altitude now and are flying through the wispy lower bases of some of the clouds. It looks as it has been raining a little out of those higher clouds. This is making some light fog in the valleys below us. As we cross the mountain passes, I don’t see any place where we could safely land an airplane just in case we have to land. One can feel the hair on the back of the neck stand up when this thought passed through the mind. Not to worry, the Beaver’s engine hasn’t missed a beat as of yet. I watch the OAT just in case of icing in the engine. We make a lot of turns while traveling through these valleys with such steep, almost shear, walls. Some of the passes are just wide enough to get the wings through; or so it seems at times. Be for long, we can see the water which will lead us to Bronson Creek, BC, Canada. We will stop there for a while and wait to see what the weather is doing before moving on. Fishing may be on the list of things we can do to pass the time.

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After descending, I turn over the water and can see the airport on the hill just above the water. I will land on the water just below the airport and taxi to the shallow water near the shore. I will tie up there and wait for the weather to clear. If it doesn’t, we can spend the night here.

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While we were waiting for the weather to clear a little, we decided to have something to eat. We had slept in and did not have any breakfast as of yet. It’s not just after 10 AM and we will have some breakfast and lunch at the same time. I think that the Europeans call this brunch. While sitting around eating, we talked about our plans again. Now it was my turn to tell about my growing up and what I planed to do with my life just as the others had. Larry, from Mississippi, was a little bashful and didn’t want to talk much about his life. I started: I was born in southern Ohio along the Ohio River. My parents were from that area and they decided to stay in that area after the war; WW II. I can’t remember much about growing up except that my father drank a lot and wrecked the car often. Everyone had a little chuckle at this. Well, in high school I decided that I wanted to fly for my living. I didn’t know how I would do this, but I made plans for doing so. During my high school days, I tried to play football, but because of my size, the coach wouldn’t let me play. He said that I was too small and I would get hurt. Now I didn’t understand this at all because he would let me be a part of the team and practice everyday with the team. I guess he needed someone to get the team into shape for the game on Friday nights. I guess that I, and the other dozen others who didn’t play in the games, did a really good job because in the four years, we only lost one, or two, games a year. I didn’t get any major injuries, just banged up a lot. My dad said that would build my manhood. Heck, I wasn’t a man, I was just a teenager trying to get along in this world. Anyway, I did get my pilot’s license along with some extra ratings. Now all I have to do is to find someone who is willing to hire someone who doesn’t have much time. My grandfather is helping me by the purchase of this Beaver for this trip so I can build up my time. I need more flying in the wilds is what he told me.

After lunch, we checked the maps again and found that we were not really on a lake, but we were on a very long arm of a fjord which extended into the Pacific. This fjord must be at least 70 miles long and ends just a couple hundred yards from where we are now. Because of the narrow passage ways along this fjord, it mostly is fresh water flowing towards the ocean. After lunch, we try our hands at fishing until just after noon when the weather looked much better from where we were. We had drifted far out into the fjord. Kirby would just have to wait for a little while because I didn’t want to water taxi to the shore and shut down again. I started the engine and let it warm up a little. Those big radial engines will cool faster than one expects because of the large frontal area of the engine. All it takes is just a little breeze to cool it down.

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While the engine was warming, I taxied up the fjord and turned around. I would make this takeoff heading towards the ocean which was the way we were going. I watched as the other two made their takeoff’s and climbed into the afternoon sky. Now it was my turn and the Beaver didn’t let me down at all. With the weather improving, Jeff would lead the way for a while.

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We only climbed to around 1,500 feet and headed along the fjord. After being in the air for just 15 minutes, we came to a fork on the fjord. We wanted to fly to the right along the ice fields and get a better look at the glaciers, but because of the weather, we would stay along the fjord and follow it to the ocean. The clouds were back and some of them were obscuring the mountain tops. Jeff and Larry didn’t want to take a chance of flying into a cloud in this mountainous area, so they took the easy out; they stayed along the fjord. This would not add any time to our flight because this direction was about the same mileage, but it would let us fly at a lower altitude. We flew along the fjord for some time before reaching the wider water area. If we go to the left, we will end up in Wrangell. If we go to the right, we will end up in Petersburg. Jeff went right; we would go to the Petersburg area and spend the night. It wasn’t too far; just a 10 minute flight from where we were. Soon the airport at Petersburg was in sight. We were not going to land at the airport, but instead we would land at the seaplane base beside the airport. We could tie up along the shore and spend the night. By doing this, we should be able to find some wood for our fire for the night. I flew near the end of the runway and turned towards the landing area in the cove just east of the runway.

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After landing, I taxied to the shore and “beached” the Beaver. Now for Kirby. He has been really good about holding off until we land so far; let’s not push it too far yet. After shutting down the engine, Kirby and I took a little walk. I brought back some drift wood I found along the shore. It looks as if we will have a really good night here. We may be able to reach Juneau tomorrow if things go good weather wise. Juneau is where we will end our flight northward. The others have to head back south, along the coast, so that they will be in school when it starts. Jeff and John, already out of school, have work waiting for them. Jeff will be working for his father and John will be reporting to the Forestry Department.

