Alaska Bush Flying: A Passenger’s POV

Lee Hudson

I took a few flying lessons in my early twenties with the Civil Air Patrol at Elmendorf Air Force Base. It sobered me to the idea of flying in a place that presented a host of unforgiving variables if a guy wants to fly safely in Alaska. First, even recreational pilots must fly a lot to maintain skills. Even flying runway to runway, the traffic, radio operations, and navigating airspace in the middle of Ted Stevens International Airport, Lake Hood Seaplane Base, Merrill Field Airport, and Elmendorf is squirrelly. Second, one must consider bipolar weather that easily changes within an hour, along with other pilots competing for the popular spots, all with varying degrees of skill and capacity. A lot of moving pieces. I decided to entrust the flying to people with the money and aptitude to get around in a bush plane.

Over the Years

I flew with folks here and there; nothing extreme. My first taste of real bush flying happened in 2003. My friend, Paul Claus, convinced me to let him drop me off for a mountain goat hunt out of his lodge in the Wrangell St. Elias mountains (Ultima Thule Outfitters). We flew up the Hawkins glacier and hung a right into a high crosscut valley. The mountains didn’t look real. I grew up in the Rockies and had been to the Alaska Range several times. The Wrangells are a different animal. Massive towers of granite with sheer cliffs dropping thousands of feet. We flew over a goat perched on a knife’s edge far above the river… and I laughed out loud. He was quite safe from the likes of us.

Gaining altitude, Paul swung left and flew lengthwise up an impossibly steep ravine, aiming for a dime-looking cap of snow-covered ice wedged at the head of the valley. As the walls of crumbling rock closed in, I realized this was a one-way deal--commit or crash. Undaunted, he approached the small glacier and just…. put the Super Cub down on the ice and stopped within about 100 feet. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to be afraid.

“Welp…. We ain’t in Kansas anymore.” Unreal.

That first experience was like eating King Crab fresh out of the ocean in Kodiak. It spoiled me; eating flash-frozen crab in the restaurant became a total buzzkill. Flying with Paul was like that. It took a while to adjust my expectations after flying with that level of skill. Everyone after that seemed a bit "meh."

I flew with guys of varying degrees of skill, capacity, and decision-making wisdom. One dude scared me so bad I swore I would never do it again. I am sure one of my capped molars resulted from bouncing off an airstrip so hard I felt my spine collide with the back of my skull. It became clear that some pilots climb into an airplane and fly the plane. Others never really have a strong sense of what the plane is doing, and the plane is flying the pilot. Factor in the weather, it is a white-knuckled experience. Even non-pilots can tell when a pilot doesn't have his act together... doesn't take a genius; it is terrifying.

Current Day

I'm in my 50s now, and I have been around groups of skilled pilots who discuss story after story of guys who fly beyond their limits, make stupid decisions, damage their equipment, or kill themselves and/or their passengers. The real pilots never want this stuff to happen, and they talk about these incidents as a way to process their feelings about the dangers of bush flying. They also discuss the variables and thought processes that contributed to the incident, as a means of learning from it and reminding themselves of the fine line between skilled confidence and just being a grandiose idiot.

Given all that, it wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing to freak out when my son—Jared Hudson—now the owner and operator of Hudson Cub-Ventures, stood in my driveway at age 19 and asked me what he should do when a friend offered a junked-out, barely flying Super Cub to pursue his private pilot license. I didn’t hesitate. I had watched him run ATVs, snow machines, power tools, and play sports his whole life. Made total sense to me when I said, “I think you would be foolish not to try.”

Later, I walked by his room to see him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the night before his first flight. I asked him what he was thinking about.

“Dad, do you think I will be in the front seat right away?”

I said, “Yep, from the very first hour.”

Jared: Deep breath… nervous.

The next afternoon, he rumbled into the driveway in his old diesel truck.

“Well, how was it?” 

Without hesitation, he answered, “I don’t want to do anything else for the rest of my life.”

The next ten years went fast:

·       Private Pilot in 28 days

·       Commercial in 1 Year

·       Sportsmen’s Air Service: DeHavilland Beavers and Super Cubs on Floats

·       Trail Ridge Air: Cessna 206 on floats, PA-12 on floats, and Beavers on Floats

·       Complete rebuild of N1896A (restored1951 PA-18): 5 Years

·       Transport Pilot: Dillinger River Outfitters (PA-18 Super Cub and Cessna 180)

·       Part 135 Certification: 8 years

·       Establish Hudson Cub Ventures: 10 Years

·       Total Hours to Date: +4000

·       No incidents

·       No accidents

·       No B.S.

Anyone can brag about their kid. Make no mistake, I love flying with Jared the way I loved flying with Paul Claus. All the raw skill is there; it is just polished now. However, recall the paragraph about the pilots who fly in the bush without the wisdom and skill to pull it and wind up wrecking their planes or wrecking people. I will make this point: I have seen and heard enough to gain the wisdom not to endorse ANYONE getting in a plane with a pilot who doesn’t know what he is doing. I tell people often, “Know your pilot. This stuff can kill you quick.” Pilots must be safe, competent, and current on their skills.

Jared is all that. Please don’t take my word for it. I am unapologetically aware of my own bias. Call around Lake Hood. Talk to the Dillinger River Outfitter's guides and the owner, Aaron Derose, who relies on him to get them, their gear, and their clients out in the field and back safely. Talk to friends, students, and customers. Talk to pilots at other air services. They won’t overstate it… they will just tell you the truth. You are flying with someone you can trust.

Safe… Fun… and a totally awesome experience.

The Experience

I want people (you) to fly with Hudson Cub-Ventures for three reasons:

First, and I already made this case, you are flying with a pilot you can trust to show you a good time or teach you a thing or two about off-airport operations as a pilot.

Second, my wish for everyone is to see Alaska from the air. No experience rivals it. Flying over glaciers, rivers, mountains, and unspoiled wilderness completely free of roads, development, traffic, and noise. It overloads the senses… in a good way.

Third, and this may seem dramatic, it will change your life. What you experience will become a core memory that will profoundly change your outlook on the world. Outside of my wife and kids, I value nothing more than the scenes and experiences etched in my memory. They strike the soul and remind me that the world still contains grandeur, beauty, immensity, and—often lost in the world of the internet and social media—awe and wonder.

The wilderness waits for me to go back year after year, and I do.

It waits for you. If you are a pilot who wants to sharpen your skills or do something different, it is waiting for you.

If you are like me… happy to ride and enjoy… it is waiting for you. Trust me… you won’t forget it or regret it. Take the time and book your trip.

You’ll see…

Trust me... you'll see!

Lee Hudson, Psy.D., LPC

907.952.5564