Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2015 10:49:36 GMT -5
Dawn comes much later in August, up here in the semi-far north of Alaska. Andy had me taking a woman down to Bootlegger's Cove, then run across to Seldovia and pick up some gear from a friend to bring back to Homer. I was getting used to the ridiculous performance of his modified Super Cub on tundras as I blasted out of Homer (using maybe 180 feet of runway!) and turned south over Kachemak Bay. Climbing to 1500 ft to stay below the slight lifting fog out over the ocean, I set a course of 165 degrees and enjoyed the scenery as it slid by me underneath. The run over to Bootlegger's, a small, private strip that was anything but level, took all of about 15 minutes. I lined up on final for 12 (or 13, or 11, or whatever the hell it was) and slowed to 55 indicated. As I rounded out, I added a blast of power at the last minute to get myself in a climbing attitude, which had me doing a wheel landing due to the upslope of the runway along the first half. The second half was downhill so I wanted to get stopped ASAP. That turned out not to be a problem and I had to actually add power to get over the hill at the middle of the 1200 ft runway. At the small hangar where an AS350 was parked, I deposited my passenger and then backtracked down to the end of the runway I had approached from. Applying full power, the little Cub accelerated despite the rather steep slope and before I had used up one third of the runway, I was off and flying. Lowering the nose to gain speed, I headed west to Seldovia.
Overhead Bootlegger's Cove
On the way I noticed a couple of other small strips along the way - Kasitsna and Jakalof (won't tell you the nickname for the latter!) which were nothing more than beach strips. I wondered what happened to them when the tide was in but apparently they don't flood. At Seldovia I had to clear a tree at the very end of the runway (apparently a crew is coming to take it down, but so far...), but this was an 1800 ft strip which was about 4 times what this airplane needs so we were still down and stopped before the first turnoff. Taxiing in, I found Jake by his Super Cub, which was undergoing repairs, and picked up the supplies he was sending back to Homer. Turns out Jake damaged his Cub on a tundra landing a week ago and while he flew it back, he said the flight was "interesting", to put it mildly.
Landing Seldovia
I was loaded to gross for the return trip but still the Super Cub was off in under 500 ft and we were headed more or less directly for Homer after clearing the hill adjacent Seldovia's airport. At 1000 ft, it was a very relaxing trip, although I did look down more than once and imagined how chilly that arctic water would be. The engine purred along as smooth as silk (well, rough silk, but all airplane engines run rough compared with a car engine in my opinion). Before long I was landing on 04 at Homer and had to add power to make the first turnoff. This airplane is "sick" as the kids today would say.
Over the next 3 weeks I was kept so busy I barely had time to think. One trip in particular stood out though. I was landing on a tundra hilltop to pick up a geologist. As I pulled the power back in the flare, suddenly from nowhere I had this huge animal charging across right in my path. I poured the power on and it lifted me just enough to clear his backside. The terrain prevented a full go around though so I chopped the power again and landed a bit heavily, which on these tires caused a whole lot of 'interesting' gyrations! I managed to get it stopped ok though and nothing was bent. I asked the geologist what the hell that was as I only caught a glimpse of the critter. "Caribou" replied the geologist. I never saw him or I would have warned you off, but he came right up over that hill and headed straight for you. I don't know how you two missed each other but man, that was close!!" I was still shaking as I loaded him and his gear on board. We turned to take off in the direction we had just come from as it was downhill, but before applying the power I waited to see if anything was coming up over the rise at us. Nothing came so off we went. It was an uneventful flight back but it had me thinking.
"So, never want to fly to the tundra again, Glenn?" Andy asked, looking bemused. "Hell yeah, I want to go back! Despite you needing a new seat in your airplane, that was a blast!!" I replied. Andy just laughed a kind of knowing laugh. And that 'twinkle' was back in his eye. I flew 4 more trips that day while Andy did 2, and then I did 6 more the following day and 3 the day after that. The next day was fogged out but I more than made up for it on the following 3 days.
It was the morning that had me looking at the calendar which showed 4 more days until I was to board Era's Dash 8 again for the trip to Anchorage, then south. Andy asked if he could have a word.