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silverfox
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Re: Silverfox Goes To Alaska
« Reply #16 on Oct 9, 2009, 8:43am »

AWPIREP AW612 SEA 67A-7AK2-PAJ1 Beaver on pontoons 96 minutes

After a visit to Petersburg, we went back to our airplanes for our evening meal. It wasn’t anyone’s turn to do the cooking, so we just all pitched in and did the cooking; I should say grilling. After the meal and the cleanup was completed, we sat down in the evening for our campfire time. The evenings are a little cool so the fire really did feel good. Now the “twilight” last for hours so the prospect of it getting dark fast was almost gone. The sun was down, but it was just below the horizon so it’s light lingered on until the wee hours of the morning. We usually went to bed at around midnight but it was still light outside. As we sat there talking Jeff said, “I guess that we are heading south after out flight tomorrow; that is if we make Juneau tomorrow.” I just had to say something so I jumped right in, “Tomorrow will be my last flight with you guys.” “Why, what’s wrong,” John asked? “Nothing is wrong,” I replied. “I have made a decision about my life and I won’t be returning with you guys. I guess this will be our last camp fire together.” “What decision have you made,” Matt asked? “I’m not going to go back to school this fall,” I said. “I’ll be staying in Alaska. I have talked to my grandfather about this and he has told me to just keep the Beaver, he was going to give it to me anyway, and use it to make a living with if I can. That’s what I’m going to do. I will try to find a job flying here, that is if anyone will have me. Until I find a job, I plan to do a little work taking tourist out on fishing trips to some of the remote lakes.”

“Well it looks as everyone knows what they want to do in their lives,” Matt said. “That is everyone except Larry. What about you, Larry?” Now Larry was a quiet kind of a guy who didn’t say much. Just getting him to talk very much was a chore at times. Now getting him to talk about himself was like “pulling teeth.” Larry sat very still for about three minutes while we all waited for him to tell us. Finally he began, “I was born in the far south and we didn’t have very much. I lived almost in the swamp and went to a very small school. I had to help with securing something to eat most of the time because my daddy could hardly find work. I really did get good at throwing rocks at rabbits and squirrels. Hit them most of the time. When I started high school, I had to live with my grandmother so I would be able to attend school. While there, the baseball coach found out that I could throw so he asked me to show him throw using a baseball. Now I was really good at throwing, so I hit the target every time. I was the pitcher for our small high school baseball team. One day, a man from the university came and watched me pitch. He said that I could go to collage if I would just play baseball. Now no one in my family hardly finished high school let alone go to collage. I jumped at the chance and as you know, I play baseball for the collage; I’m a pitcher. I want, no don’t laugh at me guys, be a baseball pitcher in the big leagues some day.” We all just sat there looking into the fire. Not one of us laughed at all. Finally, Jeff said, “I think that would be wonderful; I’ve never bet a professional ball player at all, and now I just may have a good friend who is one.” We all wished Larry luck with his attempt at playing baseball. It’s really a hard thing to get into. We talked until after midnight about life and what we expected to achieve. Each one of us has a goal and are willing to do what ever it takes to achieve that goal. We went to bed and slept on those thoughts. Tomorrow will be a long flight to Juneau.

The sun was high in the sky by the time we had our breakfast; it was just 7:30 AM. It was light at about 3 AM that morning. We cleared the mess up and made sure that we hadn’t forgotten anything. We were ready to depart. I did the preflight and started the engine. I taxied into the water slowly and waited until the others were ready. We departed the Petersburg area from Lloyd Roundtree seaplane base. If we were to go directly to Juneau, that would only take us about 30 minutes or less. We wanted to look at the ice fields and the glaciers in the area. We expected to see some really big glaciers today.

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We let Jeff and Matt lead today because the Cessna doesn’t climb as well as the other two aircraft. We climb high above the ice fields and fly between some of the mountain peaks. We are above 7 thousand feet and still have to look up at some of those peaks. Everywhere we look, we see ice and glaciers. I look up at the sky, which has cleared up nicely, and see where an Air Force jet has been. That’s something one doesn’t see much of now days but I have a feeling we will be seeing more of them. Boeing and Douglas are building some jets for the airlines. It won’t be long before everyone is flying in a jet. Now that would really be something to see. An airport full of jets each one making one heck of a noise. People are already complaining about the noise around airports. Just wait until the sky is full of jets.

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As we fly along, I try to find the name of each one of these glaciers or ice fields. Most are not named on the charts and maps that I have. The ones which are named really do have some strange names while others have very common names. As we fly over one glacier, I can see that it fills the whole valley below. The chart says that the glacier is around one thousand feet thick. Now that is one really big chunk of ice. I did find out one thing by seeing these glaciers; they are blue in color. I thought that ice was clear, but the glaciers are blue do the compression of the ice which pushes out all of the air.

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After being in the air for just over half an hour, we are ready to make the descent for a landing at Snettisham, Alaska. This airport sets in a deep valley along one of the fjords. We wait for Jeff and Matt to start the descent. The way I see it, we are just about 10 minutes away. The descent can make that shorter unless we keep the speed down. Anyway, we will be descending at a higher than normal rate. I hope Kirby’s ears don’t bother him. A howling dog in a confined space can be a really bad thing. Jeff starts his descent and John follows. I reduce the power on the Beaver, and we start down.

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As we began to see the airport, I told the others that a landing on the water near the airport runway would work out better. The runway extended out into the water anyway, so landing on the water should give us more space. The runway was heading towards higher ground which did rise quite rapidly. By landing on the water, one could make a ‘go around’ if it was needed. I lowered the flaps and let the Beaver settle slowly at a speed of just over 60 knots. When about five feet above the water, I cut the power and touched down on the water behind the other two. We taxied to the dock where I tied up close to a fishing boat. The other two parked at a nearby dock just behind me.

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After parking at the dock, we walked the half mile into the small town where we found a place which served the best sandwiches anyone ever sank a tooth into. They told us that it was caribou meet. Never ate anything like that at all. I was kind of glad that I was going to stay in Alaska and take in everything about this place; just one step at a time. After lunch, we walked slowly back to the airplanes. I don’t think anyone was in a hurry now. We started the engines and were soon on our way to Juneau.

