Day 4 on our Journey from Torrance California to Alaska in a Robinson R22 20 May 2010

We awoke to a grey, cloudy, and rainy day with low ceilings. Definite marginal visual flight rules (MVFR) weather. The system we could see off in the distance to the north as we approached Fort St. John the night before had definitely moved in. We were up by 6am. I took a quick shower to wake up and then we went to eat the continental breakfast provided by the hotel. The continental breakfast provided by this hotel the Lakeview Inn in Fort Saint John was mediocre. I see Jon and Floyd are already up and on the computer looking at the weather in the lobby. Jon is also taking care of eAPIS in preparation for their arrival back into the USA via Northway, Alaska. In hind sight I should have been doing the same thing, but I chose to wait until we got to Whitehorse in the Yukon. The good news is that we see the weather hasn't completely marooned us; it’s definitely MVFR but looks doable. We check out, and all four of us catch a taxi back to the airport. It feels like winter again, cold, grey and wet. We put our order in for Avgas 100LL and Jon and Floyd put their order in for jet fuel for the MD 500 from Shell Aviation. They said they would handle Jon and Floyd first with the jet fuel. I went to the rest room to use the bathroom one last time before we jumped in and flew off. When I come out they are refueling our helicopter. Oh no! We don't want jet fuel in our helicopter. I ran across the ramp as fast as I could to the fuel truck refueling our helicopter. It's the Avgas truck; the guy could see I was panicked for a second there. He told me he couldn't get the jet fuel truck started so he decided to refuel us first. Whew! I just got my exercise for the morning and my blood pumping. If I wasn't awake before the scare I'm definitely awake now. There were a couple of fueling attendants along the way that asked me if the helicopter took avgas or jet fuel and one of them assumed it took jet fuel. They had never seen a Robinson R22. It was the little misunderstandings like this, that took me by surprise. I assumed every fuel attendant would know what kind of gas the R22 uses. The one thing we did after each refueling was test the fuel for water and sediment religiously and look for the color blue which told me it was 100LL avgas. We didn't know anything about these fuel stops so we didn't take any chances. It's something we are taught during training, always check fuel first thing in the morning and after each refueling. With our preflight done, fuel topped off, flight plan filed, and our gear stowed below the seats we are ready to depart for Fort Nelson. I strap the SPOT on my ankle, turn it on and enable the tracking feature. I crank up and get the rotor up to speed. We let Fort St. John Radio know we are departing to the north and ask them to activate our flight plan. They ask our cruising altitude. They know it's MVFR weather and want to make sure we stay out of the clouds. I tell them 3000 feet. Jon and Floyd lift off shortly after us in the MD500. We decide to head direct to Fort Nelson. The fueling points in Canada are getting further apart and we want to make sure we have enough fuel to make it. But we have a dilemma, the cloud ceilings are low, can we make it over the mountains? Following the road allows us to stay lower in the valley and out of the clouds, but we may not have enough fuel for this route. We calculate looking at the maps that if the ceilings get too low we have a way out to the west through several valleys and intercept the road, Highway 97. As long as we can see over each pass as we proceed north we'll keep heading straight to Fort Nelson. We are off and heading due north. At first the ceilings are pretty low forcing us lower to the ground for some distance, scud running is the aviation term for this. For awhile we were being forced to within a few hundred feet of the terrain. Some parts of this weather system had very heavy, low lying clouds that we had to skirt around. In this area there are several very high antennas lurking about that we have to look out for. I slow it up to give us a little more time to see and avoid these antennas. Our visibility is about 3 to 4 miles with light rain and we are within a few degrees of freezing temperatures. We are within weather minimums, but it's just that, bare minimums. We press on in these conditions for about an hour, then the clouds starts lifting a little. Which is good because we see mountains ahead. The temperature is close to freezing. Not good with all the mist and moisture around us. Yes, our situation is a little dicey but there are plenty of fields around to land in if things get worse. We keep heading north staying just below the clouds and watching for antennas. As we near the mountains we notice the clouds lifting with the terrain giving us just enough clearance to make it through the passes. The tops of the mountains are obscured, but we calculate it's doable. Again there are valleys to our left (west) giving us a way out to the highway. As we climb to head over the passes we also pick up a tail wind that's helping us right along. The way I was taught to fly the R22 is hold 21 inches on the manifold pressure (MP) and very my speed to gain and lose altitude giving us the best range and fuel consumption. I slowly climb and descend as needed to clear terrain with airspeed. Things are looking better; we've been able to clear the saddles and ridge lines between the peaks as we head north. The tailwind is helping us out, but it's bumpy. The ceiling has lifted some more and it appears we are out of the worst of the weather. We make it over a couple more mountain ridges and saddles and eventually we see ahead in the distance towards the lower areas where Fort Nelson is located. We are constantly gauging the distance and time via the GPS and the amount of fuel we have left. It's looking good with the tail wind we have. About 3/4 of the way to Fort Nelson we know we are going to make it. I also have to go pee when I spot a nice little river bank to land on, I tell Corey we need to land so I can get some relief. I welcome the opportunity to land and get out. I circle once then approach into the wind landing next to the river on a gravel bank. If there's one thing I hate it's flying with my legs crossed. I feel much better now with the pressure off. I get back into the running helicopter and put my headsets back on; Corey's been holding the controls, I take off into the wind following the river until I clear the trees and turn back north. After about 30 minutes we clear the last of the mountains and slowly start descending into Fort Nelson. It was hairy for awhile there but we luck out and were able to make a direct flight through the mountains into Fort Nelson. At ten miles out we get on the radio and call Fort Nelson Radio. The winds have lightened up a little but are still blowing. We come straight in and hook around into the wind and land on the ramp. We get on the unicom and call the fuel truck; dam that was a long leg, 2.6 hours on the hobbs. It's the long legs that kill me in the little R22. I'm finding if I can stop more often, and stretch and walk, I can handle the long days of flying a lot better. There are quite a few helicopters on the ramp; I'm wondering what they all are doing here. The only thing I can think of is all the natural gas fields in the area that might require helicopters. We saw endless right-of-way’s cut out of the woods with natural gas piping systems all through our flight from Fort St. John. There's something missing however, where are Jon and Floyd and the MD500? Did we actually beat them here? A few minutes later we hear a helicopter, it’s them. I smiled to myself; we actually beat the MD500 here to Fort Nelson. I didn't say anything and neither did Jon. It might be because they decided to follow the road and we flew direct through the mountains and picked up a nice little tail wind. I was impressed with the Robinson R22.

