As you saw from Scout's images, last weekend was the Fly-to-Fish jamboree at Jaranson International.

4 airplanes from Brainerd fired up and headed north but as we got north of Lake Roosevelt the weather started to go really skunky. I rode up with Rory in his 90 hp Super Cub. (The PA-12 stuck in close to us so he didn't get lost - GPS, what is that?...). But AWOS along the route was reporting that it wasn't getting any worse so we kept poking along.

Getting north of Grand Rapids into the Mesabi Range, aircraft all over the north end of the State were popping up from strips and airports, heading for Crane Lake and "Jaranson International". Soon the frequency sounded like the LA basin and weather began to improve. By the time we hit Grassy Bay on Crane lake (across from Canadian Sand Point Customs) the junk was quickly dissapating and blue sky was breaking out everywhere.

Ski equipped guys landed on the lake anywhere they wanted but those with tires (Rory had put his Goodyear 26's on that morning) stayed on the snow machine trail that runs through Voyagers National Park. The snow was pretty crusty off the trail.

So fishing gear was pulled out and everbody got to work. But by the time we got set up the "bite" was ending and only Ben and a couple others in our crew got fish. One guy hooked a crappie by the tail and put it down a lady's fishing hole when she wasn't looking. She thought she had a monster fish on until pulling it up and realizing what had happened. Many high words were uttered at that point!

Okay, enough staring down the hole (Gary managed to fall in one up to his knee). Pulling out the vis was CAVU and we headed for lunch at the Voyagaire on the main body of Crane Lake. They have two ice runways there at Scott's Sea Plane Base - CDD identifier - with taxiways and the whole deal. (Hey bring your Cirrus...)

After lunch we headed down the Vermillion river system with 5 airplanes in line on the way to Jaranson "International". Stopped for fuel at Cook (The Cubs were turned up fairly high to stay with the Husky and 12) and then buzzed on in to frighten the denizens with the mighty roar of the C-90.

Only saw 1 wolf though out of the 7,000 the State has (way too many hungry doggies!), they can be sneaky critters, especially when the snow starts to melt and they can hide easier.

All in all great fun!

The high pressure systems have been making work hours unbearable around here lately. So with a nice Saturday outlook, I offered to take a coworker of mine out to a place she had been wanting to see. Although she's worked for a flight seeing outfit up here, and been to some pretty spectacular locations in the Alaska Range, it was the first occasion we had to fly together, so I was glad to have new company in 88A, and to introduce someone to the joys of a taildragger on skis.

It was -15 F at dawn, which delayed our early start plans slightly, but the plane had been plugged in overnight, and the day warmed up pretty quickly. We were off by 11:00, and flew out to our summer place, where I had some errands to accomplish.

Business taken care of, we crossed the spine of the range to a remote lake where some locals like to mush and snowmachine for overnights. There's a small cabin, and the nearby hills collect some fantastic powder snow for skiing. Almost everybody that knows about it brings skis. Whatever their ability level, everybody finds something fun to suit them.

We landed there, and met up with some friends who were out for a few nights, funhogging at the cabin. A couple had their small daughter, which was just great to see a child being introduced to healthy, outdoor recreation like that. It was fun to note all the modes of winter travel there today; snowmachines, a dog team, skis, and a ski plane. Felt like a winter backcountry travel expo.

I might add that a lot of the snow pack is really crusty and choppy and, well, downright sh*tty for ski flying this season. I've had a lot of first-time ski passengers this spring, and I've heard myself telling one after another of them, "It's not supposed to be like this, really, it's supposed to be like gliding into a down featherbed!" Anyway, this lake was covered in some heavenly, light pow, so for the first time all season, I didn't have to sing that tired refrain. Instead it was smooth as silk, for a change. Very welcome conditions.

We had about 45 minutes on the ground to visit, before my friend's commitments meant that we had to take off again for home. I was sorry not to have my tele skis and time to use them, but I definitely made a note about the conditions, and filed it away for the next nice weekend we get. 45 minutes en route to re-cross the range in a different location brought us, tired and glad, back home, just in time for this guy to go have a nice meal out.

I tied down the plane, put on the engine blanket, and decided that the other niceties could wait until morning. By now I had worked up a pretty good appetite! I had logged 3.1, made some respectable off-airport landings and take-offs, and flown at least two new-to-me mountain passes, so by my standards it was a full day, and a very enjoyable one.

Now there was only one problem- I had to stop off at home to get money for eating out. Swinging by my place, I noticed another friend out in her yard bucking firewood. I remember noticing that she was was well-dressed for the outdoor work. I waved hi, and went off to grab some dough.

The timing of what happened next was pretty miraculous, really. I stepped in my door, flung down my backpack of survival gear, camera, thermos, and so on. On the way to get my wallet, I walked by the computer, so of course I had to light it up and see what you guys had posted since morning. Now normally I can waste time that way with the best of 'em, but I was hungry for dinner, so it couldn't have been more than five minutes, tops.

