A Life Of Hard Work and Limited Time

My family has dairy farmed my entire life, and for all of that time the farm has been growing and the time available for recreation getting scarcer. The thing about farming is that the best times for recreation are also the best times for farm work. So I found myself at age 34 with a wonderful wife, 3 kids, and my summers slipping past me without giving my family the adventures and experiences I wanted for them. This is not to say I was struggling—I have a wonderful and blessed life—I just wanted more recreation time with my family.

A major contributor to our lack of adventures was the situation in British Columbia. This province is absolutely amazing, there are endless things to see and do but it's also massive. I've gone on hunting trips where my party drove 30 hours to our hunting camp and we never left B.C.

Photo: Matt Wall Flying high over the islands of the B.C. Sunshine Coast. Photos taken on a trip to Texada Island.

I live specifically in the Lower Mainland/Vancouver area of B.C. and while there is a lot to do within easy driving distance, in the summer you will always be competing with everyone else from the densely populated Vancouver area when you want to recreate. There are twice as many people here as when I was a kid but the recreational opportunities have remained the same. If you want to drive past the crowds you're looking at minimum of 5 hours travel each way in the summertime.

Photo: Matt Wall The Cessna 180 parked at a remote fish camp on Eutsuk Lake in North Tweedsmuir Park.

An Escape Plan

That winter, when I was 34, I really started to notice the float planes flying low over the river and right past my farm. They'd always done it but I'd never given them much thought—I'd been in light aircraft a handful of times but never a float plane.

One day my brother and I went a couple miles down the road to the local float plane base at Fort Langley and hired a plane for an hour. It was amazing, I was absolutely hooked. This, I thought, could be the solution to my problems, besides being amazing fun in its own right. There were new things to learn, new machinery to master, and amazing views of the world.

Photo: Matt Wall My father and oldest daughter walking down to the docks at Nimpo Lake for some fishing. The 180 is tied up along with Tweedsmuir's 185 and Super Cub. We enjoyed beautiful weather throughout this trip.

Poking around on Google Earth I saw endless possibilities for a float plane in the nearby mountains. Within a month I had gotten my medical and had started my training in a little Citabria 7ECA. I figured this would be no problem, just get a license and buy a float plane and we'll be off on our family adventures in the wildest parts of B.C. I laugh now at how little I knew.

Flight training took a couple years, fitting it in when work allowed. After I soloed I had to stop flying the Citabria, because it was based too far from my home. I switched schools and planes. Many lessons were learned, including "don't fly on zero sleep after the baby kept everyone awake all night," and "how to fly huge airliner size circuits because that's the flight school culture."

Photo: Matt Wall Helen, my oldest daughter, with her afternoon's catch of Rainbow Trout on the dock at Eutsuk Lake, taking shelter from the rain under the wing.

The Family Flying Machine

As I worked toward my pilot's license I also began my search for a suitable plane. One thing I learned as I got further into the world of flying is that 4 seats does not mean a plane can carry 4 people. Adding floats into the equation further increases this disparity. The planes I'd been looking at as I was coming up with my plan were all too small in reality, meaning the plane I needed was going to cost more than I'd planned.

Photo: Matt Wall At the dock on Harrisons Lake's Long Island campgound. We did a day trip here during some unseasonably warm weather. Beautiful docks but watch out for the pilings.

Basically I needed to be able to haul 2 adults and 3 kids, gear, and enough fuel for a good adventure. I needed to be able to take off from smallish alpine lakes and climb over B.C.'s steep mountains. I needed decent cruise speeds to cover some distance. I looked at all the usual suspects: Cessna 170, Super Stinson, Aeronca Sedan, Maule, Wilga, etc. I took a hard look at a Helio Courier and while it checked all the boxes, even the local Helio guy said not to buy a Helio, citing lack of parts and his impending retirement.

All of these are great planes and would check all but one of my boxes; I'd dropped the five seat requirement pretty early in the search. Living closer to where I wanted to fly would have made things a lot easier for picking a plane, but then again I probably wouldn't have been looking for an airplane at all in that scenario. Ultimately this search brought me to a half share in a 1959 Cessna 180B. She had a fresh engine, WingX and Sportsman STOL mods, EDO 2960 floats, and was based just down the river from my farm. It was a perfect match and the 180 is undoubtedly one of the best all-around float planes out there.

Photo: Matt Wall My wife Kori and youngest daughter Evelyn in the crystal clear and frigidly cold water of Lake Lovely Water.

Flying High and the Bitter Taste of Defeat

Feb 14 is a significant day in my life. It's not just the anniversary of the accidental bombing of Prague, it's also the anniversary of getting my pilot's license. I did my very worst flying during the flight test but it was good enough for a pass. I'm not sure what the lesson is there but I've never again flown as poorly as I did that day.

I phoned over to a float instructor as I drove home and made arrangements to begin training in my 180. I have to say that those float lessons were the point where everything came together for me. It was the right plane, right instructor, and the relaxed feeling of being in your own aircraft and not running the clock on a rental; it had me flying my best. I got the float rating, did some additional training with my great instructor John, and then started venturing out into the world on solo flights of exploration.

