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A Misty Tale… The Adventures of David "Buck" Wilson

A flightsim story

By Bryan Kirk

February...

The scene would never change. Ever since the time he was 10 years old and had left for his first Boy Scout summer camp, David Wilson would always look back and see his mother stand on the front porch of the family house, and cry!

Whether leaving for just a few days on the road for a hockey tournament or when at 16 he left with two buddies to go climb Mt. Washington, Laura Wilson always felt like she was seeing her precious son for the last time.

So as he waited in the small Bush Flying Unlimited departure lounge at Vancouver International Airport to board BFU flight 002 to Anchorage (with stops in Prince Rupert, Ketchikan and Juneau), David could not help but smile, since his mother had repeated that same scene just a few hours ago.

***

He had awakened at the crack of dawn and drove his beat-up pickup truck to MacDonald-Cartier International Airport (CYOW) in Ottawa, Ontario. His father had come along so he could drive the truck back to their home in Wakefield, Quebec since "Buck" Wilson would be leaving his trusted Chevy behind. He was sure he would find some decent wheels once he reached Alaska.

Yes, David Wilson had finally decided to leave everything behind and start something new. Since quitting the Canadian Air Force last year, "Buck" had found it difficult to adapt to a "normal" civilian life. After all, where do you go after flying C-130 Hercs for the 429th Transport Squadron - 8th Wing? What do you do after your mantra, for the past seven years, has been "Anyplace, Anytime, Anywhere"?

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He had joined the Air Force after graduating from Ottawa University, had finished first in his class and earned his wings in less than two years. He had refused to pursue the training to become a fighter jock in the CF-18's, and had focused on the multi-purposed C-130 Hercules. Somehow, it reminded him of the beloved Tonka Trucks of his youth.

After seven years of flying in hot zones (and cold places!) all over the globe, he had decided he needed something new, and had left the service.

Of course, that INCIDENT with the young wife of an older Colonel had not helped…

- "I was sure it was his daughter!", had been the only decent thing he had found to say at the court martial, and that had not helped his case at all!

What he had not expected was that the "real" world was a lot less organized than the military, and that his flying skills were not the ones Air Canada and WestJet were looking for. He had managed to get a few contracts here and there for charter services operating out of CYOW and CYND (Ottawa-Gatineau), but flying burly businessmen always complaining about being late bored him to death.

Then one night, while out for some beers at the Black Sheep Inn in Wakefield, he had met Todd Holman.

Todd was also an ex-Air Force pilot, although much older than David, and now worked full time for Air Creebec, in Northern Quebec. With beer helping, Todd had started talking about bush flying and how guys like him were a hot commodity outside of the "civilized" airspace.

Suddenly, as the folk singer on the stage started a nice rendition of Steve Earle's "My old friend the blues", the older pilot had started some undistinguishable mumbling about a crash landing in Waskaganish that was not is fault, but had snapped back to reality after the always cheerful crowd of the Black Sheep had given a warm round of applause.

- "There's only one place for you to go kid, it's Ketchikan. There's so much going on over there, everybody is looking for good pilots."

- "Come on, there must be work somewhere closer?"

- "Sure, but money won't come as easy as up in the Misty Fjords. There's a wack of Air Taxi Operators, charter operators, cargo, you name it. You can even make a decent life just freelancing with your own plane. I am telling you, that place gets pretty crazy when the cruise ships start lining up in the harbour in May and when the hunters and anglers land at PAKT.

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You won't find a spot anywhere else on the planet where there are so many Beavers, Otters, Maules and Super Cubs."

- "Yeah, but it's not like I can just show up there with a "pilot for hire" sign!"

- "No, but damn, you've been flying C-130's for crying out loud! This place IS for you. You would find something in no time! I'll make a deal with you; I am in town for a few more days, visiting my daughter. I'll make a few phone calls. Let's see each other again here tomorrow night."

And on that, the older pilot ordered another draft and started mumbling again as the singer kept on going in the background.

Driving back home that night, Buck had been lost in thoughts. Maybe bush flying was the way to go. He could not envision a life without flying, but at the same time he knew quite well he would not survive in the working environment of the commercial airlines. He realized although he didn't miss the military lifestyle, he sure as hell missed the feeling of buzzing in a C-130 for a tight landing…

The next day, he had decided to "clear his brain" and had rented a C172 at the Ottawa Flying Club. Alone in the air, he had followed his beloved Gatineau River all the way to Grand-Remous. At 3000 feet above the ground, with almost no wind to deal with, and with clear and beautiful skies, David felt at home. Forget about therapists and all the self-proclaimed "personal growth" sessions, this was HIS therapy.

Flying had actually always been a major therapy for him. His ex-wife (the marriage at lasted only a year) used to call it his "bubble". She never understood his passion about it, nor the special bond between a pilot and HIS bird. In her case, the competition had just been too much. One August night five years ago, he had come home at CFB Trenton from a supply flight to CFB Alert (Nunavut) only to find an empty apartment, and not even a note. There were no kids involved, and the divorce had been painless.

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Low and slow, watching the world unfold under him, David Wilson decided somewhere near the Maniwaki airport that he would jump on whatever that weird bush pilot might propose to him tonight. Maybe Alaska was indeed the best place for him at the moment.

He arrived at the Black Sheep Inn at around 8:00pm. The grey haired pilot was already sitting at the bar, and David was pretty sure he had been on that stool for awhile.

- "So you showed up young man!", Todd yelled out. "We need to talk."

He then started chatting about Ketchikan, and the year he had lived there.

- "I flew all around the world kid. And I met all sorts of people. But I left my heart in the Misty Fjords. It's tough to describe the feeling you get when flying over there. The weather and the air are unique. Sometimes, when I would be picking up clients in a small cabin somewhere, I would just stand at the end of the dock, close my eyes, and just absorb it all. It's priceless."

David figured the old guy was getting drunk and sentimental, but he did have to admit that he felt attracted to that place.

- "Anyways", he said suddenly coming back to reality, "I made some calls. There's this girl I know over there. She's quite the character, but she owes me a few favours."

And so Todd Hunter introduced him to the "legend" of Ms. Patsy "Misty" Fletcher, owner and operator of "Misty's Place", the best hangout spot for pilots this side of Juneau.

***

She was quite the character alright. In her mid 40's, she was born in Ketchikan, and the further south she had ever been was Prince Rupert, British Columbia. Her father, Bill Fletcher had moved to Alaska after WW2, and had numerous "brief" encounters with the ladies of the area.