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Again we were not going to fly directly to Juneau, but take the route over the mountain passes again. We were told that there were some really big glaciers in those valleys. We thought we had seen some big ones but they said that wasn’t anything compared to these. We climbed to 7,500 feet again and set up a slow cruse speed for the Beaver. We were indicating just over 100 knots at this altitude. The Cessna 170 was holding it’s own even at this altitude. We crossed some deep valleys and saw a lot of really high peaks. Most of them were just over 8 thousand feet high. We flew between some of the wider ones and then turned towards the water which would lead us to Juneau. I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. As I looked below, this glacier stretched out for just over five miles as it made it’s way down the mountain to the water. That’s right, it was going into the water. The width was just under a mile. It joined with another one coming down another mountain. Before it reach the water, it split in two and had two places where it entered the water. Now this was really something for a young man from southern Ohio to behold.

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Flying in a descent along that long glacier was almost as if we were riding in a sled as the glacier ran downhill into the water. At 1,500 feet we leveled off and turned towards Juneau. It would take us another 10 minutes before we would be able to see the city along the water with the high mountains behind it. And what mountains they were. Everyone of them ice capped with glaciers all around. As we flew closer to the airport at Juneau, we descended to around 500 feet in order to stay out of the traffic pattern at Juneau. We were going to land at June Sea Plane Base beside the runway at Juneau. That landing area is a narrow strip of water with docks built on both sides in some places. They must really be planning on lots of aircraft and boats because of all the docks, most of which are empty. I touched down on the water and we have arrived at the capital of Alaska.

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A short water taxi to one of the docks and we were parked. It was a mixed occasion; glad to be there and sad that our trip together was ending. Now Juneau was to be the furthest north we planed to go. From there we were to fly along the coast back to the Astoria area. I was not going to see the Beaver, but keep her for a while. We would have one last evening meal together and celebrate out successful flight ‘North to Alaska.’

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Looking back now, my story in Alaska was just beginning. As for the others, their stories were just beginning also. Jeff took over his father’s concrete business and it has now grown into fifteen plants in six states. John went with the Forestry Department and has become director of an area of over 2 million acres of government forest land. Matt told his father about not wanting to farm and is now an Admiral in the US Navy. And as for Larry, he pitched for two major league baseball teams over a period of seven years. As for now, I will be flying further north while trying to find employment in Alaska.

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silverfox
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Re: Silverfox Goes To Alaska
« Reply #17 on Oct 11, 2009, 7:30am »

AWPIREP AW612 SEA PAJN-7K2-CYSQ-CYXY Beaver on pontoons 111 minutes

Now that I have decided on what I want to do in my life, the other four will be heading back south today. At 8:30 AM, they said their farewells to me and we all promised to keep in touch for just as long as we could. I still get notes from them from time to time. They, John, Jeff, Matt, and Larry, are headed south and expect to reach Prince Rupert by day’s end. They will then fly on southward until they are back at the starting point. Now I will try to find myself something to do for a short while so that I can make a little spending money. I start by talking with some of the people at the Juneau Airport. I must have talked to a dozen people and each one of them told me to check at the Temsco hanger. That was clear down at the other end, so I kept asking about part time work until I was at the Temsco hanger. The owner was setting up his own business which he thought would really grow fast. He was importing helicopters from the lower 48 and putting them together in his hanger. When I told him that I had worked on some Bell model 47’s, he was really excited. That was one of the helicopters he was having shipped to him. There were others, which were just as easy to assemble as the Bell. I was hired for a short period of time, just three weeks while I assembled some parts for him.

I had checked with the FAA about having my airplane inspected so that I could use it to make money with. They told me that I would have to do something about the “airline” paint job on it. I shouldn’t give anyone the wrong impression about my flying and just who I was. I told my new “boss” about it and he said, “Why don’t you paint it yourself? All you have to do is sand it off so that the paint will stick and spray it with enamel paint used on autos. That stuff is really good now days.” He would let me use his hanger on the weekend to do the painting just as long as I cleaned up afterwards. Off I went to the auto parts store. I got some 400 grit sandpaper and some paint. Now as for the color, I wanted something which would cover the red paint and not let the red bleed through. I settled for green and gray with just a hint of red. The paint was good on the Beaver and the sanding wasn’t too hard; it just took me a long time because the airplane is so big. I brought the Beaver to the parking area near the Temsco hanger and began my work each evening after I finished my work. It only took me a week of sanding before I was ready to do the painting. On a Saturday morning, I moved the Beaver inside the hanger and started the cleaning process. One of the other men I worked with was there to lend a hand. He said he wanted to learn to paint, so I was willing to show him how to paint. First you must clean the area you want to paint. I mean really clean it good. Now most people will furnish the beer for jobs such as this, but I won’t. I want a good paint job so “cokes” were the drink of the day. It took almost all day long, but by late afternoon, I was spraying the green on the wings and nose. The next day, we sprayed the red stripe and then the gray. It took some doing just covering up the already painted areas so that they would not get any paint on them. It only took the two of us two days, working 10 hours each day, to complete the job. On Monday, we moved the Beaver back outside. There I would complete the painting touchup and paint the numbers on the aircraft. By the end of the second week, all was ready for the FAA inspection. I passed and I can now fly, using my own aircraft, for hire. Feels really good to be in business for myself.

I learned real fast that finding any flying out of Juneau wasn’t an easy thing to do. There were some well established flying services there and took almost all the flying jobs available. Now I had been told not to under cut an established business because that wouldn’t really get you anywhere. That would work for a little while, but soon people would wonder just why you were much cheaper than the others. That one question would cause them to not use you later on. Word would get around and my business would suffer because of it. I kept looking for any flying jobs. When my three weeks were up, the owner asked me if I wanted to fly some helicopter parts up north for him. I jumped at the prospect of making some money with my own operation. I was to take the parts to some place in British Colombia and drop them off. I think that the place is called Whitehorse; or some kind of horse. I loaded up four boxes, each weighing about 70 pounds each, into the back of the Beaver. I had my route planed out already. I had talked to some local pilots and they told me the best way to go. It seemed to be the long way around, but they said that it was the best because the weather, in the mountains, changed rapidly. This route would take me through the mountains and leave me with plenty of places in which I could land if the weather really got too bad to fly on.