"Glenn," he started, looking serious, "you seem to like it here. Maybe more than you thought you would when you boarded the plane at Seattle? Well, here's the deal. I'm not getting any younger. The doctor has told me he's a bit concerned with my heart. It's not enough to pull my ticket yet, but I have to slow down. I want this operation to continue here. People need me. People need us. This service isn't about rich folks needing a classy ride to the show in Seattle or Eugene or Anchorage. This ops is about people getting their mail, their groceries, their medicines. This is also about scientists getting their samples which go towards protecting the environment and the parks here. This service isn't a luxury. It's a necessity. Now, I want to keep the name as I started it waaay back in the day and it's part of me. I want you to continue it though, and to be the owner/operator, and maybe I'll do some flying for you. You do it under your own name and with whatever aircraft you deem suitable. I think you'd like living here. There's good people here and the work is honest, if difficult at times. I think you'd find it to your liking though. Whadd'ya say?"
I thought for a moment. My head was swimming. I realized just yesterday that all the anxiety I had come up here with was gone. I was like a new man. This had been just what I needed, and was getting back to what I loved best - working in the bush. I had said it before - this felt like home. The people, the country, the weather - all was what I had wanted for years now. Perhaps ever since leaving Air Caribou behind so many years ago.
I really didn't have to think about it much. "So, what should I call this new air service Andy?" I asked, smiling back at his half smiling, half serious expression. "I dunno man. That's up to you, but I'm sure it will be fitting."
For the rest of the morning I sat and pondered the full meaning of this move. I also thought back to the trips I had taken over the past 3 weeks. The landing on the lake that had 3 Grizzly cubs frolicking in the water by the shore; the trip where I rescued a loon chick that had got entangled in a net someone had carelessly left lying about; oh, and especially the trip where the caribou had run right out in front of me. That one was indelibly imprinted on my mind!
I met up with Andy just before our next flight over to Quartz Creek and on to Seward with an exec from the mine there. "Andy?"
"Yep?" he said. "Air Caribou. I kept control of the name when I sold the company back in Ontario. Caribou seem to have a special affinity for me, and I for them. Especially after that incident picking up the Geologist a few days ago."
"Air Caribou it is. I told you you would find a fitting name," Andy said, breaking out in a big grin as he spoke.
That afternoon I phoned in my resignation from PNW Air Ambulance, with apologies. They had seen this before and understood, and wished me well. Right after that I went to the town offices and applied for permanent residency papers and started looking for a place to live. The following week when there was a break in the schedule, I headed south again, but this time only to pick up the rest of my belongings, put my place up for sale, and get my behind back up 'home' to Homer.
Overhead Bootlegger's Cove
On the way I noticed a couple of other small strips along the way - Kasitsna and Jakalof (won't tell you the nickname for the latter!) which were nothing more than beach strips. I wondered what happened to them when the tide was in but apparently they don't flood. At Seldovia I had to clear a tree at the very end of the runway (apparently a crew is coming to take it down, but so far...), but this was an 1800 ft strip which was about 4 times what this airplane needs so we were still down and stopped before the first turnoff. Taxiing in, I found Jake by his Super Cub, which was undergoing repairs, and picked up the supplies he was sending back to Homer. Turns out Jake damaged his Cub on a tundra landing a week ago and while he flew it back, he said the flight was "interesting", to put it mildly.
Landing Seldovia
I was loaded to gross for the return trip but still the Super Cub was off in under 500 ft and we were headed more or less directly for Homer after clearing the hill adjacent Seldovia's airport. At 1000 ft, it was a very relaxing trip, although I did look down more than once and imagined how chilly that arctic water would be. The engine purred along as smooth as silk (well, rough silk, but all airplane engines run rough compared with a car engine in my opinion). Before long I was landing on 04 at Homer and had to add power to make the first turnoff. This airplane is "sick" as the kids today would say.