One foggy and rainy June morning, still hung-over from the previous night, he had found a little baby girl in a basket at the front door of his "shack", "She's your daughter, good luck", was the only thing written on the note that hung on the basket, and he had fought the urge to run away after he had picked up the baby… with a wet diaper!

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But he had not run away, and the new arrival had changed his life. He had quit drinking, and promised to himself he would make sure his little "misty" baby would be raised straight.

He had sold everything he owed except his Beaver, plunged into his life savings and his veteran's allowance, and opened Misty's Place, a small general store located in Thorne Bay.

With the Misty Fjords National Monument area expanding and starting to attract more and more people, his little operation became the local hangout spot for pilots, and whoever could get there.

After he passed away in 1994, Misty Fletcher had naturally decided to run the place, since it was the only thing she had ever learned to do… right! Misty's Place was now a coffee shop/restaurant/bar/general store/boarding house/repair shop, where locals and outsiders would drop by for a good cup of coffee, an excellent meal, gas, conversation, a set of spark plugs, or an engine overhaul by Hank the mechanic. In the 80's, Bill Fletcher had even build a 2500' dirt runway for wheeled airplanes, and a small marina so that all the boats that passed by could stop.

All Misty Fletcher was trying to do was run a "man's business" in a "man's world" ... and she was doing a darn good job of it. She could hold her own with both the mechanics out in the hangar and the guys that stayed too late at the bar. And she could "smell" when the conditions were REALLY not decent for VFR flying!

Now 44 years old, Misty woke up with a smile every morning, thinking about, as happened again last night, the long string of bush pilots that had tried to navigate their way into her bed. Yes, they were a bunch of rascals, but for Misty, they were still the guys with the most class, at least in this part of the United States. She just could not stand the guys who worked in the lumber mills, and the fishermen… all smelled like fish!

One day, she had crossed path with Todd Hunter. He was quite younger back then, and had something different than the other "flyboys" she was used to meet. Todd flew a big Super Otter for one of the lumber companies, and had become a regular at Misty's Place. Good time they had shared for more than six months (quite a record for Misty), before he had one night left town to go back east.

She still had a special place in her heart for Todd, and was shocked when he called her (after more than 10 years) to ask a favour.

***

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The conversation had been awkward, like those always were. After the small talk and the bad tries at excuses, Todd had mentioned to Misty he had befriended with a young pilot looking for a new beginning, and that he thought the kid had a good heart.

It just so happened she was looking for help. The guy that had been her "pilot/jack of all trades" for the past two years was about to leave her for something better (at least that's what he thought it was), and she needed a good lad to help out, mostly to fly around the small fleet of airplanes she owned (including her father's beloved Beaver) and used for cargo, charter and to fly in stuff from "down south". If he could get to the Misty Fjords at his own expenses and not mind living in somewhat "tight" quarters for awhile… and especially if he was more pleasant to look at than her ever-frowning mechanic Hank… Misty was willing to give him a break.

***

The friendly smile of the lounge attendant that came to remind him it was time to board his flight brought David back to reality. It was only a quick walk to the plane, so he rapidly found his seat in the tight Beechcraft 1900D that Bush Flying Unlimited used for its daily "milk run" flight from Vancouver to Anchorage.

David hated to be a passenger on an airplane. For most of the five and a half hour flight between Ottawa and Vancouver, he had closed his eyes and visualized the operations in the flight deck of the Airbus. He had never been a fan of the "heavy irons", and had always wondered how a pilot could keep his flying "edge" while letting a computer do the work.

Not long after buckling up, the first officer was on the intercom to announce that they would be leaving the gate on time. "Not bad for a small operation like this", thought David.

While looking for a good deal to get himself to PAKT, he had stumbled upon this new service of BFU. Well know in Canada and the US for its various charter services, Bush Flying Unlimited had started last year to

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offer a limited number of regular passenger flights, mostly in BC and Alaska. Reliable, trouble-free, and cheap, the experience had caught on and BFU now planned to double the service next summer.

As the dual Pratt & Whitney engines came to life, David settled in his seat and smiled that the one next to him was not occupied. In this plane, that was almost like a first-class ticket! Since he had slept for most of the flight from Ottawa, he decided to catch up on some reading, and pulled out some documentation on Ketchikan and the Misty Fjords area, as well as some maps that Ms. Fletcher had mailed him.

As he always did (when he was not in the cockpit), he closed his eyes for a few seconds as the pilot pushed the throttles forward, released the brakes and the plane slowly started to roll down the runway.

From what he could see from his seat, he figured they were taking off from runway 26L. The cloud base was pretty low, so he had only a few minutes to admire the beautiful Vancouver area from his window seat.

The first officer was back on the intercom to announce some general information about the flight. They would be cruising at 20 000', but a strong head wind would have an impact on the flying time, which was now estimated at two hours and fifteen minutes. Weather was nice in Prince Rupert and Ketchikan, but they did expect some light turbulence on approach, since they would be flying through some bad weather over the Coast Mountains.

David's only regret was that he was sitting on the left side of the plane, looking west, instead of east. He was missing out on the scenery, but he knew he would have many other opportunities in the near future to admire the mountains.

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About two hours after take-off, the first officer announced they were starting their descent to Prince Rupert. "These guys are good", David told himself, as the Beech kept descending towards the mountains in what looked like a thick fog cover. Upon reaching the coast again, and has the plane turned to line up to land on runway 13, he even had a great view on Big Bay.

At 13:57, the main wheels gently kissed the runway, and the 1900D rapidly exited the runway for what David hoped would be a quick stop in Prince Rupert.

***

The last of the three passengers debarking in Prince Rupert had just finished going down the stairs when a member of the ground crew climbed aboard and started whispering something in the ear of the flight attendant. As the burly man was talking to her, David had the strange feeling he was the topic of discussion, since both of them were staring at him. When they finished talking, the attractive young lady started walking towards him, and Dave could fell that ALL eyes were now on him.

- "Excuse me Mr. Wilson, but it seems you are requested in the terminal"

- "Huh….?", he simply replied, wondering what might be going on.

- "All they told me was that you would not be continuing the flight with us."

That got Dave somewhat concerned. In his only phone conversation with Misty Fletcher, only two days ago, she had assured him that customs and immigration would not be a problem. People easily "disappeared" in this

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part of North America! If that was the case, why the heck would he need to get off here?

He reluctantly picked up his small carry-on bag and put on his Gore-Tex jacket. Walking down the small stairs, he noticed someone was waiting for him just a few yards away, with a hand on his Lowe backpack.