After being in Juneau for three weeks, I could see that setting up my own flying business wasn’t going to work there, I was ready to move on to a spot where I would have better luck. I had one cargo flight out of Juneau, but that was all. I think that the guy felt a little sorry for my and let me have the cargo run. Anyway, I wasn’t coming back, so he only had to pay for the “one way” flight north. My Beaver was really looking good as she sat on the ramp just waiting for me and Kirby.

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Now it’s late August and I am ready to go. I had completed everything: Did the preflight, checked the weather, filed flight plans, checked the routing, filled the fuel tanks, added oil to the engine, and walked Kirby. Now to start the engine. It turned over slowly at first because of the stiff oil. After turning for two revelations, it lit off with a big puff of smoke. “Now that’s normal,” I told Kirby. I called the Juneau ground and was told to taxi to the active runway which was runway 8 at that time. The winds were not blowing too hard. I taxied to the end of the runway and did the final checks before flight. I was cleared for takeoff and turned onto the runway. Full power and the Beaver was airborne and climbing quickly.

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After takeoff, I asked for a 180 back towards Skagway. There was a cold front approaching and the weather was getting worse by the minute. I didn’t climb too high because I would be flying over water all the way. After being in the air for just ten minutes, it started to rain. It wasn’t too bad but I didn’t want to see it get any harder. The fresh paint just may not stick on the leading edges if the rain was too hard. I flew along the water for some time and made the turn up a fjord towards Skagway. The rain had almost stopped, but I wanted to land at Skagway anyway. I wanted to talk with some of the local pilots about which way through the mountains was best in this kind of weather. I approached the Skagway Sea Plane landing area, and landed.

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It was just a short taxi from there to the dock where I tied the Beaver. I walked, with Kirby, to the airport and found some pilots who were willing to tell me about the mountain passes. I was told to fly up white pass; that was the best way through the mountains near Skagway. I could follow the railroad most of the way. When I reached the top of the pass, I would find some lakes. They pointed them out to me on my map. We talked for a while and then I had my lunch.

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We walked back to the aircraft and checked things out. I untied the Beaver and soon we were adrift. I started the engine and taxied to the takeoff area. I would be taking off and passing over the buildings of Skagway. I looked around to see just where I could set the Beaver down if I had a problem. It looked as if the airport would be the best place. I turned the Beaver and we took off. I kept the Beaver’s nose up really high in an effort to gain as much altitude as I could as soon as possible.

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I had talked with an old pilot who had flown these mountains for around 22 years. He told me to fly up White Pass, keeping the railroad in sight. I spotted the railroad on the left side of the pass, a small river and a road on the left side of the pass. It was really narrow in places, but the 4,500 feet altitude he suggested was plenty to clear the valley below. I was to watch the map closely because I would be making a turn at the top of the pass. One fact that I learned from the old pilot was that at the top of the pass, the water begins flowing northward and not to the ocean between 60 and 70 miles away. The water from those lakes flow into rivers which will flow into the Yukon River for the most part. These lakes are the beginning of the 1,200, or more, trip to the Bearing Sea in western Alaska. I now had the desire to see this river. If I followed the railroad, I would end up in Carcross before reaching Whitehorse. That was not the way I wanted to go.

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I soon saw the small lakes, filled with rocks of all kinds, just as the map (chart) had shown. These small lakes drain into the Pacific Ocean along the southwestern shores of Alaska. After crossing the small lakes, I saw a small spot of higher ground and more lakes, larger ones, beyond. I started making my turn in an effort to follow these lakes towards the east. I wanted to fine Atlin which was along one of these larger lakes. I must have followed this lake for some time before seeing it end and another lake just beyond. That was the lake I wanted and headed towards Atlin where I would drop off two of the large 70 pound boxes. The small town of Atlin wasn’t too hard to find at all. There aren’t many towns in this area so seeing just one was quite a thrill. I wanted to land at the airport so I made my approach over the seaplane base.

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I landed on runway 36 and taxied to the end where there was some small buildings, one of which was the Canadian Customs Office. I had to stop and check in because I was coming form the US. I don’t think that they thought that I was smuggling anything into Canada because of all those lakes where I could have landed. They just wanted to know the aircraft was in the country and who was flying it. They did want to know about those helicopter parts I was carrying. Seems that they watch aircraft parts quite well because of “bogus” parts often make their way onto the market. With my paperwork in order, I was good to go.

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Now for the thirty-five minute flight to Whitehorse in the YK. I taxied to the end of runway 18 and departed. The winds were calm and it didn’t matter which runway I used. No traffic today and there may not be any tomorrow. This really is a desolate place. Now I know why I am required to carry survival gear in the aircraft. The old pilot was right, staying over the lakes did give me a place to land just in case the weather turned bad or I had a problem with the aircraft. He also suggested that I get myself a small book and take down the AM radio station frequencies of the small towns which have radio stations. They only have a range of 30 to 40 miles, but they could be used to find one’s self just in case you get lost. Me get lost? No, not me. Well I may not want to admit it, but just trying to keep track of my position was really challenging. The lakes and mountains all start to look alike after a while. I headed up the lake and soon saw a bridge crossing the water. That was really something to see in this part of the world. I found it quickly on the map. It was the Togish Bridge near the small town of Togish. I was flying over Marsh Lake at the time. This would be the last large lake before the water flows into a river; the Yukon River. Now All I have to do is follow the river until I reach Whitehorse some 20 miles away. I called the Whitehorse Tower and was told to report on a downwind for runway 13 left. Wow, an airport with more than one runway. I entered the downwind and was cleared to land. After the landing, I taxied to the parking area where I was to drop off my cargo; two remaining 70 pound boxes of parts.

