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Flying in Alaska — The Last Frontier

Flew a 1956 Dehavilland Beaver out of southern AK for couple months many moons ago hanging with my flight school roommate . Great place. Great times.
That plane was a school bus on floats and handled like one
Salmon fishing in the bays and channels was excellent

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Awesome Experience with enthralling description! Although no where near the level, caliber & involvement of a Military CH-47D Air Ship Unit I did some time with a lrg F.D. Agency in Commiefornia as a Helitac Crew Member & really loved the time, experience & camaraderie of the fellowship that I got to work with. Being retired now, I occasionally still have dreams of those fun times drilling/trng, search & rescue ops, nite ops, swift wtr rescues, air ambulances, recon ops, hoist ops., Catalina Island ops. (hyperbaric chamber trng), dunker trng. etc. Reading your amazing experience/encounters brought back great memories of my past. Thank you Will "skinny" Dabbs for your compelling story, you were truly Blessed to live that chapter in your life!
 
Doc:

You are the best. I read everything you write even if the topic doesn't interest me. I was under the understanding that you had to be a Major to fly a Chinook.

God bless you and yours!
 
Great article. Loved your other one about the Chinook where you talked about spending the night in the aircraft and would argue with your crew mate over “who would get out of the fart sack and turn the heater”.
Best to you and thank you for your service!
 
I spent 26 years working as a PA at Prudhoe Bay. Spent a lot of time taking Medevacs from PB to Anchorage and Fairbanks. I sat down and figured out that I flew over Mt. McKinley about 3000 times and saw it in most of its moods. Almost cratered in a Lear 25 taking a guy with a flail chest into Anchorage during a storm with 125 kt crosswinds out of the SE. That was a wild ride. The time I was charged by a brown bear in my backyard at my home in Soldotna I was armed with a flashlight and that was a manifestly unfair fight. So, Dr. Will, I can relate to your stories. Now I live in NW Montana where the Griz are still around but the winters are at least two weeks shorter...
 
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KaniksuKidd said:
I spent 26 years working as a PA at Prudhoe Bay. Spent a lot of time taking Medevacs from PB to Anchorage and Fairbanks. I sat down and figured out that I flew over Mt. McKinley about 3000 times and saw it in most of its moods. Almost cratered in a Lear 25 taking a guy with a flail chest into Anchorage during a storm with 125 kt crosswinds out of the SE. That was a wild ride. The time I was charged by a brown bear in my backyard at my home in Soldotna I was armed with a flashlight and that was a manifestly unfair fight. So, Dr. Will, I can relate to your stories. Now I live in NW Montana where the Griz are still around but the winters are at least two weeks shorter...
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sounds like it was unfair - guessing you pummeled the Grizz with the flashlight then? ;)
 
Wonder what year the F-15C pilot recovery took place? I was with the 67 FS (Fighting Cocks) for a Cope Thunder exercise when we lost an F-15! The pilot successfully ejected! I can’t recall if it was 1994 or 95?

Found a reference: August 1995: F-15C, 78-0537, of the 67th FS, crashed in the Yukon–Charley Rivers National Preserve, Alaska. Pilot ejected and survived
 
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trader said:
sounds like it was unfair - guessing you pummeled the Grizz with the flashlight then? ;)
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Actually, when it’s dark and there’s a brown bear running across the lawn at you snapping its jaws and woofing the first thing I wanted was that 12 bore pump gun loaded with Brenneke slugs on that shelf above the garage man door. When I went through the door the bruin lost sight of me and did not pursue further. I really did not want to have to kill it and face the mountain of paperwork that would ensue. As a member of the oilfield emergency response teams I had been trained to haze critters with 12 gauge cracker shells which are like a mini flash bang with a range of about 25 yards. I had a box of 25 in the garage so I traded two of the slugs for two of the crackers and went out the back door of the garage. I heard some rustling in the brush on the edge of the hill we lived on and there were two of this year’s model cubs off to my left. There was that WOOF again on my right and the cubs promptly ran to Mama. Even though it was a touching moment I aimed the shotgun and the light and promptly shot Mama Bear in the butt. The cracker shell fell to the ground and exploded and I was rewarded with the sight of the north ends of three brown bears heading south down the hill. That was absolutely the biggest “Oh scheiss!” moment I ever experienced.
 
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