- "David? Hi, name is Larry Campbell, I am the assistant manager of the airport."

Both men started walking towards the small terminal, as Mr. Campbell explained.

- "The manager of one of the local lumber mills left yesterday for a few weeks in Hawaii. While he's gone, he made arrangements so that Hank would do an overhaul of the engine of the Scout he uses to go fishing. Hank is too busy to come over and pick-it up, so Misty said you could fly it back up to her place."

- "And who might Hank be?"

- " Sorry! I forgot you were new around here! Hank is God!", Campbell said while laughing out loud. "Seriously, he's the mechanic at Misty's Place. He's a magician. Guys frequently outbid each other just hoping he'll have some free time to work on their planes."

- "So I guess I will be working with Hank then."

- "Actually, nobody works WITH Hank. He's quite the character. Goes along just well with Ms. Misty. Heck, I've know him for 10 years and he still barely says hi. I think the only word he knows is "thanks", and that's after you pay him for the job! Odds are you'll become his new test pilot."

The two of them crossed the terminal and headed for the GA hangars. Larry explained that the Scout David was about to fly into Thorne Bay had a lot of "history". The engine had been rebuilt a few times, and there were not many lakes in the area it had not landed on. "One tough little bird" he had added.

As they entered the hangar, David started realizing he had absolutely NO clue of what he was getting into. Here he was, a long, long way from home, getting ready to fly an amphib plane in an area he didn't know, and to a destination he didn't know. The only good news was that the weather conditions seemed pretty good for this part of the world.

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- "Anybody around here that needs a lift to up there? I wouldn't mind a guide in the back seat", he asked.

- "Well, everything is pretty quiet around here today. None of our regular GA guys are around since they all left earlier today for their weekly group flight. Many showed up actually, 'cause this is the best weather we had in many weeks. But don't worry; you'll get there with your eyes closed! Around here, most pilots have GPS's with a good local database and this plane has one also. Once you reached Ketchikan, you can dial the Misty's Place NDB. You should pick it up not too long after that. Let's go for a coffee, and I will walk-you through the sectional map. You'll see… a piece of cake."

While drinking some lukewarm coffee served in the office of the assistant manager, David started studying the sectional. This did indeed look pretty straightforward. Nothing too complicated in flying over water, and it would give him an early glance at the area that would become his new home.

So Ms. Misty didn't want to wait to get him busy he told himself. Oh well, why not! The unexpected had been part of his military life for a long time anyways.

After about 30 minutes of chatting and plotting, Larry recommended to him that he should start thinking about leaving, since this would probably be the best weather conditions he would get today

David grabbed a can of Coke and a bag of chips from a vending machine, and walked again towards the hangar, with a light bounce in his step. He was coming here for adventure, and it sure looked like adventure had found him! Larry wished him good luck, and told him he would give a call to Ms. Misty to tell her he was about to leave.

After a somewhat long walk-around and extensive checks, he climbed aboard the small cockpit, fitted his big frame inside of it as best as he could, and turned on the master switch. The Scout quickly came to life, and he turned on the avionics and the Garmin GPS. In just a few clicks, he had on the screen a direct-to flight path to Thorne Bay… and he was ready to start the engine!

Taxiing towards runway 13, his biggest concern was getting used to handling an amphib plane. This WAS weird. He heard cracks and squeals from everywhere, but it seemed to be staying in one piece!

David did a quick scan of the instruments and took yet another peek at the sectional map, while rolling towards the hold-short line. He then announced his takeoff intention on the CYPR traffic channel, and

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proceeded onto the runway. He kept telling himself this would be a piece of cake, but also knew damn well the last thing he wanted to do was to botch his first landing at Misty's Place. That would not make a good first impression!

He pushed in the throttle and the Scout started rumbling down the runway (not too gracefully he would add!). He was rapidly airborne, and was immediately enchanted by the Scout and how it felt in the air. With no significant cloud base to deal with, but a somewhat limited visibility in the immediate vicinity of the airport, he settled in at 2500' and easily trimmed the plane for cruise.

The remaining 75 minutes of the flight would stay engraved in his mind forever. What he was witnessing was not spectacular, it was breathtaking! Cruising along at this low altitude, he decided to just let the surroundings sink-in. For all the research, pictures, and conversation about this place, this flight was the most amazing first impression he could of have. He even wondered if Ms. Misty had not planned it this way.

Since he was in no rush, and now REALLY enjoying the Scout, he decided to casually cruise along the east coast of Chatham Sound, then the Revillagigedo Channel as far as Ketchikan. A quick glance at the sectional confirmed it would not be a complicated route to follow.

He kept listening closely to the UNICOMM frequency, trying to stay at a good distance from the other traffic. It was a somewhat difficult task, since he was not familiar to the region and sure as hell didn't want to come face-to-face with a Beaver coming out of one of those valleys! The one good news was that the flying conditions were amazing for this time of the year, and that the fog that had been hanging around Prince Rupert was lifting fast as he was flying north.

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Approaching the PAKT airspace, he contacted the tower to request a Class D airspace transit, and then proceeded towards Tongass Narrows to fly over Ketchikan. He then turned to the northwest and towards Thorne Bay.

With visibility improving more and more as the minutes passed, David wished he had not left his digital camera in his backpack. He was now flying over Clarence Strait, along the Kasaan Peninsula. From what he saw on his GPS and the sectional map, it would soon be time to start thinking about his approach to Thorne Bay, and to Misty's Place.

Now at 1500', there was no need for a long descent as he reached Tolstoi Point. He contacted Misty's Place on the UNICOMM, and was surprised to hear Ms. Misty herself answer back.

- "Glad to hear you made it in one piece son. Winds are calm at 2 knots from the 040. We are doing some minor repairs on the runway this afternoon, so just go land in the bay, and Hank will roll the plane in tomorrow."

- "Roger that. Winds at 2 knots from 040, clear to land in the bay. See you in a few minutes."

- "I'll be on the dock!"

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Reluctantly, David reduced the throttles and started the short descent, while lining-up to land right in front of Misty Place's which he now had a visual on. He also took a peek at the small community of Thorne, just across the bay, which he figured would soon become his new "hometown".

The Scout was indeed a joy to fly, and he hoped he would do so again in the near future. With calm winds to deal with, he double-checked for any objects he might have missed when he flew over his landing area and adjusted his power while on short final.

With a lot of water to work with, he gracefully touched down close to the dock (and of his new boss) but was somewhat caught by surprise by the "tippy" attitude of the Scout when he tried to turn a bit too abruptly towards shore.

