I live precisely where I want to live because I do have a choice. I have options to spend time in other places with other worthwhile benefits but I always come "home" to Alaska. Where else can I work in the city, come home from work, grab the wife, kid, and dog, pick up some KFC, and go king salmon fishing for the evening. And back home easily by 10:00. That doesn't suck.

Here's a pretty cool way to get the dog some fresh air. I don't mind it at all.

One of the things I would recommend is find out on the local taxes. I live in the state of Alaska and retired 9 years ago. We do not have the tax that a lot of areas have so I live here pretty cheep. Some places have income tax and when you move in them areas you pay income tax at that states rate. I know it get colds here for I lived here for 40 years. The flying is great , a lot to do and see. But long winters and short day light. But one is not going to fly every day any way.

Ken in Alaska

More good fun. Just took the dog for her morning 2 1/2 miler in the dark. Had two close moose encounters with two different pairs of critters. The dog is convinced they're big dogs there to entertain her. I'm a bit more cautious but I sure do enjoy the close proximity to wild animals. What a great way to start the day.

SB

stewartb wrote:More good fun. Just took the dog for her morning 2 1/2 miler in the dark. Had two close moose encounters with two different pairs of critters. The dog is convinced they're big dogs there to entertain her. I'm a bit more cautious but I sure do enjoy the close proximity to wild animals. What a great way to start the day.

SB

In Fairbanks, I lived in a split level house. You walk in the front door and either walk 4 steps up to the main level or down 5 steps to the daylight basement. So anyway, the living room window is up off the ground a half story you know? I'll never forget waking up one morning and opening the blinds in the living room to take a look at the weather. There was a bull moose staring at me with his nose about 6" from the glass. I started praying that nothing would startle him and make him turn his horns to take out the window. I love Alaska. I'd be there now, but my wife won't go back.

I like Idaho, you only have to go down 36" at most for your footings when building! I remember my first trip to Fairbanks (where my brother has lived for 30 years), he showed me a bunch of places that were built by newcomers without full knowledge of how deep the frost goes, bringing new meaning to the term "split level". Then we looked at a commercial building going in, what they have to do for proper foundations up there is unreal, just saying.... that's something you don't hear a lot about in the tourist brochures, you guys living up there know what I mean. Quite a shock for the newcomers!

I spent 30 days up at my brothers place a few years back, putting a second story on their house. As I was bracing the walls prior to setting trusses, plumbing the corners and dry lining the rest, my brother (not a builder) mentioned "that's close enough, I got to level the place up in a few weeks anyway". That's when he showed me the "foundation", timbers on gravel, with jack screws, like we do (used to do anyway) mobile homes down here, so, I had just built this second story addition on a out of whack lower level. NO PROBLEM, I was assured, close enough for Fairbanks (McGrath Road). It really makes you appreciate a conventional lower 48 concrete foundation, just saying.

Building here in Alaska has come a long way. We still have the do it your self kind of guys that no nothing on building or what to look for when it comes to building in a cold climate. I have done a lot of home inspections for people, prior to buying. One just has to know what to look for and what to look for in any case.

Ken

Foundation engineering for northern climates is a broad topic. There's more to it that digging 4' down for footings. Building codes react to historical failures. Architects and engineers look for new solutions. Regional challenges are well known.

The foundation struggles I'm hearing about most are from friends in Texas. Some guys I know with slab on grade are having problems with the ground shrinkage and subsequent movement caused by the drought. And now with winter rains the ground is moving again. Double whammy and local construction wasn't ready for it. I had a water line break last week from ground movement. It's pretty common from what I'm hearing. But I sure do like Texas.

I know this was last posted in 8 years ago, but I think it's a thread worth keeping alive.

I work overseas 4 months on/off, so I faced this exact choice a year or so ago.

My wife and I are both Iowans, and were living in central Iowa. Turns out Iowa has become a high tax state, with very few benefits in return, so we chose Tennessee, land of no income and low property taxes.

A lot more interesting terrain and flying opportunities. Beautiful country with a very nice climate. Cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter than Iowa.

SAVB was a lot of fun to base out of for a week. Cheap living, friendly, reminded me a lot of Alaska.

SAVB?????

This is a great thread to keep going. I faced this question about 10 years ago as I approached that age where I wanted to be somewhere that was not solely driven by my employment. I chose the Bitterroot Valley in Montana. I moved here knowing nobody about 9 years ago. It has been nothing short of fantastic. Mild winters, great flying community and incredible and nearly direct access to the Frank Church and Sellway Wilderness areas w/ all the associated airstrips! No regrets!

DBI wrote:This is a great thread to keep going. I faced this question about 10 years ago as I approached that age where I wanted to be somewhere that was not solely driven by my employment. I chose the Bitterroot Valley in Montana. I moved here knowing nobody about 9 years ago. It has been nothing short of fantastic. Mild winters, great flying community and incredible and nearly direct access to the Frank Church and Sellway Wilderness areas w/ all the associated airstrips! No regrets!