Fort Nelson

After refueling, walking around a bit to get the blood going, and taking a bathroom break we are ready to go. This time our destination is Watson Lake in the Yukon. I feel like we are making progress, we are almost into the Yukon Territory. It's still grey with a slight drizzle and cold, and it still feels like winter. I pick her up and we depart to the northwest direct to Watson Lake. We have been using the heater today for the first time, since it's new, we initially smell it burning off the newness. The R22's heater handles the extreme cold of Alaska quite nicely, however we won't fly when temps are below -10°F. This is a very long leg to Watson Lake from Fort Nelson; if the winds don't cooperate we'll have to land at a gas station and get some premium auto gas. The Lycoming engine can handle this but it'll run a little rough, and no more than 10 gallons or so, it's not something you want to do all the time, only in a pinch. We notice the cloud ceilings are lifting a little but are still fairly low. The mountains and terrain are a lot higher during this leg. We make it over a couple of passes but can't continue straight due to the low ceilings and the mountain passes being too high. We turn left (west) and follow the valley for a ways before it looks clear enough to go direct again to Watson Lake. We make it over the next mountain pass but then have to veer to the west again before we see another pass we can get over to the north. We play this game for about 30 minutes with the clouds. Then the ceiling starts to lift some more and we could finally head direct again towards Watson Lake. We gain a little altitude and start crossing mountain passes with no problems. Another plus is the winds are picking up from the south, very nice; we are moving out now at a pretty good clip. If this keeps up we'll have plenty of fuel. The ceilings and weather are starting to break up and we start seeing blue skies here and there. Things are looking good with a nice tail wind of 20 to 25 knots. So now we are able to fly direct to Watson Lake. It's weird but at this point in the trip I start to hear the same rhythm from the Lycoming engine and the rotors. When we started from Torrance the engine and rotors were just a cacophony of noise. But after a few days I notice a definite chorus that's playing over and over. It's the only thing to listen to. I brought my iPod Nano with lots of music and a chord to plug into the audio jack I thought the newly rebuilt R22 would provide; no such luck. They didn't touch the avionics. Our newer R22s have audio jacks. Oh well, I get to hear the music from the engine and rotors through my headsets. As we approach the Liard River area and see a small little landing strip I start to hear some crackling in my headset, someone is trying to talk but I can't quite hear them. As I pass the landing strip I hear "Jeff, where are you guys?" Hey that's Jon! "Hey Jon, we are just passing the Liard River landing strip and about 46 miles out from Watson Lake." Silence for awhile, "Jeff, you guys are way ahead of us, we are about 65 miles out from Watson Lake." I can't believe we are that far ahead of the MD500, but we are. We've been flying direct to Watson Lake the best we can considering the weather. They have been following the road, plus at our altitude we picked up nice tailwind, but it's turbulent. All of this put us way ahead of Jon and Floyd. I wasn't in a race with the MD500, but I was certainly amused at the thought of being first to Watson Lake in the Yukon. We finally land and park near the self service pumps. Dam these long legs are killing me today, but I'm on quite the adventure. We just did another 2.6 hours and I'm happy that we didn't have to stop at a gas station for auto gas. A couple of people have asked me how we would have gone about doing that? Pretty simple really, we would have landed as close as possible to the gas station in a field or parking lot clear of vehicles and keep a close look out for power lines. Remember it's a pretty remote area so a spot to land shouldn’t be too hard to find. We'd borrow a couple of 5 gallon gas cans and put fuel in the helicopter, pay the man, and say thank you very much and off we go. But we don't