Ms. Misty guided him in, and grabbed the plane herself when David reached the dock. In no time, she had secured it, and he was climbing down the Scout.

- "Welcome to Alaska kid! That was a nice landing."

- "I always believed in first impressions!"

- "Well, that was not bad then. Let's go inside, you must be starving!"

And on that, "Buck" Wilson grabbed his backpack from the empty back seat, and had to run a bit to catch up to his new boss.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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A Misty Tale… The Adventures of David "Buck" Wilson

A flightsim story

By Bryan Kirk

February...

David was not sure what woke him up first. The distant sound of a foghorn blowing? The close-by sound of dishes crashing on the floor? Or the very attractive smell of double-smoked belly bacon that was floating in

the air?

He slapped on some jeans, a cotton shirt and proceeded downstairs, to find the dining room already quite busy, even if it was only 6:15am.

- "You're lucky Buck, I decided to let you sleep this morning!", yelled out Ms. Misty, who had her hands full with three plates of what

seemed to be eggs served with quite a large load of meat!

- "Sorry, I guess I was jet-lagged."

- "It's okay! Just go in the back and put on an apron. You can pick-up the five tables in the back…"

And that's how David Wilson learned that upon his many "and all other duties" were included waiter/busboy duties during the breakfast rush!

And what a rush it was… He never thought a little lost place in Alaska could attract so many patrons. But then again, those plates did look quite appetizing!

While running in and out of the kitchen, he had been puzzled by the loud swearing coming from the cooking plate. Nothing particular about that in a kitchen, but the fact that it was in French was quite surprising!

And so at around 9:00am, once the dining room was almost empty and the tables all cleaned, David Wilson met "Frenchie", Misty's Place infamous cook (although he preferred to be called "chef").

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His real name was François Dumais. He had arrived unannounced in the Misty Fjords six years ago, with a bag full of pots and pans. No one really knew where he was from, but his very limited English speaking skills sure hinted he was not from anywhere close!

In fact, he was the ex-owner and chef of a highly acclaimed bistro, in the southwest of France. His "cuisine du terroir nouveau

genre" and his well stocked wine cellar had received numerous awards through the years, including a much sought "3 stars" rating in the famous Guide Michelin, the bible of French Restaurants.

In 1997, the review board of the Guide Michelin had surprisingly decided to drop his rating by one star. It may not sound like such a big drama to some, but a few French chefs have killed themselves for such a drop in the rating!

Instead François decided to disappear. He sold the restaurant, and decided to travel the world, with no real purpose. Then one day, he had landed in Ketchikan. Like many Europeans he was attracted by the "great frontier" and the wilderness. And of course, the Ketchikan self-proclaimed title of "Salmon capital of the world" intrigued him.

He had enjoyed himself there, met a local girl that fell in love with him, and he with her, and decided to stay. He had somehow ended up as boss of the kitchen at Misty's Place, and the rest was history.

Or actually, more than history! His first few years at Misty's Place had remained quite uneventful. The locals and the few tourists that either flew in or visited by boat were often amazed by the cooking, but it did remain

quite isolated.

But in 2002, totally unannounced, the famous magazine Wine Spectator had rated Misty's Place in the no. 5 spot of their "top 25 most exotic places to dine in North America".

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That rating had created quite a shock to everyone in the Misty Fjords, and Frenchie was back in the headlines. So much for the quiet remote life!

In 2003, the restaurant had been featured on Food TV and in several trendy magazines. With all the hype, a meal at Misty's was now on the "must do" list of many of the cruise ships tourists, and of the rich and famous from all over North America.

Of course, Misty Fletcher and not missed the occasion. From May to October, she had exclusive deals with a few of the cruise ship operators, and offered different packages. Some of the more wealthy visitors would fly directly from down south to Ketchikan International, and then get an airlift to Misty's and spend the weekend. Even the small community of Thorne, on the other side of the bay, had benefited.

A meal at Misty's was somewhat of an experience. While some customers enjoyed a "saumon tartare with balsamic vinegar glazed scallops" served with a glass of Riesling, right next to them can be two fishermen chewing on a "Misty BLT" and drinking Pepsi. And of course, they were always a few lumberjacks spending their pay checks at the bar, or on a "friendly" game of poker!

***

Frenchie stood tall in the kitchen and was sipping coffee from a small expresso cup. No doubt it, this guy was NOT from around here.

- "You must be the new guy… Welcome to our little piece of heaven!" he said, and then burst out laughing. "Come, it's time for you to meet all the crew. We usually all sit down for a few minutes once the breakfast rush is done."

They walked back together towards the dining room and the large corner table, which overlooked Thorne Bay and the main dock. Misty sat at one end, while members of the kitchen staff were pulling up a few chairs and sitting down as well. Buck and Frenchie poured themselves some fresh coffee, and turned their heads when Hank and his apprentice, Junior, walked in from outside.

- "Okay everyone; here's our new chief pilot. I heard his real name is David, but he mostly goes around as Buck. So Buck it will be!" proclaimed Misty, in between a pull on her cigarette and a sip of coffee.

And Ms. Misty went on.

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- "Things are a bit quieter around here in the winter. So you'll have time to get to know everyone and to find your way around the Fjords before the boats start coming in."

- "And not to get lost!" added Frenchie, once again bursting out laughing.

- "From what I've been told, that should not be a problem", quickly added Misty.

Buck just smiled, and was glad she had not, as they had agreed, talked about his military past.

- "So what's the plan for today?" he asked.

- "Well, the weather is pretty good again. I think you should get to know The Frog. Junior, why don't you go show him around? Fly to Hyder by the mountains."

- "The Frog?" Buck said looking puzzled.

- "Ms. Misty has a name for all the planes in her fleet, added Frenchie. The Frog is an amphib Maule we use for almost everything. We also have The Fridge, that's the Commander cargo plane that we use to fly supplies from down south. We call it The Fridge because we mostly use it to go get my fresh supplies in Seattle. And of course, we got The Beaver."

- "That's my father's plane, Misty added. It's not in the best of shape anymore and we haven't used it in a few years. But Hank promised he would bring her back to life this summer."

- "And he will", pointed out Junior, always looking to be in the good graces of his boss.

- "And then there's The Bee!" laughed out Christy, one of the kitchen staff.

- "The Bee?"

- "We'll talk about that one later", said Misty.

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While Buck, Junior, Misty and Hank stayed at the table and continued chatting (at least for the first three of them) the rest of the Misty's Place crew went about to continue their daily routines.