I'm really glad you found a great place to live! It is definitely beautiful country up there!

But I suspect that your definition of "mild winters" and mine (Texas-based) might not be closely aligned... I was in SE Montana in February a while back, and got up to watch the morning weather (flying home in my "new" airplane). The weatherman started off his forecast by saying "Good news, people! The temperature is going to warm up to -20ºF by noon today!" Driving to the airport that morning, I noticed even the snowflakes had frozen their fingers off! (Ice pellets instead of true snowflakes.)

I know, I know... 42 years of living in Texas had turned me into a cold-weather wimp!

Following with interest. You guys that have moved to a semi-rural location - what do you with your airplane? You wind up building a hangar at the nearest municipal airstrip?

DBI wrote:This is a great thread to keep going. I faced this question about 10 years ago as I approached that age where I wanted to be somewhere that was not solely driven by my employment. I chose the Bitterroot Valley in Montana. I moved here knowing nobody about 9 years ago. It has been nothing short of fantastic. Mild winters, great flying community and incredible and nearly direct access to the Frank Church and Sellway Wilderness areas w/ all the associated airstrips! No regrets!

I really appreciate this - these are the same things my wife and I have been talking about for our post-career home.

Can't beat N CA. I can take off at the beach wearing shorts and flips flops and a little more than an hour later land on a freshly plowed runway that's below freezing at 7000'.

The scenery within an hour flight is so diverse. I could post pictures but I don't want to bore you guys.

In a van, down by the River!!

lesuther wrote:SAVB was a lot of fun to base out of for a week. Cheap living, friendly, reminded me a lot of Alaska.

Funny you should refer to SAVB (El Bolson, Patagonia, Argentina) and Alaska in the same post.
I spend most of my time "close by" in San Martin de los Andes from where we passed SAVB many times flying in a glider low on the ridge(s) or high up in mountain wave.
In the soaring community (at least among those who fly in Argentina) that area is called "Little Alaska" !

And the lifestyle there is very hippiesque...

My vote is for the Pacific Northwest. The Northwest offers a great variety of choices (Coastal airports, Cascades, San Juan Islands, and great airports in the I-5 corridor). There are great gravel bars along multiple rivers and Idaho/Montana are within a single tank of gas for most planes. There are tons of privately owned strips both marked and unmarked throughout Oregon and Washington - most with friendly owners. I think the weather is mild. I am not a big fan of cold weather and although we get some wet weather in the winter - there is year round flying and no need for pre-heating - at least not here in Portland.



Josh

Wrote the following for a similar tread on the SC.org site the other day:

Interesting reading about pilot dream locations. When asked by other pilots or flying friends what I'm doing my reply is always, living the dream!

Can't tell you though, how many pilots I've seen waiting and waiting and waiting, like for an exit visa in Casa Blanca. I think it's vital one doesn't wait for a dream but makes the dream a part of your life. Would suck to build your dream only to find out you only have strength left to roll out of your hanger an aluminum lawn chair.

Seems I fell into my Alaskan dream by chance, a short ad in the Seattle paper laying on the Tramco/BFG lunch table with Orin Syberts number. Pen Air, King Salmon, whitesox and mosquitos, fishermen, hunters, park tourist, fabric and tin pipers, 100 through 200 spam cans, Beavers and Otters, living the dream.

There was a gentleman out here with a couple birds, an early twin Piper and a Tripacer. He was hit by a drunk driver in Anchorage and with the resultant medical complications was unable to fly. One day he walks up to me on a pair of sticks, I don't recognize him at all, and with a strong lisp says to me, I hear you want to buy an airplane. We haggle for a while and shake on a reasonable deal. The next day he finds me, hands over a signed bill of sale and form 8050 for his '61 PA22-160, then says to me, I don't want it in my name if you take out a row of planes learning to fly off the Naknek strip. My first payment, PAF style, wasn't due for another six months, my first airplane on a handshake and my honor, living the dream!

Let's see, I'm working on my first Beaver at the KSL dock pulling the front plugs for a hundred hour, my partner says to me, now don't drop any of them damit, WHAT THE F WAS THAT, he yells. Dropped my first DHC-II floatplane plug into the fast moving Naknek River, living the dream.

The next summer I'm still riding around on my Big Red with a toolbox on the back shaking the A&P money tree at each dock on every Naknek River air taxi and guide outfit. I'm helping wrap up another Hundred hour and the DO asked if I want to be his DOM, three Beavers and two 206, I told him I didn't think I had enough experience, and he said not to worry, that he would teach me, living the dream.

Edo 2000 and a 82 Borer, living the dream.
Airglass 2000, three of them per STC, really no kidding, living the dream.
A freshly overhauled engine from MFE, Ok not so dreamy on the pocketbook.