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Now I will spend a few days in Whitehorse and see if I can pick up any work. The Canadian officials inspected my airplane, my papers and gave me approval to operate for hire in Canada. Now I’m good to go if I can just make enough money to sleep in a hotel and get away from this tent thingy. Kirby doesn’t mind the tent at all, but I surely do.

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Re: Silverfox Goes To Alaska
« Reply #18 on Oct 18, 2009, 1:59pm »

AWPIREP AW612 SEA CYXY-CEX4-CYDA Beaver on pontoons 122 minutes

Even though the weather has turned colder, I was enjoying my stay in Whitehorse. I managed to pick up one flight, but things didn’t seem to be working out for me. I talked to the dispatcher for VIVA Airlines who told me that I wouldn’t be getting very many flights. When I asked why, he told me that the Canadian Government wanted to keep it’s own citizens busy. Because I was an American, I would be only getting flights which VIVA could not supply service for. With that in mind, I gave it some thought about moving on to Alaska. The dispatcher told me that some operations from the Fairbanks area were picking up some of their customers along the border. Aviation was bombing in that area. I told him that maybe I should go there and set up my business there. I would give Whitehorse another week before making up my mind for sure.

I was really surprised when the dispatcher from VIVA called me one evening. He had a real deal for me. Some people were arriving in Whitehorse and wanted to be flown to Fairbanks. I asked why he didn’t send one of his own aircraft and he told me that there was a catch to all this. It was a one way flight and the people wanted to make some stops along the way. They wanted to fly along the Yukon River as far as they could before going to Fairbanks. Because of the cost of having to fly the aircraft back from Fairbanks to Whitehorse, the people didn’t want to pay that cost. I guess they thought it was like the train they were coming in on, It ran anyway so it shouldn’t cost for it to return to Whitehorse. He would let me have the flight if I wanted it; it would take me about three or four days to make the flight with the stops the people wanted. I jumped at the opportunity of moving on to Alaska and getting paid to do so. Anyway, I wanted to see more of the Yukon River myself.

The day of the flight arrived and I met with the people; a couple with a 14 year old boy. I knew from the start that this wasn’t going to be the normal flight. For one thing, teenage boys know it all and don’t like to be told they don’t. The boy wanted to sit up front with me and “help” do the flying. Now I didn’t mind that at first, but when he wanted to make some of the landings on the water, I had to draw the line there. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. They didn’t have very much baggage; just two bags each. That left plenty of room for Kirby to ride in the back of the airplane. Now he didn’t mind giving up his seat because he would sleep most of the way. We boarded the aircraft, I started the engine, taxied to the end of runway 13 R, and we were off on our journey along the Yukon River northward.

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After takeoff, I turned across the city of Whitehorse and picked up the river. Turning northward, I followed the river but I didn’t make all of the twisting turns which it made. I kind of straightened our flight out a little. Now there would be places where I would have to make some tight turns, but this wasn’t one of them yet. With Whitehorse behind us, the landscape changed rapidly. The hills were very rolling and soon changed into some smaller mountains. The river seemed to open up into a very wide area which was marked on my map, really called a ‘sectional chart,’ as Lake Laberge.

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This lake is quite large. It is in an area where the river is really moving quite slowly. Because of the slow movement, and the large input form other small streams emptying into the lake, the Yukon River is really wide forming this lake. We flew along this lake for a while and then the river turned northward again. We followed the river for some desistance before seeing another large river flowing into it. Thais was the Teslin River which drained thousand of square miles of land area in northwestern Canada. This large river made the Yukon grow in size and added to it’s flow greatly. That’s the way it seemed to be, small streams and rivers were forming this great river as it ran towards the sea.

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Now the teen at my right wanted to know if he could fly for a while. After all, he had been watching me for some time and just knew that flying the aircraft wasn’t that hard to do. Now that we were in the air, and flying the aircraft wasn’t really that hard, I let him “wiggle” the controls as he called it. I didn’t say anything to him, but I adjusted the elevator trim as required to maintain altitude. He moved the ailerons making turns along the river. His parents were amazed at how quickly he caught on. He didn’t have his feet on the rudder peddles, so I caused the aircraft to go in the direction I wanted it to go. Now they thought that this youngster was doing everything which was required to keep this machine flying. After a while, we began to run into some fog along the river. This caused the youngster to be upset because he couldn’t follow the river along the twisting turns of an area called “Klondike Bend.” I had to take over and fly until we reached the small town of Carmacks. I flew along the river looking at the airport.

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There was one thing that was really giving me a problem. I was accustomed to flying in the eastern part of the US where the magnetic variation is just a few degrees. Now I find myself flying towards the west (magnetic compass reading) while I am traveling towards the northwest. This 27 degrees east, is really causing me a problem. Before just a few degrees didn’t seem to matter very much. But now, this really does make one think. Let me see now, what’s the old saying? East is least and west is best; or is it the other way around? Anyway, when the compass says that I’m flying north, I really am flying to the northwest according to the map. They wanted to stop at Carmacks, so I made my approach over the bridge which crossed the Yukon River at this town. I was glad that they wanted to make a stop because the fog was really getting pretty bad by this time. Hopefully, this fog would lift as the sun would burn it off. Now that the clouds were becoming less, this would happen quickly.