- "Junior will be a good guide. He might still be young, but he's a top-notch pilot."

- "And I can get you in an' out of any of those valleys Flyboy."

Flyboy? Had he just called him Flyboy? Buck told himself.

- "Well, I am here to fly so I might as well get started today!" David tried to sound enthusiast, but in his eyes Junior looked a lot more like a "grease monkey" than a skilled pilot.

- "You just be careful with that plane son. Around here, you fix what you break. I am quite busy", mumbled Hank. He then filled his mug again and left to go back to his hangar.

***

While Buck went back upstairs to get his coat, Junior rushed outside to catch up with his mentor.

- "That guy sure looks like a city slicker to me Chief!"

- "I don't like him. He looks way too comfortable if you ask me. Why don't you give him a "nice" ride today?"

- "Count on me. He'll be on the next flight to Vancouver once I am done!"

- "Just make sure you don't crash The Frog. It's our best plane."

***

Walking toward the hangar, Buck took a few seconds to let the surroundings sink in. Misty's Place was well tucked into a small part of Thorne Bay. He had to admit to himself that the place was impressive. And by some of the pictures Ms. Misty had showed him the night before, this place was indeed quite busy in the summer/fall seasons.

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Approaching the hangar, he saw Junior and Hank getting The Frog ready. He had heard about Maules in the past, but had yet to fly one. It had quite a reputation and he figured it was probably one of the best suited planes for this area. What he had not expected, was how beat-up the plane actually looked like.

- "Don't let her looks fool you son. She's a great bird. This ain't no fancy air show we have up here in the bush. Our planes get abused", Hank snorted at him.

Ignoring the sarcasm, he started to inspect the plane closely. It was darn dirty, but he had to admit to himself that it was in top shape. He and Junior climbed aboard at the same time, and the apprentice rapidly gave him a description of the instruments.

- "Not much to deal with actually. Nothing fancy here except the GPS. She flies pretty smooth. We use her a lot. Hank fixed the back seats so we can remove them to haul more stuff when we need to. The only tricky thing is that she's a bit tough to trim. You got to play with the wheel a lot to settle her down."

- We'll see about that", Buck replied as he called the "prop" and fired up the Lycoming engine.

While Junior tuned the radio to the Misty Fjords UNICOMM (122.90), he released the parking brake and started taxiing towards the end of runway 12.

- "Let's take her up to 2500' and fly east. We'll cross the Strait and then go towards Behm Canal. I'll show you some of the hot spots, and then we'll cut across the mountains to get to Hyder. Should be great today with the weather", proposed Junior over the intercom.

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- "Fine with me, just hold on tight", he said as he pushed in the throttle and got the plane off the ground quick… real quick! Junior just had time to grab the holding bar as the Maule rapidly climbed and Buck started turning towards Thorne Bay.

- "You crazy? I almost broke my neck! I just hope Hank was not watching. He REALLY does not like it when we put extra stress

on the planes for nothing.

- "What? Nothing crazy there. You want me to learn about this plane or not? Just a standard wet grass takeoff practice. I need to know what this plane can do when I am gonna' need it for real."

The two of them remained silent for a few minutes. Buck played with the controls and experienced with the trim wheel. They were now well over Clarence Strait, and heading towards Meyers Chuck.

- "That's Rainbow Lake over there in the distance, Junior pointed out as they reached the Cleveland Peninsula. There's a really nice cabin there. We don't fly there much, but it's a really great spot. Good fishing also. That big mountain is Mount Burnett."

- "Where do WE fly to exactly?" Buck asked. That's one thing he had not really figured out yet!

- "Well, we stay pretty busy. We don't do a lot of charters to the cabins or the fishing lodges. There are a lot of guys in Ketchikan who do that, and the BFU bullies have that market nailed down. You should see them hover around the tourists when the boats arrive in the harbour. Real hawks!"

Junior went on to explain that Misty's Place did however fly many "special" flights. "The problem with Ms. Misty is that she just can't say "no." We end up flying all sorts of people and stuff all over the place. And I am not that convinced they all pay her for it. At least, that's what Hank thinks."

- "So we basically are like cab drivers?"

- "We do some good contracts. The biggest one is the 'Fly and Dine'."

- "The what?"

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- "That will be your main thing I presume. From Monday to Saturday, we pick-up tourists coming off the boats in Ketchikan Harbour. They actually reserve in advance for this, 'cause it's pretty popular. We do a sightseeing flight. If the weather is good, we bring them to Last Chance Lake and they can go hiking or for a Jeep trip in the glaciers. After that, we bring them to Misty's for one of Frenchie's fancy meal. Sometimes, they sleep over, or you fly them back to PAKT."

- "How long does that last?"

- "Usually from May to October."

- "And we use The Frog for that?"

- "Hell no! We got a bigger plane. Told you, it's a pretty popular thing. Ms. Misty owes 50% of a Twin Otter with Todd Simmons. He's a local who hates the winter. So he and his wife work in a small resort in some island in the Caribbean during winter. They fly back in April and then run Klinkwan Fish Camp until the fall. So we use the Twotter for the tours. We also fly patrons in and out of Klinkwan on Sundays with The Bee."

- "So you fly any of those?" David asked, while the Maule was flying over Spacious Bay towards Behm Canal.

- "Not much. Ms. Misty says I'm short on 'people skills'. Don't see what she means, but I don't complain."

Buck was slowly starting to get a clearer picture of his new job. No doubt about it, he would be flying a lot. And he had to admit this Maule was not a bad plane at all. But what the heck was that "Bee" they all talked about?

- "That's Yes Bay over there. There's a big lodge, quite popular, but we don't do much flying there either. They have charter deals with BFU and with Promech. Right over there is Bell Island Hot Springs. That's another hot spot. Now that's a place for sightseeing when the ladies decide to go outside!" Junior added, with a deep laugh and almost scary look in his eyes.

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As the plane reached Whaley Point (the northeast point of Revillagigedo Island), they turned south to follow Behm Canal. Junior kept peeking at his map, while Buck absorbed the scenery.

- "You can start descending a bit; we'll turn west in one of those valleys in a few minutes. From there, we'll reach Hyder through the glaciers. You see those rapids on the right? That leads you to Spotted Lake Retreat. It's a great fishing spot. We got a few contracts with them."

As he slowly descended towards the entrance of the Chickamin River, Buck continued to play with the trim wheel to get a "comfort zone". "You got the sectional close-by? I want to take a peek at the route we are going to follow."