Now for that hanger, the sign had been up for years, it had been a good summer, less lucky for a couple operators but I did get them flying, so I had the grubstake. The hanger owner had been a guide and bandit for many years, was a Maul man till he got tired of wrecking them and went back to the SuperCub. Has the number one Boon & Crocket Wally set in his living room but don't think I ever got an honest answer about how he got it. We talked her over here and there, seems he had accepted someone's offer but it wasn't working out, knowing all parties I suggested I would politely wait it out and if my turn came about we could move forward: a hand shake and five fat payments in the fall; PAF!
Oldest wooden structure on the runway fifty feet from the north south runway centerline of 5NK and a nice sand bottom beach behind the hanger with a good 2,500 float pond with banks on the south and north sides to protect from the worst winds.
I had to wait another year, patiently waiting for the dream.

The nightmare... Thirty days after closing on the deal my new dream burns to the ground. All I have left are my old dodge 250, the clothes on my back, and the Batplane.

Took me a while to recover although I never got any farther then the permit for a new hanger, the old mechanic next door gave me a box with a misfit collection of the tools needed to keep making money but I took another eight or so years before I had all my tools and equipment replaced. Many others helped me out, my DO let me move into his house in Atown that winter to work on his birds at his Hood hanger, too many others to list. I recall being asked what I needed but felt I had my health, a touch of good luck for being alive, and my life to look forward to, living the dream.

One year the weather was actually good enough to safely fly from the Bristol Bay to Valdez in my 182B, landis nose fork, 10x10 bushweels, and a well worn pair of 8:50x10s off a Beaver, the weather was so nice we flew to Talkeetna the next week. It was still brown and gray in the Bay but here Everything was green. You know where I'm going with this. The following winter I was working at my DO's hanger at lake Hood and I can't get home do to the weather, it's perfect up north so I call the Roadhouse for a room and buzz on up. Meet Dave at Sheldon's and he lets me plug in my engine heater and cause I can't get home I stay the week exploring The Mountain and points north. X mass Eve potluck at the Roadhouse and I meet the Lady, living the dream.

I was in the Bristal Bay for over twenty years, fish, Caraboo, moose bear ducks wheels floats skis snow ice rivers lakes. I always told that there was a lifetime of flying out west. The Katmie, The Tickchicks, Lake Clark to the north, Anaichak to the south, pacific side for gooyducts, brooks lodge for evening dessert, the mulchactna for boo, the fatest rainbows up the Kvechak, the big moose of the Muklong, stunning Arctic Charr in the fall and pike almost five feet long if you are lucky enough to be shown where, oh ya, grovsner and Kulic, lakes with no name I would land on in the late evening just to pick enough berries for ice cream later or leave forever my best pair of seringitties, ops checking the winter survival kit in real time after getting fogged out courting that girl in Ugashik thinking a small bottle of belly warmer will go in the tote for next time, the medavac in Levalock cause it was too windy for the 135 guys to fly or or picking up my buddy Serg, he had good eyes, to fly out to find that young lady who had become lost overnight in the snow, living the dream.

Have myself parked here across the street from the Talkeetn village strip, I can see the firewall of the Batplane through the trees now that the leaves are mostly gone. Engine is in my shop after finding a little cam lifter metal in the filter. Parked here cause I lost the moose lottery this spring, April 2nd to be exact, crushed my foot in a bunny boot, sixteen pieces of titanium, and damn lucky to be alive. Was under his belly dodging his front hooves like some badass in The Matrix until he decides to move onto my budy hiding just around the corner, you know, scared f'less of the dream.

Ah, a yellow cub drags it in nicely, must be RG back from moose camp.

Six monthes to the day, just started walking without sticks a few days ago, man it hurts with full weight, another year to walk normal they say. The Covid, the economy, political unrest, shit, I've was in two wrecks with idiot pilots before I bought mine, bent a few myself, won the power line lottery after a never diagnosed engine issue in my buddies 182E, been on my nose waiting for the bird to flip all the way over listening to fuel gurgle out before daring to unlatch my harness, found myself on the wrong side of the landing lights once laughing my ass off one hundred and eighty degrees out of sync with my feet, been stuck on top of the fog out of gas only rolling about forty feet off into the tundra at the PPT strip, hyperventilating in the pass during a whiteout flying from tree to rock to tree only to bust out into severe blue at summit lake, oh ya that time I was coming back from a blown out pacific side adventure and had to pee, saw this bear at the back side of grosvenor neck deep and thought it would be cool to land going by him but forgetting that the back four miles of the lake were only a few inches deep, it was late fall and I was the only one still on floats for hundreds of miles around, boy I couldn't wait to take that piss, cause you know, that's how we are, living the dream...


ADDENDUM:
And you know that guy I mentioned above, whacked by a drunk driver and told he would never walk much less fly, he has his medical back, flys a 336 of all things, but you've already guessed it, he is not planing the dream, he is living the dream.

Rocket