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After being in the small town for over an hour, they thought that they had bought enough “trinkets” and were ready to be on their way. We went back to the aircraft which was parked near the bridge, and we took our seats once again. The teen really said some bad things to his father when the man asked if he could ride up front.
As it turned out, the man was really his step father and did what the boy wanted. I guess that this would keep “peace” in the family. With the teen beside me again, I started the engine and taxied out into the river. The young man didn’t like it when I wouldn’t let him make the takeoff. He thought he could handle it and didn’t know why I shouldn’t let him try. An aircraft on water can be hard to handle at times and is no place to teach someone about flying. I made the takeoff and climbed to a safe altitude. With the aircraft trimmed for lever flight, I let him “wiggle” the ailerons for a while. Before long we were passing the junction of the Yukon and Pelley Rivers. This area is quite interesting. The Yukon River is flowing towards the northwest, while the Pelley River is flowing towards the southeast. They are running towards one another. The Yukon wins out and the water flows northwestward.

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We flew along the river as the sun made it’s was towards the horizon. Some of the mountains in the area have names, but many do not. I guess that just the highest ones are named. At least the map (chart) had some of the names on it which made me look as if I really knew my stuff about this area of Canada. The teen, can’t fool him, he saw me reading the map and told everyone that I was cheating. I had called their attention to one of the highest peaks in this area; Mount Cockfield some 6,090 feet above sea level.

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Now the river has cut into the surrounding mountains causing some of them to have very steep walls along the river. Some of these cliffs, were very high and steep. I took back over the flying as the river became more narrow and winding. We were only flying at 3,500 feet with some of the mountains running as much as 900 feet above our altitude. We passed through this area and the river valley widened out as it made junctions of other rivers.

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The airport at Dawson City is a good desistance from the town, so the passengers wanted me to land on the river. Not a problem for me to do, so I set up my approach for the landing near the town. There were a few aircraft already parked along the beach, so adding just one more shouldn’t hurt. I landed on the river which was very swift at this point. I taxied to the shore and parked. After shutting down the engine, we departed to spend the night. Most of the small town sits along the river, so walking was the best way to get to the hotel. Tomorrow will be another day unless they want to spend more time here. It looks as if there is plenty to do here. I hear that they are still taking gold from these streams around here. Just might find a spot and try my luck at finding some myself; that is if I can find someplace that doesn’t already belong to somebody.

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FS9 doesn’t have any town at Dawson City; just an airport. I landed on the river and parked where the city should be located.

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Re: Silverfox Goes To Alaska
« Reply #19 on Oct 21, 2009, 2:27pm »

AWPIREP AW612 SEA CYDA-PAEA-L20-PACR Beaver on pontoons 60 minutes

After spending two days at Dawson City in the Yukon, we were again ready to depart on our westward journey along the Yukon River. I met the passengers at the Beaver parked along the Yukon River. I didn’t want to leave the aircraft in the river for fear that it may break loose and float away during the night. The river is very swift along this area and, if loose, the aircraft would be miles down river in a very little time. I had just completed the preflight when the passengers arrived. They said that they had a wonderful time in this small town and were now ready to see more of Alaska. I told them that we were still in Canada. They said that they didn’t think that Canada was this big and wanted to know when we would reach Alaska. I told them that we would be crossing the border today; about 12 miles downstream. We would stop in Eagle, Alaska for a short stop and a customs check. We boarded the Beaver and I started the engine.

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After the engine had warmed up a little, I taxied into the river. Being careful in the swift current, I turned downriver. We were already moving at around 15 knots before I opened up the throttle. At this rate, the Beaver was airborne with just a very short takeoff run.

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I climbed to 2,500 feet and headed downriver. The banks were steep and the river valley was narrow along this stretch of the river. I set up the cruse power for this altitude. It was a cloudy day but we could still see the river, and the surrounding mountains, for miles ahead. After making some twisting and turning, we were crossing the border into Alaska. That didn’t take too long at all.

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Now it wasn’t too far until we were near the small town of Eagle, Alaska. I hear that there must be at least 12 people living there now. The town sits very near the river and has been flooded out many times in the past. The airport is on a small hill over looking the town and river. I’ll land on the river and taxi to the boat landing area.

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While in Eagle, I talked with some of the local people. They told me that tons of gold was shipped from the area south of here through this area. The river was the only form of transportation, and river boats visited Eagle every day up until the ice formed on the river. The gold came from a small town called Chicken. I was told, by some local people, that the town of Chicken was named that because no one in the town could spell the name of the Alaskan state bird. They could spell chicken, so the town was named Chicken. There is a small creek, called Chicken Creek, and that’s where most of the gold came from. I’ll have to visit that place someday and see for myself. I was told that there was gold in about every stream around this part of Alaska. The only problem with that was it was so hard to get to some of the streams. Most of the surface, or near the surface, gold has long been taken. What’s left is frozen in something they called “permafrost.” The ground stays frozen all the time with just the top few inches, to a foot, thawing out during the late summer. I asked how they managed to thaw the ground out to get the gold out at Chicken and was told that men took pipes and sank them into the ground. These pipes were filled with steam, and the steam melted the ground so that the mining dredge could scoop up the dirt and gravel. It made so much noise, that on a day with the wind blowing just right, one could hear the dredge miles away as it shook the gold from the dirt and gravel. This history lesson was really good, but it soon was time to be moving along. We departed Eagle in the midmorning heading towards the northwest again. Now the river was flowing between some really steep mountains which made it twist and turn. At times the river was heading north, and within half a mile, it would be heading south. It made a steady movement to the northwest as it ran between these mountains.

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The passengers were told about a lodge at the small town at Coal Creek. They wanted to eat lunch there. I looked at the chart in my lap and saw that the river was still winding in that area, but it was plenty wide. I would try a landing across the widest point just a few hundred yards up stream from Coal Creek. The landing wasn’t the best in the world, but I did manage to get down without tipping the aircraft over. I wouldn’t want to be doing this everyday because of the danger involved. After lunch, the passengers wanted to be moving along. Staying the night wasn’t what they wanted even though they were told that this lodge was really a good one. I guess that depends on what one is used to in that department. For me, it was really good. It was soon back into the air for us. The takeoff was almost as difficult as the landing. I was really glad that the Beaver doesn’t need too much of a takeoff run. I climbed out over some trees along the opposite bank.