In that window of five minutes between flying all day and getting ready to go out for the evening, my phone rings. (landline- I'm not a cell-user, so this connection wouldn't have worked if I hadn't been there in my house at the time.) I answer, and it's a local fellow I know calling in desperation on his satellite phone. He's out on a multi-week trip with his dog team, at least a hundred miles from any drivable road, and there's just been an accident and one of his lead dogs is badly hurt. He's calm and collected, but obviously wants to do anything he can to get his injured dog to help as quickly as possible. He wants to know if I could possibly get out to pick up his dog.

Shifting into gear, I tell him that of course I want to help him, but it's got to be fast, because there's only three hours of light left, and my personal minimums don't include nighttime over mountains with the moon rising late. Fortunately, the engine is still warm in 88A, my backpack is still laying on the floor at my feet, and I'm still wearing insulated bibs, mukluks, down jacket, heck, even my sunglasses. I tell him I'll be there in 1.5 or less.

Running out the door, I see my neighbor who was still bucking firewood. She knows sled dogs, and I want someone like that so she can deal with the dog and I can deal with the plane. I also knew from passing by earlier that she was dressed for it already, which would mean us launching quicker. She's also flown with me a lot, so there wouldn't be any wasted time explaining things. "I'm in", she said.

We must have been airborne inside of 15 minutes from the time the call came. Mag checks on back taxi, deal with avionics on climb out. Topping off the tanks was the only thing that delayed us on the ground, but since I can fuel at my tie down, it didn't add much time. Fortunately, the weather was continuing to hold beautifully. Winds aloft were favorable, and there were no clouds in the west to cause an early nightfall.

.8 later, we let down onto the lake where the musher was, right between the long shadows of the lowering sun. Conversation was pretty short and to-the-point. He's a great guy, though, and I made a mental note to get to know him better when circumstances are different. Unfortunately it is Easter weekend, and there is also a really big dog race out of Nome right now, so vets are in short supply. But he had reached a friend who was going to meet us at my home strip and take the dog. He gave us some meds, and written instructions, and then went to get the dog, which was over on the lakeshore with his young son, also on the trip.

Luther is a sweet dog- a 70 lb freight-hauling Alaska husky who has seen some beautiful trail miles in his day, through his one blue eye and one brown eye. It seems he got injured when the team came upon an open lead in the river, and he may have gone into it, or gotten tangled with trailing dogs that overtook him. Now his shoulder wasn't right. It was explained to us, but I wasn't able to give it my full attention, as I was already thinking about how to load him, and the return flight.

We made the back of the plane as comfortable as possible, with sleeping pads, engine cover, and a packing blanket that we brought along. Luther had never flown in a plane before, so for good measure we borrowed some short lead leashes and attached them to my cargo tie-downs. That way it was possible to clip his harness in, and make sure he could move side to side for comfort, but not too far aft. Never a whimper out of him. We were all set to climb in and go, when the little boy asked his dad if he could come up to the plane to say goodbye to his dog. About broke our hearts. We stepped aside and gave him all the time he needed.

By now there was no "between the shadows" anymore. It was pretty much all shadows on the lake, but more than an hour to go until real darkness would set in. The musher wanted us to know that whatever this was going to cost him, he was good for it and would settle up as soon as he got out. Of course I told him there was no way I would take any money from him. So for the second time in two weeks, I found myself shaking hands with a new friend and coming out of the deal richer in friendship and this time, in moose meat. I really need to placard 88A: "Will Fly for Game Meat!"

It may have been the meds he was given, but Luther was as relaxed a dog as I've ever been around, from the moment he was loaded into the plane, to the moment we unloaded him back at home. He did get a free upgrade to first class, which meant non-stop ear scratches the whole way. The evening air was smooth, and the light hitting the nearby peaks was the color of peaches. At one point the whole sky behind the plane was just orange. Could not have been any nicer.

We landed straight in in the waning light. As we taxied to the tie down, we were met by the guy who had agreed to take Luther from there. One last scratch on the head, and we wished him well and saw him on his way. I sure as hell hope that dog gets better. I finally did get around to finding a meal, but not before raising a glass to him.


-DenaliPilot


(Sorry if anyone feels this is too long for 'Where did you fly." I didn't really mean to write that much, but got a little carried away. Zane- I thought of putting it in trip reports, but I couldn't find where you do that, and it isn't actually TR material, exactly. Tomorrow I'll see about maybe adding some pictures.)

Great Story..

You are a good man Denali. All dog lovers should tost one to you. John

Great story. That's what this site is all about!!

