Thanksgiving weekend: Long ago.

We got two of the goats in the PA-12 (that is a Piper aircraft) and this is the off the charts part of this specific account, the two goats were in the plane, and I was ordered to climb in as best I could on top of the two Mt. Goats, and "Hold-on". I had wrongly assumed he would fly the goats out, and return to get me.

I could only get less than halfway into the PA-12 but held onto the top goat, and we flew back to Birchwood Airport, with my belly-button and lower parts hanging out of the door of the PA-12. I was face down in bloody goat with legs a butt sticking straight out the side of the plane, ice cold November air blowing up my pants legs. I would yell, "I am slipping", and he would reach around grab my belt and help hold me in.

It was a very cold and frightening flight.

I have hundreds of these accounts, from all over Alaska, in the last 55 years. Looking for someone skilled at recording them.

Yeah! Reminds me of 3 hunters 5 caribou and pilot in a 180 at 20 below and 18 inches of snow on the lake. Those were the fuckin' days.

My dad had a pilot step out of the floatplane to take a leak off the floats flying over mat valley. “Fly for a second would ya??”

Paul Claus told me he flew his cub with 7 full size adults in it once. And once flew with the engine off for over 5 hours, got bored and started it back up to head home.

The polar bear hunters and their cubs were the stories I always loved!

More please
That’s some awesome stories

This one is pretty mild compared to some of the stories out there but one winter coming into Anchorage from SW Prince William Sound, the flight service decided to send a 206 on Amphibs for the three of us, a dog, 250lbs of deer meat, and other assorted gear.

A big high was developing in the Anchorage bowl and the pilot made record time out. The return however dragged on rather alarmingly. Soon after takeoff, our ground speed started to match the distance to arrival - 100 miles out - 100 knots.

The closer we got to the mountains above Whittier, the slower we were going. Snow was screaming off the peaks below and we could see Anchorage for what seemed like three hours. We got down to 30 knots ground speed 30 miles out and the tanks were on fumes.


Obviously it wasn’t a fatal flight but f-all if I want to do that again.

It was 1981, my 18 year old self and 2 friends hired a bush flight out of King Salmon to fly out near the Naknek river and drop us off for a week of caribou hunting. We land and he throws us out and says see you in week.Shortly later we are setting up camp and notice our food duffle is no where to be found. Never made it from King Salmon.Luckily I had put 3 bags of frozen potatoes in with the cooking gear bag and had 2 pouches of freeze dried eggs in my back pack. We brought a shotgun so each day out one of us would carry the shotgun. There was no snow on the ground and the ptarmigan had turned white so we could see them from a distance and sneak up on them and kill a few. A local Inuit was out flying, looking for caribou and saw our camp and landed.We talked for a bit and told him our predicament,he gave us a bag of M&M peanuts told us there was some herd movement a few miles out and that he would check on us in couple days.On day 5, Thursday, we got into a herd of caribou and dropped 3 bulls.Packed our 1st trip of meat into camp that night, ate caribou ale carte, packed the rest of meat Friday and the bush plane came Saturday.Never saw the Inuit again and bush pilot, different guy, said he didn't know anything about the food bag.We were lean and cold and when we got back to King Salmon you never saw 3 young men hit a restaurant and eat and enjoy more in your entire life.Learned the hard way to inventory before taking off and upon landing.
Scott

Two Polish nationals hired a bush pilot to fly them to a remote area on a moose hunt. The pilot was to return in 10 days which he did. The two hunters both got trophy sized Moose. The pilot advised that he would need to make an addition trip which would cost them another $1500 since his plane was not rated to carry that much. The hunters started complaining to the pilot that they shot 2 similar moose last year and the pilot had the same plane and felt the pilot was trying to screw them After a while the pilot agreed to give her hell. On take off the plane failed to get sufficient altitude to clear the trees and crashed. The pilot was up set on what happened and the hunters told him that the last pilot actually flew a little longer before he to crashed

this thread made my day

I went flying today and luckily I have no new story to add to this thread.

