Another trip north

Rescued from the couch!

A good friend with a demanding summer charter job flying a Cessna 185 on floats in Sitka, AK recently purchased a Maule M5. He's just too busy to break away and chance weather or mechanical delays to safely fly his newly-acquired plane up North, so a text message, a couple of emails, and a phone call later— the trip is on! I'm no stranger to the venerable Maule: with over 400 hours time in make and model, his insurance carrier was happy to add me to his policy, and I was happy to once again be at the controls of one of these great birds from Moultrie, Georgia.

Finding time to get away from my own commitments, getting a decent multi-day weather forecast and, most importantly, getting permission from my wife, were my big challenges. Fortunately, everything worked out. Always grateful to have good company and "assistance" on these flights, I was able to invite a life-long friend to accompany me and share the experience. As part of the "deal," my friend Mike later learned he also had to manage ForeFlight and related tasks, such as adding oil, hauling the fuel line out from self-service pumps, cleaning the windscreen... well, you get the idea. If this story sounds familiar, it's because it's not my first dance with flying north, and not the first I've written up for Backcountry Pilot. In fact, my last trip flying from the Lower 48 to Alaska was late last year in my SQ-2.

Selecting a route that's both interesting and safe

Though this has been covered many times in umpteen website forums, the question "which way is best" continues to come up.

On previous trips, I've flown many variations of the route:

1) The coast, where the trick is to do the coast at low tide so you have emergency landing options.

2) Following roads on the Smithers/Bob Quinn Lake/Iskut/Stikine river valleys to the coast.

3) The Trench.

4) The ubiquitous Alaska-Canada Highway.

The first three options are certainly the most scenic, but they absolutely require better than decent weather to make the jaunt in a reasonable time frame, and to be able to enjoy the over-the-top world-class scenery along the way. We planned a first stop at a friend's private strip about 45 miles northwest of Calgary, at that point we would decide on the actual route.

Where and how to cross the border is another topic covered ad nauseum. Though I've done the border crossing many times I learned a new trick on this trip (yes, you can teach an old dog new tricks!) Keep reading...

Eckhart international border crossing

A friend recommended landing at Porthill, WA (1S1) AKA "Eckhart International." What's interesting is that you land in the U.S. and taxi across the border. So I of course filed my eApis and called CANPASS giving them the required 2 hour notice. I then filed the required flight plan through ForeFlight and planned to pick up the also required discrete border crossing transponder code once in flight (Flight Service usually won't give you such over the phone prior to departure).

But here's where it gets interesting: About half an hour after filing my flight plan, and well before taking off, I received a call from Lockheed Flight Service. The gentleman explained that their system doesn't accept on-line flight plans if filed in the ICAO format, only those filed in "regular" format. He then told me since I was landing in the U.S. and planned to taxi across the border that I either 1) didn't need to file a flight plan or, 2) in flight, squawk a border crossing transponder code. This seemed a bit dubious— to be safe I requested his name and contact phone number. All went well at the border, though. Land, taxi across a road, down a path and park in the meadow, all with "progressive taxi" signs to help to guide you along. We walked to the customs building on the road, reported in and soon we were on our way again.

Note: Porthill is a grass strip. There is a paved strip at Creston just a couple of miles further North. It would be EASY to mistake Creston for Porthill— I mentioned this to the Canadian customs agent. She said: "Yep, other folks have occasionally done that. We fine them when they do so!"

Lake Louise, BC

We took advantage of the beautiful weather, flying along the highway from Cranbrook, past Invermere then through the mountains along Highway 1 near Lake Louise and Banff; incredible scenery and breathtaking mountain views. Note: On this day the upper winds were light— generally less than 10 knots. I've done this section with mountain winds exceeding 25 knots— NOT recommended! We talked to a local charter pilot in a Caravan coming the other direction— he said it was one of the best days he had seen over the mountains all summer!

The next morning we looked at weather for all points North— studying the coast to the Alaskan highway. The coast was forecast as 60% chance of showers. On a previous trip or two I've forged my way through various mountain passes across the Continental Divide and out to the coast in dubious weather. With a plane that was relatively new to me I didn't think such was prudent, hence we elected to (mostly) follow the Alaska highway.

Gravel bars, the occasional private airstrip, and meadows— good emergency options.

Headed northwest out of the Calgary area the terrain is largely flat; initially some farms, then later extensive forest with occasional oil and gas wells interspersed in heavily-wooded areas accessed by endless dirt roads. We forged largely direct tracks, keeping the serpentine Alaska highway within a reasonable distance, on toward Rocky Mountain House (fuel), Fort Saint John (fuel), thence Watson Lake (fuel) with a goal of reaching Carcross for our evening stop. Generally there were remote dirt roads, a couple of uncharted grass strips, gravel bars, and logging areas to set down should an emergency crop up.

Once within a 100 miles or so of Watson Lake the great scenery is raised yet another notch: Tall mountains, amazingly remote valleys shaped into the classic "U" glacial profile and the Liard River geography captivated us.