Damn that's a great story.... Just love those canines... You go out of the room for 5 minutes and when you come back they give you a 15 year reunion welcome.... How much more loyal a friend can we have.....I'd do about anything I could for a dog! I'll tip one for Luther and his owner tonight too.... Great job Denali

That's just the sort of story I started this thread for! Kudos for a job well done and a good job of sharing it with the rest of us.

Shane

denalipilot wrote:Zane- I thought of putting it in trip reports, but I couldn't find where you do that, and it isn't actually TR material, exactly. Tomorrow I'll see about maybe adding some pictures.)

Up to you, DP... Me, I usually just put it in Around the Campfire with a "TR:" prefix.

One of the truest judges of character is seeing how someone treats animals. DenaliPilot you're right up there at the top in my book.

Gump

GumpAir wrote:One of the truest judges of character is seeing how someone treats animals. DenaliPilot you're right up there at the top in my book.

Gump

Hey, thanks. Just curious, though- are you referring to the dog evecuation, or the moose meat, or both?

Both, of course. If God didn't want us to eat animals, why'd he make 'em out of meat.

Gump

Thanks for the story, it was a good read. Got any more?

Hi everyone, thanks for all the nice words. I consider myself fortunate that I had an opportunity like that to be of service. I know you'd all do the same.

Instead of putting pics into the post, I made a gallery for them. If you'd like some visuals, they're here:

http://www.backcountrypilot.org/gallery ... ?album=467

-DP

Always interesting what you end up hauling to town for someone when you live in Alaska. I've done a dog med-evac myself, she got into the slug bait, as I recall.

That was a great story. I was wondering there for a minute when you started talking about the neighbor lady bucking firewood if this was going to be one of those Penthouse Forum type things...hey, it's been a long winter.

Take care,

gb

GumpAir wrote:Both, of course. If God didn't want us to eat animals, why'd he make 'em out of meat.

Gump

Meat is MURDER!!!..... Tasty, tasty murder.

gbflyer wrote:That was a great story. I was wondering there for a minute when you started talking about the neighbor lady bucking firewood if this was going to be one of those Penthouse Forum type things...hey, it's been a long winter.

Take care,

gb

denalipilot as he would have written it for Penthouse wrote:

And there she stood, wearing nothing but Mucklucks and an axe.

Running out the door, I see my neighbor who was still bucking firewood. She knows sled dogs, and I want someone like that so she can deal with the dog and I can deal with the plane. I also knew from passing by earlier that she was dressed for it already, which would mean me launching quicker. She's also flown with me a lot before, so there wouldn't be any wasted time explaining things. "I'm in", she said. "So am I", I replied...

Great story and pics! Thanks for these, DP.

CAVU

Well you can tell old Luther is in pain by the look of his ears. I do hope you'll keep us posted on luther. THey just put all their trust in their Humans don't they.

Well, Iceman, I just got real good news tonight. The musher phoned in again on his satellite phone with the prognosis. Luther got to Fairbanks, saw a vet, and the outcome is that he will get a pin in his shoulder and retire from running in harness. With the family he belongs to, I'm sure it'll be a real nice retirement.
It's not every kennel owner that can afford those kind of interventions, or chooses to. My hat's off to his owner.

Great, heres to Luther and his owner. I bet the kid is happy. And you made a good new friend....All's well that ends well, Huh?

Sierraville Hot Springs.

A spot we sought out shortly after moving to the Auburn area. After five years living here and a number of visits for camping and soaking; a perfect stop over on our way home from catarafting the Owyhee, riding motorcycles around Lassen and other such adventures, and then we got a plane!

Determined to land there we went up a few times initially circled the field and flew back home. Winds were squirrelly at best. Flying was new. We were/are cautious cats. (Come to find out the Indians called the Sierraville Valley the Valley of Many Winds.)

Well we have graced the place now numerous times in our little C140. It's 60 nautical miles from KAUN, and the perfect "Sunday" (rest of the world's Thursday) retreat. Fly up, get a 3 hour soak, fly home. One of the joys of working weekends, no one is there on weekdays.

So yesterday we head up there for the first time in the 170B, circle it once, circle it twice and I landed it, my first time at that little airstrip. I know it seems simple and perhaps petty, but it is still exciting for the novice pilot like myself to bag a new strip... like a new badge on the boyscout's vest, or a new flavor of cookie in the girlscout's cookie jar...

On a side note, a couple of years ago we were up there in our 140 and there was a 172 tied down there too. We thought to ourselves, "hun"; rarely if ever have we seen another plane there. Come to find out it was Berk Snow, on his way to or from Burning Man, I forget which. We met, talked about planes and great adventures, soaking in the warm pool overlooking the little valley airstrip.

We realized who he was seeing the memorial posted on the BCP home page. Seemed like a really neat guy. He was happy doing what he was doing no doubt. Who could ask for more?

While we are here we find ourselves always asking for/hoping for/praying for more time, but when we are gone I wonder if we can/could/would look back and go "wow, that was really great."