Photo: Matt Wall My daughters at Rainbow Falls on Harrison Lake

In a few weeks I started taking the kids; the plans I'd made were coming to fruition. Everything was great except that the kids found it extremely boring. After one particularly memorable flight my wife asked them what their favourite part was: "When Uncle Scott bought us cookies and juice at the café after" was their reply. I was crushed. I'd poured a lot of time and effort into this plan. Was this not going to be the family fun I had dreamed of?

Self-Improvement Montage Set to "Eye of the Tiger"

It was time to get serious about making this a fun family activity. I needed to take what I'd learned in my early flights with kids and improve on things. For starters getting there is not half the fun for kids, there has to be an interesting destination to fly to and things to do at that destination.I learned quickly to pre-scout my trips, checking not just for safety considerations and dock/beach availability, but also what a spot has to offer the family for a day of fun.

Photo: Matt Wall Helen fishing on Nimpo Lake as Tweedsmuir's Beaver flys past.

Another important point is that everyone wants to be able to see out the windows. My 180 had a rear sling seat which, besides being uncomfortable, sits very low. I found a nice cushion to throw on top of it eventually but we also used booster seats at times. I learned to bring snacks and drinks. I learned to make sure everyone has sunglasses. I figured out not to take the family flying in poor weather—nothing ruins the fun like getting kicked around in the plane or sitting with a bunch of kids waiting on the rain.

I carry relevant gear to take care of us each flight and I know how to use it. Not just survival gear, but gear to make sure an unscheduled stop won't be a hardship. A lot of this gets into the area of safety and risk management too—there are inherent risks but I take steps to minimize them. A big part of this I feel is the pre-scouting. I rarely take the kids anywhere I haven't been prior. I take a look at the whole route, locate the alternate landing sites, figure out how much altitude I need, determine prevailing winds and what they're doing in these valleys, and as said earlier, I look at the destination for how I'm going to land and take off and where I'm going to park.

Photo: Matt Wall Heading home after a long day of recreation. All 3 kids enjoying the greater space of the family 185. Evelyn has fallen asleep like she usually does.

We Try Again

I brought this strategy all together and tried some more trips. The first glowing success was a trip to Alouette Lake. You can actually get where we went by boat and it was only a short flight in the plane, but there was a nice sandy beach and the kids had a blast on that unusually hot day in May. We came home with a plane load of happy and tired children.

Another early trip had us on Salt Spring Island where we parked at my airplane partner's beach, borrowed his jeep, visited the hippie flea market and had a nice lunch. This success led to bigger trips, like taking my oldest daughter and father to a fish camp on Eutsuk Lake that I'd found on a previous hunting trip. That was followed by a trip back to Nimpo Lake where we'd previously spent a night on our way home from the Eutsuk trip.

Photo: Matt Wall My dad and daughter Helen enjoying a quick lunch at Turner Lake above Hunlen Falls. This spot has become a favourite place to drop in during our trips North.

Once these trips began to enjoy such success, the need for a larger plane became apparent. Nobody wanted to be left out of a plane trip anymore. The 180 was traded in for a sweet 185 with a proper little third row seat. We've taken this plane out to the Gulf Islands a couple times and up to my uncle and aunt's cabin in the Chilcotin.

Some of my very favorite trips have been to the little alpine lakes that excited me when I first had the idea to fly floats. It'll be a hot day on the farm, all the usual spots with road access are overrun with people. We'll pack a cooler and jump in the plane and go to one of a half dozen different lakes where we can have the whole place to ourselves.

Photo: Matt Wall Evelyn braving the cold waters of Widgeon Lake during an early August day trip.

There's nothing like doing a low pass over a beautiful and secluded lake, making a descending 180 degree turn to a nice landing, and unloading everyone onto a private beach without another soul around for miles. The kids swim and play in the sand. The water is so clean you can drink from the lake. My wife relaxes in the sun. Everybody has a great day and we fly home just before dusk. My kids tell of their adventures at school and the teacher takes me aside at parent/teacher night to check that they aren't telling her tall tales. Life is good.

Photo: Matt Wall The 185 parked at the dock at Rainbow Falls on a late fall evening.

What Next?

As I write this, it's winter in B.C. and I'm sitting at the wood stove polishing my father-of-the-year award. But I wonder: how to keep things interesting? How to continue that feeling of firsts and newness?

I have a few ideas. My oldest two kids want to head up into the Muskwa for some elk hunting. We'd have gone this fall except for the wildfire smoke during our availability window. I found a couple air-access-only lakes full of monster trout only 35 minutes from my house, so I acquired a folding boat and a 2 HP outboard that fits in the float compartment. I've been poking around for some skis so maybe we can extend the fun through the winter. Whatever we do, there's no shortage of adventures to be had.

More than anything, I can't shake the feeling of having successully accomplished the pilot/father's dream.

Photo: Matt Wall The 185 full of kids coming in to the dock at my aunt and uncle's house on beautiful Gun Lake.