EXERCISE WHOOPER FINN: FIELD REPORT NO.11

The staff here were first class, and this was the first place we had been that Brian Milton called at last year on his round the world trip. We camped overnight, and were forced to stay another day by adverse weather to our West, and the need for clean laundry. There was an opportunity to sightsee in the town of Watson Lake. This is the home of the 'Forest of Signs' and there is an interpretive centre on the Northern Lights here, as well as a very good visitor centre, which explains the origins and construction of the Alaska Highway, but the sightseeing was completed in about an hour. By the way, the highway was built by the Americans during the Second World War, in an attempt to counter any Japanese invasion of American territory in the Northwest Pacific. The road was built in record time across incredibly difficult terrain in the most adverse of conditions, and it served to open up Alaska to the outside world. The most amazing thing about the whole project to my mind was that after the war, the Americans sold the Canadian part of the road to the Canadian government. Not only at an exorbitant rate, but the Canadians had to maintain it! In fact the road has been rebuilt since then at astronomical cost, and the work is still ongoing.

There must be something about Monday mornings, but in the first flight the next morning we made our first and only navigational error of the trip. We both independently programmed the two GPS' with the wrong waypoint. This might not have been a problem in other places, but in this first leg we were flying across featureless forest for an hour and a quarter to intersect the road in a river valley. Somehow our waypoint took us down one of the many parallel river valleys. It was obvious that this was the wrong valley when the road wasn't there! What was worse was that the large lake below us wasn't on the map. After about 5 minutes circling it was clear we were uncertain of our exact position. This appeared a lot worse as there was no sign of human activity, just an unbroken carpet of trees to the horizon and definitely no place to land. The best course of action was to backtrack to Watson Lake before fuel became critical. The mountains are around 6,500 feet at this point, so a climb to 7,500 above large tracts of snow gave a better view of what was going on. It turned out that we were 10 miles North of where we should have been, and a quick correction took us into the right valley. The lake turned out to be tucked under a fold in the map - it would be! Our destination was Rancheria, a gas station and café at the roadside, so this called for a landing on the highway. Approach checks include traffic (both ways!) on the road, as well as roadside signs and any hidden aerial cables or poles. Landing was straightforward and a direct taxi to the pumps was called for. After our early morning adventures breakfast really tasted good!

From Rancheria it was an uneventful flight to Squanga Lake, a refuel stop with the groundcrew and on to Whitehorse in the increasing morning turbulence. Whitehorse is a very attractive town, situated on the Western side of a wide valley surrounded by tree-covered mountains. The airport is built on a valley ledge about 300 feet directly above the town and is hidden by the topography from street level. This can produce some very interesting approaches with windshear right down to the runway in the worst cases. It is a busy place, with lots of general aviation stopping off en route to Alaska and a regular turnover of 737 traffic to Vancouver and points South. There is a weekly charter flight from Germany during the summer as the Germans like the unspoilt wilderness they find in the Yukon.

There was a stiff breeze blowing by the time we tied down the aircraft and wandered across to flight services. We were advised to try overnight hangarage with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Air Service. Better news followed when we discovered they had shower facilities and after we met Sergeant Rick Alberson we were extended the use of their entire complex. Rick is the senior pilot with the Whitehorse Air Service and flies the Twin Otter on a wide range of support operations ranging from search and rescue to air ambulance, passenger flights, collecting felons, to hauling freight. By coincidence a call came in requesting an air search of the shoreline of Laberge Lake, 30 miles North of Whitehorse, where a possible bear victim had been reported. The entire Whooper Finn team volunteered to assist, and the RCMP were happy for the use of the extra eyes. Rick piloted the aircraft and demonstrated why the Twin Otter is such a versatile aeroplane. We conducted a number of passes along the shoreline at 200 feet. Even the Otter was thrown around in the afternoon turbulence, and I was glad that we were not flying the ultralight. Fortunately we did not find a mauled body, and in the true tradition of the Mountie always getting their man, we later found out that the missing man was a German tourist who had set out on a long hike only to abandon his kit and equipment along the shoreline. He had safely returned to Germany blissfully unaware of the events his actions would cause when his pack was discovered having been chewed by a bear.

An early flight was called for next morning en route to Alaska. First landing was Silver City (no sign of either) on the shores of Klune lake as the local gas station on the highway was closed. We were able to 'borrow' some fuel from the Silver City Arctic Research Station and that helped ensure our safe arrival at Burwash Landing.
The landscape around Burwash Landing resembled the aftermath of a nuclear war as a dump fire had burnt out of control setting fire to the surrounding forest for about 10 square miles. A number of local homes were lost in the inferno. Helicopters were still ferrying fire crews around to damp down sporadic ground fires as we flew past. We were well ahead of the groundcrew at this point and decided to pass up Gary's sandwiches in favour of lunch in the nearby Burwash Lodge. A number of locals commented on the relatively calm (10 knots) conditions that we were lucky to experience. We thought nothing of it, and the true significance of these comments came back to haunt us much later. The groundcrew caught up just as we finished lunch, and we waited until they were fed before returning to the aircraft. Light showers were falling in places as we headed towards Beaver Creek, our last port of call before Alaska. This was to be a tough flight with heavy rain in places and lowering cloud base in the valley, requiring altitude adjustment down to 500 feet at times above the valley floor. Occasional turbulence, caused by wind flowing across the mainstream from glacial valleys joining from left and right gave the whole flight an extra edge. It was with some relief that we reached Beaver Creek.

A flight plan was required for crossing the border, and we were ably assisted by the Flight Services lady who also offered to take us into the nearby settlement for fuel at the end of her shift (she was the only person in the whole place anyway). She told us to look out for the bear at the end of the runway - she maintained it was friendly, but this was something I was prepared to take her word on! Thankfully we did not have to put this to the test and took off in the late evening for Northway the point of entry for Alaska.