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By now we were getting a little low on fuel. The last fuel was added at Whitehorse. I had not landed at any airports, so I could not refuel. I just hoped that Circle City, our next town along the river, has some furl. We flew along the river for a short time and soon found ourselves entering an area where the river flow slowed a little and the valleys were wider. I found the airport, and headed towards it. I would be landing on a gravel runway so I planed to land short and stop quickly so as not to kick up too much gravel and damage my paint job. I like to take care of my equipment every chance I get. I lined up on the runway and set up for the landing. On the short final, I made one last check of things. “GUMP” was the byword which means; Gas, Undercarriage, UNDERCARRIAGE??? I almost forgot the wheels. I guess that one gets used to landing on the water where the wheels are not needed and forget all about them when landing on the ground. I put the wheels down and checked the Mixture and the Propeller for the proper positions.

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I guess that you did notice on this picture that the three green lights are not showing green. I placed the landing gear down and landed on the runway. I taxied to the parking area where I could refuel the aircraft. Because of the weather, we would be spending the night here. I just hoped that these low clouds would be gone by morning. I hate flying in bad weather when passengers want to sightsee.

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silverfox
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Re: Silverfox Goes To Alaska
« Reply #20 on Nov 5, 2009, 2:34pm »

AWPIREP AW612 SEA PACR-PFYU-WBQ-SVS-PAFA Beaver on pontoons 105 minutes

The weather hasn’t been all that good lately. We have had to spend two days here at Circle City, Alaska. There is little to do around here except watch the grass grow. I found plenty to do around the Beaver. It seems that there is always cleaning to do. Someone once said that if a radial engine is not leaking oil, then it doesn’t have any oil in it. I guess that’s right because it is always putting some sort of oil on the airframe no matter how many attempts I make at stopping oil seepage. I managed to clean the spark plugs one afternoon when it wasn’t raining. But today, things are looking up. The fog has disappeared over night and there are just a few clouds in the sky today. My passengers must be in a hurry to be moving on because they are here already and it’s an hour before our takeoff time. I guess we will be leaving early which is fine with me and Kirby. At this rate, we will be in Stevens Village long before evening. We will be spending the night there before flying through the mountains as we follow the Yukon River westward.

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With everything in order, we make our departure and climb to a safe altitude. I’ll use 2,500 feet today; we’ll be able to see everything along the river that way. In this area, the river has slowed somewhat and now is getting wider. The valley is really becoming wide at this point; almost four miles wide now. With the sun behind us, we began our flight to the west as the passengers snap some photos of the area. The teenager is in the front right hand seat and is always ready to take the controls. I’ll let him try again today, he did pretty good the other day.

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The young man is doing fine today with his flying. It isn’t too hard to do because we will be flying in a straight line almost all the way. Now the valley is really wide; five to seven miles in spots. That would mean that the river is moving slowly, because of it’s width, and will have many gravel bars in it. These gravel bars are really hard on the pontoons when landing if you should hit one of them. The biggest problem is that they are not in the same place all the time. Some will stay put for years and even grow small trees on them while others will be just under the surface of the water and move almost daily. As we near Ft. Yukon, I take over the controls and set up for the landing. The water is deep in the spot I want to land, so I guide the Beaver towards that spot. I could land at the airport, but then we would have a long walk to reach the small village along the river bank. Landing on the water will enable us to be right near the heart of this small village.

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After landing I taxi to the shore and park the Beaver. This small village has some history behind it and we spend more time than we wanted to spend there. It was so close to lunch time, we had an early lunch with some of the local people. They were more than willing to share the past of the village with us. They don’t get many visitors here, so having someone from as far away as Seattle was really a treat. “Just think,” one of them remarked, “They came all the way form Seattle just to see us.” Well, that’s one way of looking at it. Now it’s time to say goodbye to them and be on our way. I taxi out onto the water and soon we were airborne heading west again.

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This would be only a 25 minute, or so, flight to the village of Beaver, Alaska. After flying over this wide river with the wide valley on either side of, it soon became boring to me. Maybe it was the lunch, the afternoon sun or the lack of sleep last night is what made me sleepy. I opened the small side window to my left a little and let the cool air blow into my face. That worked for a little while until the female passenger said that it seemed a little drafty back where she was. I closed the window and tried to keep busy before I fell asleep. It was one of those days where there isn’t a ripple in the sky. I almost was wishing for something to bump us around so I could keep busy, but alas, that was not about to happen. Was I glad to see the small village of Beaver ahead of us. I made the landing approach over the small town area and set down on the river.

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After landing, I taxied to the shore and shutdown the engine. It was now just after 2 in the afternoon; we should be in Stevens Village by 4 at least. We walked into the village and took a look around. Again, these people were really glad to have visitors and it became really hard to leave. Every time we tried to leave, another one would have another story to tell us. Now don’t get me wrong, I do like a good story but we should be moving along. After being in Alaska for a few years, I got over that “moving along” feeling and just enjoyed hearing the stories. Now it’s on again as we departed Beaver, Alaska. As we flew closer to Stevens Village, I could see the valley becoming more narrow. There were some mountains looming ahead of us just on the other side of Stevens Village. I made the approach for another water landing.