- "Don't worry. I could guide you through those valleys with my eyes closed! Just keep your eyes out for birds…"

Buck didn't like the idea, but decided to thrust the kid. "Okay then. Just make sure we don't slam in a mountain!"

The thought of some "tree top" valley flying reminded Buck of some pretty hairy rides in his Herc not that long ago.

- "Just follow the river and then we'll hug that mountain ahead to the right, following the Chickamin. On the left, it's the Leduc River. We'll slowly get closer to the glaciers and with this weather, it's 'gonna be a real treat", added Junior (who was keeping a close eye on his map, and figuring out where he might take a "wrong" turn).

This guy is good Junior repeated himself. Can't believe how smooth he is with this plane!

Buck was about to turn left, still following the Chickamin, when Junior corrected him. "Just keep going straight, it's the safest way".

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- "You sure about that", he asked, noticing that the mountains were getting closer and that the valley looked more and more like a dead-end.

- "Yup. No sweat."

They kept flying for another 5 minutes in silence, while getting closer and closer to what sure looked like a "wall of trees".

- "Buck, I think we have a problem", Junior said, trying his best to sound concerned. "I might have missed a turn back there."

- "I know that kid! I was just wondering how long you would wait until you told me", Buck replied dryly. The tone he used would have frozen the blood of anyone at this moment.

- "WHAT!?"

- "Listen. I don't know what game your playing but next time, make sure you don't leave under the seat this handy 'cheat sheet' I've been following since we left! Now just shut up, hold on tight, and give me those sectional and topo maps!" ordered Buck quite directly.

Junior followed the order without a word and watched in amazement as Buck pushed in the throttles and pitched up the nose of the Maule.

- "We'll fly to the end of Barrier Creek while climbing. I figure we have enough room to clear that mountain ahead and then we'll get 'on top' until we reach the glaciers. Then, I'll decide what I am going to do with you!"

This Maule has some power. We are goin' to make it. Come on… come

on…

The airspeed was decreasing as the plane kept creeping up, but Buck figured they'd made it. He reduced the rate of climb, and started to trim the plane back to their new cruise altitude. They were now at 4500', over the Davis River.

God, he didn't even break a

sweat doing this. This guy is for real.

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As they approached the Soulé Glacier, Buck was astonished by what he was seeing. With all the glaciers now in sight, and well above any dangerous mountain, he settled at 6000' and kept flying north. "We'll turn towards that glacier there. I think it's the Thumb." Pointing at the map, he turned to Junior. "What's that river that goes down the valley?"

- "It's Thumb Creek. That's Last Chance Lake just down there. That's where we stop on the 'Fly & Dine' tours. That valley over there will bring us to the Salmon River and we can just follow it south to Hyder."

- "Okay. We'll stop there for a coffee… and a nice little chat."

They reached the Salmon River in just a few minutes, and Buck started a slow descent towards Portland Canal and Hyder. He tried real hard to look mad, but he was actually having the time of his life.

As the Maule came out of the valley and onto Portland Canal, he turned south to prepare his approach to the Hyder seaplane base. This would his first water landing with the Maule, and he decided it was not the time for fancy stuff.

So he played it safe and gently let the Maule settle on the water and then turned towards the huge dock that reached out in Portland Canal.

***

- "You hungry?" asked Junior as they walked on the dock toward the small town.

- "Not that much. Those Frenchie breakfasts sure can fill a stomach!"

- "We'll go grab a coffee at the Sealaska Inn. It's right up there", replied Junior while pointing at a building just at the end of the

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dock.

They walked in the hotel and headed for the seating area. Buck picked a small table near the windows, while Junior ordered a coffee and a Coke at the bar.

Buck lost no time to confront him. "Okay boy. Don't know what the heck you tried to pull off back there, but I am not impressed. Like or not, I am the new chief pilot and you better get use to it."

Junior didn't say a word, but kept shaking his left leg and was now sweating like if it was 100 degrees. Okay, this guy is frightened, Buck told himself.

- "If that was Misty's idea of an initiation, it wasn't funny. You don't play games when you are flying. Anything could have gone wrong in that dead-end valley and we could have slammed in the mountain", Buck told him in his most military tone.

- "It wasn't her", Junior whispered. "I… I… "

Okay, time for the kill!

- "Forget about it! Just go in the washroom and freshen up. I think I see some tears rollin' down your cheek. I don't have time for this bull…!"

That should do it!

Junior stood and walked to the back of the room while David sipped on his coffee and observed the locals. Nothing seemed to be in a rush here.

He still had in mind all the scenery he had observed while coming in. He was thinking of Todd Hunter. The ol' fool was right. I have never seen

anything like this. That one hour flight was probably the best one of my life!

Junior came back ten minutes later and seemed rejuvenated.

- "I am sorry Buck. I just…"

- "I told you to forget about it. I'll deal with this myself when we get back."

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***

They finished their drinks and walked back towards the Hyder dock.

- "This place is great!" said Buck.

- "Oh yes. Very busy in the summer. It's mostly a fishing town. You can eat some darn good halibut here. That's the Canadian border over there, and that's Stewart. We try not to go there too much."

- "Why not?"

- "Hank says those Canadians are all Communists! We have to watch ourselves around them." It became quite obvious to Buck that Misty had REALLY not told anyone about his background.

Oh yes, Hank

- "That might be a bit far fetched!"

- "No no! There just a bunch of tree huggin' pot smokin' pacifists. They have all those environmental freaks watching the glaciers and trying to block the Alaskan pipeline. Heck they don't even want to join the missile shield thing. Go figure that out!"

Calm down big guy!

- "Or maybe they just realized we'd shoot down the missiles anyway, whether they like or not. And so they just saved a bunch of money!" That put an end to the discussion.

They approached the Maule and did a thorough pre-flight inspection. "You sure are meticulous about these things Buck!"

- "I told you. You can't afford to cut corners up there kid. If you learn only one thing from me, I hope it's that. So, where do you want to go now?"

- "Well, Ms. Misty did ask me to show you around. Let's go down Portland Canal. We'll cut across the Peabody Mountains and reach Revillagigedo Canal and stop for lunch somewhere. Frenchie packed up a few sandwiches for us."

- "Okay. Sounds like a plan. Let's get going."

TO BE CONTINUED…

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A Misty tale… The adventures of David "Buck" Wilson

A flightsim story

By Bryan Kirk

February… Buck taxied out to a safe distance from the Hyder dock and pushed in the throttles while Junior was announcing their departure on the Unicomm frequency. Taking-off north, the Maule briefly entered Canadian airspace

and flew right over Stewart while Buck continued climbing and turning to the south.

