Idaho backcountry adventure….

Yesterday I was out and about in my vintage car, and after a charity car show was cancelled, I decided on the spur of the moment to check in with some friends at the airport. Spring is finally here so many of the aircraft are getting used a lot more often. I pull up at a friend’s hangar and his Cessna 185 Skywagon is out along with his Super Cub. He and his son are planning a short trip to the remote Magee airstrip in northern Idaho. Another Super Cub will be going along as will another friend in his 1956 Cessna 182. Most of the seats are already taken, but the 182 owner has an empty plane and asks if I’d like to come along. Around here, the Idaho backcountry strips are almost mythical, with pilots flying in from all over the country to enjoy. Adding to their allure, they’re challenging to get in and out of and a lot of guys who wear suits during the week like to become bush pilots on the weekends. Nearly all are on public land (US Forest Service) and are maintained by the state of Idaho and local pilots associations. Some are very bare, but others like Magee have an outhouse and tie down chains. Others are near villages or full service resorts. I know from my well-worn copy of Fly Idaho (the bible for those interested in doing such things) that Magee is one of the better maintained strips so the nosewheel-equipped 182 shouldn’t have a problem. Besides with two people on board, its 230 hp will give us plently of power. Being airplane-less, I haven’t explored many of the strips myself, and I was surprised that this one was only 25 minutes from our local field. We take off after the first Super Cub, but soon pass it thanks to the 182s nearly 150 mph ground speed (there was a bit of a tailwind). We skirt the resort city of Coeur d’Alene and are soon over the mountains at 6000 feet. A good pilot always anticipates trouble so I keep an eye for areas recently logged, pastures or power line rights of way. It’s strange to be flying with mountain peaks on either side, and occasionally the GPS warns us with its “Terrain ahead, pull up” message. but since the weather’s is excellent, its not needed.

A few minutes later we crest a ridge and McGee slides into view. Recent rains have made the first portion of the 2200 foot long strip wet, so we touch down about 30 percent down the runway. The surface surprisingly is smooth and the 182 has no trouble during out roll out and taxi. We park the plane and are soon joined by the others, the Super Cubs and 185 both making short work of the short strip. A few minutes later, we hear the drone of a radial, another friend decided at the spur of the moment to join us, he’s bringing up the rear in his nicely restored Cessna 195. For those of you who don’t know, a 195 is a postwar giant metal tail-dragger powered by a radial. Much larger than a 170, it has room for 4-5 and a broad cantilever wing free of struts.

Once we’re all down, we explore the area, walking the length of the strip and wander to the adjacent stream. At the edge of the airstrip, there are three well maintained log cabins once used by the Forest Service who once used McGee as a base. They left in 1973, and the cabins are now maintained as a historic site. Another cabin is maintained by a snow mobile group and used for winter campouts. It’s always unlocked and it features a wood stove in the sparsely furnished main room with plenty of room for sleeping bags. Someone maintains a ready supply of firewood. It’s nice to note that there is no litter or vandalism.

A group of fisherman are nearby with their Ford Explorer, and later, a locally-based FedEx pilot stops by on his motorbike. He says he trailered it to the trailhead for a day of adventure. He’s impressed by our five airplane fleet and gets a invitation to stop by and see the collection of antiques owned by the various pilots in our group.

There isn’t a sound to be heard, and a bald eagle can been seen looking for his lunch. It really is an ideal spot. I’m told you can drive there, but it’s 43 miles off the motorway and the last 10 miles are on a bad gravel road. It’s a great place to get way from it all.

The guide book warns that animals do damage runways, and upon examination, I do find plenty of rodent (gopher?) holes. Also, the ground is littered with elk droppings. They’re similar to, but much larger than the deer droppings I find in my yard near the apple trees. Basically, they look just like Maltesers.

Addison, the group leader and the pilot of the 185, tells me that years ago his young son (who is now flying the Super Cub and a very experienced tail wheel pilot and antique aircraft restorer) happened across a sleeping bear nearby.

As a joke, Addison breaks out his small camp stove, fry pan and can of SPAM. It seems he hates the stuff, but he promised someone of picture of him roughing it in the wilderness. . He offers a slice of “meat product” to each of us, and not knowing if I’ll ever have the chance to partake in the delicacy again in such rustic surroundings, I make a seat on the right wheel of the 185 and enjoy lunch. Certainly, it’s the right meal for the surroundings.

When it’s time to leave, the 182 owner asks if I wouldn’t mind flying in the 195. He lives at a residential airpark, and can fly straight home. Since the 195 owner also came solo, there is plenty of room for me in the big Cessna’s leather-lined cabin. Having never flown in a 195, I’m happy with the switch. The pilots get together and discuss whether a north or south departure would be best. There is no wind on the strip, so either seems fine until the most experienced pilot reminds us to look at the trees on top of the surrounding peaks. There is wind up there, so a southerly departure is required..

It’s fun to see the Super Cubs get off in incredibly short distances, likewise the 182 uses only a third of the strip. Finally it’s our turn and the radial shakes to life and we (somewhat wallowingly) back-taxis along the runway before turning to the south and beginning our take off rum. With the Cessna’s generous flaps, we’re off in a short distance and carefully fly up the valley until we have the altitude to break out over the hills.

Once we’re on our way, the pilot hands me the controls. It has an “Y” control column, different from any other Cessna I’ve flown. The plane is very stable (even with some mild turbulence over the mountains) and it’s no trouble to maintain heading and altitude. I give a bit of right rudder to keep the ball centered. He asks when the last time I’ve flown and I have to admit it’s been years (aside from a few minutes steering a friend’s Beech Staggerwing). He compliments my light handling of the controls, (something I learned in my helicopter flying days) so I’m very proud of myself. It was a lot of fun. Soon we leave the mountains behind and the Spokane river valley comes into view.

An unplanned stop at the airport led to a trip to a spot I’d long heard about but never expected to visit, and was capped by flying a type I’d never even flown in before.

Yes, a pretty good day. Here’s a link to an Air Britain shot of the 195 in question: http://www.abpic.co.uk/photo/1356037/ And please note the photo of the airstrip is from the aforementioned book Fly Idaho. It features not only photos and drawing of the 40+ backcountry strips in Idaho (an area about the size of England) but an interesting history section on each with tales of pioneers, Indians, miners, bandits, ladies of easy virtue, and the rest of the people who forged a state out of the wilderness not long ago.

Even if you never plan of flying the backcountry, Fly Idaho (and its companion volumes on Montana and Utah) is great fun to read.