Over the next 3 weeks I was kept so busy I barely had time to think. One trip in particular stood out though. I was landing on a tundra hilltop to pick up a geologist. As I pulled the power back in the flare, suddenly from nowhere I had this huge animal charging across right in my path. I poured the power on and it lifted me just enough to clear his backside. The terrain prevented a full go around though so I chopped the power again and landed a bit heavily, which on these tires caused a whole lot of 'interesting' gyrations! I managed to get it stopped ok though and nothing was bent. I asked the geologist what the hell that was as I only caught a glimpse of the critter. "Caribou" replied the geologist. I never saw him or I would have warned you off, but he came right up over that hill and headed straight for you. I don't know how you two missed each other but man, that was close!!" I was still shaking as I loaded him and his gear on board. We turned to take off in the direction we had just come from as it was downhill, but before applying the power I waited to see if anything was coming up over the rise at us. Nothing came so off we went. It was an uneventful flight back but it had me thinking.
"So, never want to fly to the tundra again, Glenn?" Andy asked, looking bemused. "Hell yeah, I want to go back! Despite you needing a new seat in your airplane, that was a blast!!" I replied. Andy just laughed a kind of knowing laugh. And that 'twinkle' was back in his eye. I flew 4 more trips that day while Andy did 2, and then I did 6 more the following day and 3 the day after that. The next day was fogged out but I more than made up for it on the following 3 days.
It was the morning that had me looking at the calendar which showed 4 more days until I was to board Era's Dash 8 again for the trip to Anchorage, then south. Andy asked if he could have a word.
"Glenn," he started, looking serious, "you seem to like it here. Maybe more than you thought you would when you boarded the plane at Seattle? Well, here's the deal. I'm not getting any younger. The doctor has told me he's a bit concerned with my heart. It's not enough to pull my ticket yet, but I have to slow down. I want this operation to continue here. People need me. People need us. This service isn't about rich folks needing a classy ride to the show in Seattle or Eugene or Anchorage. This ops is about people getting their mail, their groceries, their medicines. This is also about scientists getting their samples which go towards protecting the environment and the parks here. This service isn't a luxury. It's a necessity. Now, I want to keep the name as I started it waaay back in the day and it's part of me. I want you to continue it though, and to be the owner/operator, and maybe I'll do some flying for you. You do it under your own name and with whatever aircraft you deem suitable. I think you'd like living here. There's good people here and the work is honest, if difficult at times. I think you'd find it to your liking though. Whadd'ya say?"
I thought for a moment. My head was swimming. I realized just yesterday that all the anxiety I had come up here with was gone. I was like a new man. This had been just what I needed, and was getting back to what I loved best - working in the bush. I had said it before - this felt like home. The people, the country, the weather - all was what I had wanted for years now. Perhaps ever since leaving Air Caribou behind so many years ago.
I really didn't have to think about it much. "So, what should I call this new air service Andy?" I asked, smiling back at his half smiling, half serious expression. "I dunno man. That's up to you, but I'm sure it will be fitting."
For the rest of the morning I sat and pondered the full meaning of this move. I also thought back to the trips I had taken over the past 3 weeks. The landing on the lake that had 3 Grizzly cubs frolicking in the water by the shore; the trip where I rescued a loon chick that had got entangled in a net someone had carelessly left lying about; oh, and especially the trip where the caribou had run right out in front of me. That one was indelibly imprinted on my mind!
I met up with Andy just before our next flight over to Quartz Creek and on to Seward with an exec from the mine there. "Andy?"
"Yep?" he said. "Air Caribou. I kept control of the name when I sold the company back in Ontario. Caribou seem to have a special affinity for me, and I for them. Especially after that incident picking up the Geologist a few days ago."
"Air Caribou it is. I told you you would find a fitting name," Andy said, breaking out in a big grin as he spoke.
That afternoon I phoned in my resignation from PNW Air Ambulance, with apologies. They had seen this before and understood, and wished me well. Right after that I went to the town offices and applied for permanent residency papers and started looking for a place to live. The following week when there was a break in the schedule, I headed south again, but this time only to pick up the rest of my belongings, put my place up for sale, and get my behind back up 'home' to Homer.