They settled at 3000' and followed Portland Canal at a nice airspeed of 125 KIAS. Junior seemed to have totally recuperated from his confrontation with Buck, and was now speaking non-stop.

"That's Raptor Lake", he said while pointing to a small plateau in the

middle of the Rousseau Range. "Ol' Joe lives there year-round in a small cabin. I usually fly stuff in for him. He's a hermit, quite eccentric."

The young man also explained to Buck that many cabins of the Forest Service were located deep in the Tongass National Forest. "But that's for another day."

The day was splendid. Unlimited visibility, a few puffs of clouds here and there, limited wind. A perfect day in paradise Buck told himself. It was probably the best way for him to get things going. He was still somewhat buzzed by his busy day of yesterday. After all, he had got out of bed in Wakefield and got to bed in Thorne! But this is what he wanted. He already had the feeling that things would never be routine around here. It was a bit much to absorb all at once, but he had been in places far… far worst then here.

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They were approaching Maple Bay when Junior indicated they would soon be turning in-land, towards the Peabodies. "You can actually start descending. It's up to you, but you can fly down the valley at a pretty low altitude."

As usual, Buck elected to play it safe and entered the valley at 1800'. Once again, he let the scenery sink in as the Maule cruised in between the tall mountains.

"I have to admit this has been quite the ride so far", he finally told Junior.

"And it's just your first day!"

Still cruising at over 120 KIAS, they rapidly reached Marten Arm and then the Boca de Quadra. "I have an idea, said Junior. Frenchie packed us some sandwiches. Why don't we land in a bay and soak in some sun?"

Okay, this kid might not be too bad after all!

"Any good spots around here?"

"Yeah. There's a nice cabin in Alava Bay. It's very close to here. It's probably locked, but we can just sit on the dock."

"Okay, sounds like a plan", Buck said while turning to a heading of 330 degrees and starting a slow descent. "We should have brought some sun tan lotion!"

***

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Now more and more familiar with the Maule, David decided to try a steeper descent. The plane responded flawlessly, and he quickly spotted the little cabin and beached the Maule right next to the dock, on the small gravel beach.

"I hope you like chunky smoked salmon sandwiches, 'cause you'll be eating many of those around here! It's one of Frenchie's specialties. We pick-up the smoked salmon in Hyder a few times a week in the summer months." Not bad at all, Buck told himself while wiping off some

homemade basil dijonaise from his lips.

They stayed at the Alava Bay cabin for 45 minutes, and Junior barely stopped talking. At least, Buck now had a pretty clear picture of the daily life at Misty's Place.

"My biggest job is the supply run for Frenchie. I fly the Commander every Thursday morning to Harvey Field, near Seattle. In the summer, I even

fly there twice a week."

"Harvey Field?"

"It's just north of Seattle. Frenchie's supplier lives not far from there, in Redmond. And it's a lot easier to get in and out of there than at KSEA or Bremerton. It's a private GA field, but the Harvey's come up to Misty's every summer, so they have no prob with us using their strip. And they serve a damn good steak at the airport restaurant! Basically, Frenchie's guy comes in with his refrigerated truck and we stack everything in the plane. I usually leave Misty's with a full load of fuel, and don't refuel at Harvey's. Based on the winds, I sometime stop on the way back for just enough fuel to get me back. Let's just say the Commander is quite loaded when we leave Harvey!"

"That's sounds like fun."

"It's one of the only flights Ms. Misty allows me to do. She says I can't offend fresh produce and sides of beef and pork!"

They finished the sandwiches and decided it was time to go. Although the weather was almost too perfect, Junior reminded Buck that things change

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pretty fast in this small part of the world. "And never get too comfortable!"

They pushed the Maule out to sea, and paddled a hundred yards out before boarding and starting the engines.

"Let's fly to the tip of Prince of Wales Island and then up Klakas Inlet. I would not mind having a look at the inside passage of the island, especially with this visibility", explained Buck

"Fine with me. That's some pretty straight forward flying."

They climbed to 3000' and cruised at 110 KIAS, heading for Felice Strait. "That's Annette Island", pointed out Junior. "The BFU guys have there home base over at PANT. There not my best friends, but I have to admit they did quite a nice job at fixing up the old airport. On your side, it's Duke Island. And right ahead, it's the little Percy Islands."

They were now flying over the Clarence Strait, when Buck spotted an incoming Cessna 185 on floats that was also flying towards the tip of Prince of Wales Island.

"He's probably going to the Fleet Bay dock. That's where many of the fishing boats go for parts and supply."

"Let's go take a look", proposed Buck, while descending in direction of the Cape Chacoin lighthouse.

They followed the C-185, and flew right over the base. Buck noticed that there was indeed quite a number of fishing boats in the bay, something he would have to remember if he ever needed to land in the area.

They then turned due north, in direction of the inside passage of the island.

"There's a lot of air traffic around here in the spring and summer. Just over there is Hunter Bay Cannery. Darn good food there. It's hot spot for fishermen. Most bush pilots avoid it 'cause they don't want to mingle with the 'fish heads'. I don't mind them. And they have some cute waitresses!"

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"Sure are a lot of small islands down there! It's gotta be dangerous to land?"

"Hank has the place all charted out. You just need to know which ones NOT to land close to. Over there is Klinkwan Fish Camp. That's the spot I told you about. Ms. Misty is part owner of the place. We fly people in and out of there every week. Believe me; you can do some SERIOUS fishing around here! The runway is a bit tricky to approach, but once you get the

hang of it…"

While flying north, now over Klakas Inlet, Junior proposed that they climb a bit in order to clear the mountains between the inlet and the south arm of the Cholmondeley Sound. Buck was still looking in all directions, trying to "memorize" as much of the landscape as he could. He was actually happy to have Junior at his side. Maybe the kid was not strong-minded, but he had 'local knowledge' and that

was priceless. They were just clearing the last mountain top before reaching the "South Arm" when Junior pointed at the bottom of the bay.

"I guess you can't see it, but Dan Ridgeway's summer place is down there."

"Dan Ridgeway? THE Dan Ridgeway?", Buck asked with a puzzled look.

"The Redskins quarterback and prodigal son of Ketchikan! He had that place built for him a few years ago. He's not a pilot, but he owns a private jet that brings him to PAKT, and he his huge boat is in the harbour. I've been to his "hideaway" of few times. He gets Frenchie to prepare him some special meals when he brings a 'friend' over to spend a few days", he explained while laughing out loud.