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I parked the Beaver and started to “bed” her down for the night. Just after I had installed the engine cover, the young teenager came running up to the aircraft. “It’s grandpa,” he said trying to get his breath, “He’s had - hart attack - in a bad way. Dad wants to - leave now.” “Hold on there,” I interrupted, “ Slow down and take deep breaths. Now then, who’s grandpa we talking about?” “My grandpa,” he replied, “Dad’s father.” “Now then,” I said, “He’s had a heart attack and is not going good?” The young man shook his head “yes.” “Now,” I asked, “Your father wants to know if we can leave right now?” He shook his head again. “Tell him,” I said, “We can leave anytime, he wants. But to where?” The young man replied with just one word, “Fairbanks.” “I’ll have the airplane ready,” I stated, “You go get your mother and father. Tell them I’m sorry about the bad news.” The young man ran back towards the town. I still don’t know where he found a telephone way up here. I hadn’t seen one in over a week or so. Soon my passengers arrived and we were off to Fairbanks. The sun was really low by this time. We would be arriving in Fairbanks near sundown and darkness. Oh well, Kirby is not afraid of the dark.

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I took off and turned towards the south and the Fairbanks area. We would be crossing some mountains on the way south, but the charts said that 5,500 feet would clear all of them. I climbed to 5,500 feet and leveled the Beaver off. I was told that Alaskan Airlines had just bought some Boeing Jets and were beginning to fly some of them out of Fairbanks. I set the power up for a high speed cruse; want to be in Fairbanks as soon as possible. I looked back to my right and was what the sun was about to set. What a beautiful sight. Too bad my passengers would not be able to enjoy it; they have more pressing things on their minds.

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Soon the Fairbanks area was insight. I called the Fairbanks Tower and was told to report on a left hand downwind for runway 1 L. I entered the downwind leg and called the tower. When I was about to turn onto the base leg, I was cleared to land. I asked the tower where I could take passengers to catch an airline. They told me to make a turn off of the runway to the right and ground would direct me. I made the base leg and turned onto the final approach. The sun was setting behind me as I crossed the approach lights for the runway. What a big place I thought. Not what I expected this far north.

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After landing I made a right hand turn onto the taxiway and called ground control. I was directed to the parking area next to some Alaskan Airlines Jets. I stopped the Beaver and shutdown the engine. To make sure that my passengers were taken care of, I escorted them to the small building where they could take an airline south. They were in luck. Alaskan Airlines was going to Juneau in just over an hour and they had 20 open seats. I told my passengers farewell and headed back to the parked Beaver.

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When I arrived at the Beaver I found a man walking around the aircraft. I knew he wasn’t about to steal anything with Kirby sitting inside. He introduced himself as Joao Paz, the CEO of Alaskan Winds; a small upcoming Air Carrier in Alaska. We talked for a while about mostly flying and what I was doing in Alaska. After an hour or so, we parted with one thought in mind; if my small flying jobs did not work out I could call him and see about a job. He said he always was on the lookout for bush pilots.

I tried to make my way in the Fairbanks area for the next two and a half years. It was close some months, but I was keeping my head above water anyway. Then on one cold winter afternoon things changed. I was returning to Fairbanks, after delivering 1,200 pounds of cargo to Ft. Yukon, when things went, - - let’s just say, south. Because of the high winds at altitude, I was flying in VFR conditions through the mountains. I had flown the first pass without any problems, but in the second pass, I ran into some snow showers. Not being able to see much, I decided to climb higher. I set the power for the climb, but because of the winds, I wasn’t climbing fast enough. I set up full power for a better climb. After the five minute limit for using full power, I reduced the power. Now I had been told that most of engine failures happen when the power is reduced but I was not ready for this. The Beaver began showing her age, and the cylinder head, for the cylinder just in front of me, let go. I mean it blew apart driving the head up against the cowling making a bulge I could see from the outside. I have never heard such a noise as this before, but the next noise I have heard before. It was the sound of a broken exhaust pipe.

Not a problem I thought. I have heard of aircraft flying hundreds of miles with a separated cylinder and not having a problem. But this was not the same thing now. This was little ole me in here. The cylinder head had pulled an oil line loose and oil was spraying from the line. It soon covered the windshield. That was alright, I can fly on the gauges. But only thing bothered me at this time. Just how long would it be before the broken exhaust set the oil on fire? Should I fly on and take the chance or land now before the fire starts. Some choice; land now when nothing is really wrong, or go down in flames? The flames didn’t appeal to me, so I started looking for a place to land. There was a small lake between some mountains which I could land on. It was frozen, but was long enough for the landing. I didn’t want to get too close to the edges because of rough ice. I lined the Beaver up with the lake for a downwind landing. Had to do that because of the mountains being so close. The touchdown was good and the lake surface ice was smooth. Only one problem now. When I tried the brakes, the tires locked up and started sliding. As the Beaver slowed, the rudder could not hold the nose straight and we started turning to the left. I soon saw that we were going to hit the ice at the edge of the lake sideways. And we did. The right pontoon dug into the ice causing the aircraft to roll up on it’s right wing. When the wingtip hit the shore, the pontoon rolled under the Beaver. It only took a few seconds, but it was all over now. The Beaver was laying on it’s right pontoon with the right wingtip on the ground. My pride was hurt worse than that. It took three days before a sled dog team picked us up.

The insurance company paid for the Beaver, but she was gone. So was my way of living. I thought about what to do. I was going to return to the lower 48 and finish my two years of collage and try to find a job. But while waiting to return, I contracted to fly as a co-pilot on a DC-3 cargo run to Nome. We arrived in Nome late in the afternoon for overnight stay. Without anything to do that afternoon, I stayed at the airport. Guess who I found there? Yep, JP himself. Well there’s not much more to tell. I went to work for him and stayed in Alaska as a bush pilot. It’s been some years now and I look forward to many more to come.

As for the Beaver; a salvage company bought it and took all of the salvageable parts when the lake ice melted. The next year, using a Sikersky H-34 Choctaw Helicopter, sometimes called the S-58, they airlifted the remaining parts out. It took another three years to do, but she has been rebuilt and is still flying in Alaska. It has the same green and gray paint design on it. You just may park beside her one of these days; who knows?

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