Mountains along the Alaska Highway south of Muncho Lake

Watson Lake, as with many places along the Alaskan highway, is a stop on the original World War II route to Russia. The historical pictures in the terminal as well as seeing the original WW2 hangar make it a historical fuel stop. For those interested, the entire trip involved approximately $1,150 in fuel costs and close to 21.7 flying hours.

Self-serve fuel at Watson Lake

Watson Lake is an interesting stop but one doesn't want to be stuck there— town is 13 kilometers from the airport. There are no courtesy cars. Impending weather told us that we'd better skedaddle or risk a lonely bivy at the airport.

Trees already beginning to turn in mid-August

We followed the highway on this leg towards Carcross, sometimes down to just a few hundred feet with marginal visibility. Remember, "marginal VFR" has a different meaning in the Yukon than in the Midwest, but thankfully as we neared closer to Carcross the weather markedly improved. Camping at the airstrip that night, after an awesome dinner at the local bistro, was incredibly scenic: The evening sky clearing, with the low angle yellow light spilling onto the nearby hills, put the intrepid Maule in a beautiful frame. A note to would-be transient pilots: hosts Ed and Dorothy live right on the airport and are very gracious to all visitors!

Camping at Carcross, Yukon Territory

Approaching Skagway and U.S. Customs

Alaska Customs— another interesting experience! The same routine normally applies crossing into Alaska— file your eApis, call U.S. Customs (at chosen point of entry, Skagway in this case), give 2 hours notice, file a flight plan. For the Alaska crossing one does not need a transponder code.

It was Sunday morning; I phoned Skagway customs where the officer's first comment was: "What is the rush?" I was a bit taken aback. The officer then proceeded to tell me I need to give them 24 hours notice on the weekends. What!? He put me on hold to check with his supervisor. I was thinking we're stuck here for a whole day. Returning to the phone he said, "No, you just need 1 hour notice."

Whew! Then he said, "Just call me when you get in your plane and I'll meet you at the airport." He emphasized: "Remember, do not exit your aircraft upon arrival until I clear you to do so." I've heard the "don't exit" remark previously, but he was adamant!

Bennett Lake, Yukon Territory

Upon arrival at Skagway the Customs officer was waiting. He was very nice, even going so far as to thank me for "...doing everything correctly for the border crossing." There was another local plane parked nearby with similar colors. The Customs officer said when he first drove up he saw that plane with the folks walking around it. Thinking it was us he mentioned that he was ready to hand them a $5,000 fine!

The view between Skagway and Haines, Alaska

After breakfast in Skagway where I indulged in the menu from "Glacial Smoothies and Expresso" (highly recommended) we headed to Haines for fuel. With absolutely perfect weather (awesome) we elected to tour Glacier Bay National Park.

The Grand Pacific Glacier, which originates in Glacier Bay National Park

A prime objective was also to fly around Mt Fairweather, the tallest peak in Glacier Bay National Park, as my friend Mike and I have plans to climb it next year. With the summit at 15,325' and it being only a few miles from the Pacific Ocean, referring to the mountain as "Fairweather" (named in 1778 by Capt James Cook) is a misnomer—rarely does its top, let alone the entire mountain, show itself.

Summit of Mt. Fairweather

After an absolutely stunning flight— from a perspective that few ever experience— we elected to land at Dry Bay. Dry Bay is a fish processing camp and take-out for folks engaged in the multi-day Alsek River rafting trips.

The Dry Bay gravel airstrip

A short hike and we were ready to return over Glacier Bay to Haines for fuel. The flight again blessed us with breathtaking, once-in-a-lifetime views.

Cruise ship vs airplane: Different perspective on Glacier Bay National Park

Refueled once more at Haines, it was time to head to Sitka to deliver the Maule to its new owner. Some water crossings along the Lynn Canal (Factoid: Deepest fjord in North America) and across several straits brought us on a rare beautiful day to wonderful Sitka!

Final approach, runway 29, Sitka

As mentioned earlier, the new owner's full-time job is flying a Cessna 185 on floats for Harris Aircraft Services, based in Sitka. George was an incredibly gracious host, taking us out to dinner at all of the outstanding seafood restaurants, and even generously extending the offer to fly his Maule anytime we wanted during the remainder of our stay!

George in his 185, approaching Four Falls Lake, Baranof Island

The next day we found ourselves again in the Maule following George in his C-185 across Baranof Island. While George was dropping off a customer, he told us where to find whales in Frederick Sound.

Whale breaching, Frederick Sound

Big Sky Brewing Co, Missoula, MT

What a treat! We must have seen 40+ whales from an incredibly unique perspective! Words cannot express our genuine amazement, wonder, and awe at seeing nature in this manner. Thank you, George!

Occupying the remainder of our time at Sitka were a number of hikes, visiting the Totem pole park (highly recommended) and of course, consuming "native" beverages!

All too soon we were on a Delta flight returning home. It's another story, but Delta kindly left my bag with our frozen salmon on the ramp at Sitka! Nonetheless, we had an absolutely GREAT trip! Again, a blessed opportunity to ferry a Maule for a good friend—Thank you, George!