"There is nothing as quiet as it is when the engine quits" Quote by and unknown!

quote:

Originally posted by Jim Kobe:
"There is nothing as quiet as it is when the engine quits" Quote by and unknown!

Well I guess it turned out OK as he is being quoted!

Hip

I’ve had a few scary flights in Alaska and British Columbia. The scariest in Alaska was in late September of 1980. I was hunting sheep & grizzly with outfitter Lynn Castle, guided by Tom Kiersten. I killed a ram on the first day, but then spent the next 14 days looking for a suitable Bear. We finally killed a grizzly about halfway up the Yanert River valley, after which Tom & I had an all day ride the following day to McKinley Park station with a string of six horses. Tom had been injured fairly bad from a horse wreck that I avoided with my 3 horses, but he had damn near gotten his femur broke when a packhorse pulled back on its lead rope which was over his thigh instead of under. All 3 of his horses were scattered downslope and tangled in thick brush with pack boxes strewn down the slope. Tom could barely stand, let alone ride but we managed to get re-packed and to our destination.

We arrived and called Lynn to fly over from his lodge to pick us up. Lynn arrived in a 2-passenger Citabria. First they Loaded me in the back seat, with our packs and the grizzly hide jammed behind the backseat. Then saddles on my lap, then Tom on top of all that (he was crammed against the roof). Thank God that the gravel airstrip at McKinley Station is very long, we needed all of it.

As we flew across the mountains from the Yanert River to Wood River drainages, the plane was all over the sky due to strong winds and being overloaded rather badly. When we got near the gravel airstrip above Wood River Lodge, Lynn told us through the headsets that he was going to slip the plane toward the ground (left aileron & right rudder) and not to worry about the ground coming up fast as he’d level out above the trees and land. All of a sudden we were left wing down and the ground was coming up very fast. I was terrified and sure we were all gonna die. Just when I thought it was too late, Lynn leveled out very low and made a surprisingly smooth landing. As we taxied to our tie down spot, Lynn’s wife Samantha was waiting for us. As we opened the plane and climbed out, she took one look at me and said “You look like you saw a ghost”. I told her that I thought I was gonna be a ghost!

I flew with Lynn a few more times over the next 10 years, and a some of those flights were a bit ‘adventurous’. I forget the year, but it was July in the early 90’s when I got a call to advise me that Lynn had died the day before in a crash while flying supplies into a spike camp, getting ready for sheep season. I later learned that he had stalled in a steep low level turn in a box canyon and augered in. I was told he might have been able to recover from the stall if he didn’t have a bed mattress tied on one wing strut and sacks of horse feed tied on the other.

That was a tragic loss when Lynn augered in!!

I must say, "it does get very quiet when the engine quits!!"... When I was in college and visiting my wife to be in her home town, I would go out to the airport and get checked out in various planes...while she was working at the hospital... one instructor, who didn't know me, was checking me out in a Cessna Skylane...after some steep turns, stalls, etc., we headed back to enter the pattern, on 45, at 1000 ft, he pulled the mixture control!! Then he pulled up the nose to stop the constant speed prop..... blade right in front of us!! "Your Airplane!!"...VERY QUIET AND THE SWEAT STARTED POURING!!... short downwind to shorter Base, to final...aiming for about one-third down the runway... in with some flaps over the threshold...and a safe landing!! HOLY CRAP ... I was still shaken when he sent me out solo!!...

Scary flights are unfortunately a part of bush flying. But overall it is less adventurous than overland foot, dog team or boat travel. Read Alaska Yukon Trophies Won and Lost .

This thread reminds me, if I needed it, of why I want all of my pilots, from jets to puddle jumpers, to have gray hair!!!

quote:

Originally posted by 458Win:
Scary flights are unfortunately a part of bush flying. But overall it is less adventurous than overland foot, dog team or boat travel. Read Alaska Yukon Trophies Won and Lost .

I have that book.
Now THAT was quite a journey that didn’t end even after they returned home. I’ve always wondered what would happen in todays much softer world if somebody had to deal with what they did.

The old Alaskan axiom is an hours flying is equivalent to a week of walking .