***

Hank's head was deep inside the engine of THE Beaver when Misty walked in the hangar. Leaning on the non-functioning Coke machine and wondering if Hank would be able to work his usual magic on her dad's old plane, she was contemplating how to approach her old friend.

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"So, will it ever fly again?", she said to break the silence. Hank looked up, and knew right away she had something on her mind. "I told you it will. I've basically rebuilt the entire engine. Got some parts arriving next week, and then we are all set. I want to get it done before the business picks up in the spring."

"We need to talk Hank. I know you don't agree with it, but you'll have to get over the fact that Buck is the new chief pilot. Damn, he's been here for just a day and I already feel you want to rip the guy's head off!"

The old mechanic rose slowly, but avoided the stare of his boss. "Why Misty? Just tell me why? Just from the top of my head, I can think of at least 20 guys around here who would've been great for it. And that's not even counting Junior. Last thing we need here is a city slicker!"

"You know better than that. We have a good business now. I am making good money… WE are making good money. Any bush pilot can do the routine stuff, but we need something more for the Fly'n Dine. People skills have never hurt anyone."

Hank knew better than to lose his cool with Misty. But then again, he just could not get over her latest business decision. "Why all the hush then? All we know is his name, and that he arrived here like a knight on a white horse ferrying a Scout." Good point thought Misty. "That's up to him to discuss. Maybe if you actually took a few seconds to at least say "hi" to him!"

Sensing the discussion would go nowhere, Misty decide to give it a rest, for now. "Just give the guy a break Hank. He's here to stay."

"Whatever you say. Anyways, I have some work to do." And on that, Hank's head plunged back to its favourite place: the inside of a plane engine.

***

The Maule had just reached the junction point of the south and west arm of the Sound Arm when Junior pointed to the northwest. "Head for that mountain. We'll follow Rock Creek to reach Polk Inlet. There's a nice place there, called Goose Bay Cabins. It's owned by my uncle and aunt. It's dead quiet in the winter, but they live there year round."

"You want to go say "hi" to them? I would not mind trying a tight landing."

"Sure. Aunt Mary will be happy to see me!"

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They were still flying pretty high when Junior pointed ahead. "You see that smoke rising over there? It's there place. You might want to start descending. Don't worry, the bay is pretty deep and there's no hidden rock."

"Just sit tight. It's time to find out what this Maule can REALLY do!"

Junior obeyed without a word, but admired how Buck was handling the plane. Descending at a steep rate, Buck banked to his right while extending the flaps. The plane took a sudden drop while he kept it lined-up with the dock that was approaching quickly. Junior was holding on tight, and obviously enjoying himself. Buck touched the water a few hundreds feet in front of the dock and manoeuvred the plane to the moorings.

At the same time, a small man ran out of the main building, shaking his head and waving his hands. "What the hell was that? You want to kill yourself?!... Junior? Is that you? Did you just do that hot shot landing?"

"Hi Uncle Bob! That's Buck Wilson. He's the new chief pilot at Misty's."

"You won't stay there long if you always fly like that! Hank is gonna kill you!"

Hank… him again!

"Relax Uncle Bob! I can tell you this guy is one heck of a pilot. He reminds me of you!"

And on that note, Junior launched in a long explanation of the exploits of his uncle; a retired Navy pilot and legendary bush pilot now grounded because of his ever deteriorating vision.

Buck could see that the old man was not too comfortable with all the compliments.

"This is a nice place you have here sir", Buck said, interrupting the monologue.

"We've been here for more than 20 years. We're not as big as all those new places that are opening up all over the area for the tourists, but we

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have some regular patrons that come back every year. As long as the fishing stays good, people will come. It's that simple!!" Since Uncle Bob had been outside doing some maintenance on his truck, the trio sat on the front porch of the main cabin.

After 30 minutes of talking and yet a few other cups of coffee, Buck and Junior told Uncle Bob they had to head back to Misty's.

Walking towards the dock, Buck noticed that the clouds were slowly starting to come in from the north. "Yup, time to leave Junior. I had a feeling the weather could not stay this nice for long." They said goodbye to Uncle Bob, and promised to come back for some home cooking when Aunt Mary would be back from visiting her sister in Vancouver.

"We are just a few minutes from Misty's anyways Buck. We won't catch any of the crap that's rollin' in."

For yet another time today, they paddled a bit to line-up the Maule before starting the engines. "Time to head back home. Ms. Misty is probably gettin' nervous that we have been gone that long", noted Junior.

"Really? She doesn't seem to be the 'nervous' type to me."

"You'd be surprised! Once you become part of her 'family', she can get pretty maternal! But by the way she was looking at you this morning; maternal might not be the good word!!"

Buck wisely decided not to comment on that, and instead started to plan his take-off while looking at Junior's topo map. "Winds are pretty calm, I guess we can just fly due north across Kasaan Bay and then to Misty's."

"Yup. The only major elevation is Kasaan Mountain, but we'll fly west of there. We'll radio in once we're 10 miles out to check the weather."

So for the 4th time today, Buck pushed in the throttles and the Maule quickly lifted off the water. They climbed to 2500' and, once again, Junior broke the silence.

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"I am really sorry about this morning. It's just that there have been a lot of things going on recently around here…"

"I already told you to forget about it! I'll handle the 'situation' when the time comes. I'm not here to make enemies… but to fly and earn a decent living. Like I told you: like or not, I'm here to stay!"

Thorne Bay was already in view, so the conversation ended on that. Junior was already on the Unicomm and talking to Ms. Misty. "Winds are calm… so far. There's some pretty bad stuff coming in so land on 12 and roll her in the hangar."

"Roger that. Winds calm, land on runway 12."

In just a few minutes, the Maule was flying above Misty's Place and Buck gave it a good visual inspection. All seemed in order, so he started a slow descent while turning base and lowering the flaps.

"Traffic Motel Motel One, this is Maule November 126 Motel Golf on final, runway 12."

As the Maule slammed hard on the grass runway, Junior wondered if Buck decided to land a bit "hard" just to piss off Hank, who was watching from his hangar. He waved at them and guided them towards it. A few minutes later, Buck and Junior were stepping down the plane, both with a big smile.

Jumping out of the airplane, Buck gave a sarcastic wink to Hank and then started walking

towards the lounge, while Junior approached his mentor to debrief him.

"Well, what happened? He sure doesn't look rattled to me!"

"We need to talk boss. We are dealing with one cool jock here…"

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TO BE CONTINUED….

And we wish it could be continued, but "That's all there is Folks!"