have to because the man upstairs is looking out for us with all these tail winds, pushing us right along. The sun is coming out and it's feeling a lot warmer again. After we are just about done refueling Jon and Floyd show up in the MD 500 about 15 minutes behind us. They park so close to us I'm worried my rotors won't clear their rotors when we start up, we spin our rotors to make sure they are clear. I'll have to be careful when I pick up. Now Floyd, the Apache driver, is starting to look impressed with our little R22. He comes over and starts looking the R22 over. I'm just happy to stand and stretch, that's two long runs in a row and we aren't done yet, we have one more leg and maybe one more after that. I haven't eaten much since breakfast so I scrounge around in my back pack for a little snack and find another peanut bar; I had thrown in few before we left Torrance. We'll have to wait until we get to Whitehorse before we can eat; there is nothing here but a little terminal building. It's about 2pm Canadian time. I've been sipping on water along the way from my trusty water bottle that I fill up at each fuel stop. We've been following Highway 97 for such a long ways more less that it's a mile stone when it turns into Highway 1 in the Yukon Territory. I'm enjoying the warmth of the sun but have to run inside the little terminal building to use the bathroom before our next run. When I come back out I look the helicopter over and check the fuel, everything looks good. We are ready for our next leg into Whitehorse. We crank up and get the rotors up to speed; Jon, you sure parked close to us with that MD500, he knows I like their machine. I pick up very carefully and immediately slide left and back. Whew! That was close; the last thing I want to hear is splintering rotor blades. I talk to Watson Lake Radio and tell them we are departing to the west, wow, more west then north now, and to please activate our flight plan. We are on our way once again.

Watson Lake

Things are looking better this leg weather wise; the sun is out now and we have a nice little tail wind although it's bumpy. We hit direct to on the GPS, enter the ID for Whitehorse (CYXY) and then enter. We are going to make a bee line straight to Whitehorse, west-north-west through the mountains. I love flying through the mountains when the weather is cooperating. I think back to the gold rush days when the miners were slogging through some of these very same mountains enduring hardships, all in an effort to get to the gold fields in the hopes of striking it rich. Now here we are flying through some of those very same mountains like eagles. Which brings up a good point about eagles, they are the only bird that won't move out of the way for us, we have to veer around them. All other birds will usually dive out of the way. The eagle is king of the skies. As we press on towards the mountains the winds are behind us pushing us right along. I've learned by now on our journey, that as long as we are flowing with the winds, a tail wind, as we approach the mountain passes we get a free lift up as the terrain rises. Imagine the winds as a river and we are flowing with the current as we climb up into the mountains. It's a big plus to work on the windward (upwind) side of a mountain or ridge line because of all the extra lift. There were a few times I was suddenly lifted up as I approached a saddle or ridge line at the rate of a 1000 feet per minute giving me a free ride up with very little extra power needed. This little trick worked for me several times with the tailwinds we were experiencing when they were at least 20 knots or more. There is a negative side to this; that same river current of wind swirls and flows down the mountain on the downwind (lee) side. You flow along with these currents more or less and try not to fight it. I think we were close to the Teslin Lake area when I cross a ridge line that drops off steeply into a valley in front of us. There was snow on the peaks all around us and along the ridge line we were crossing and very green down in the valley, it was a beautiful sunny day. We've just crossed the ridge line when suddenly we start to descend at a very high rate of speed; feels like a roller coaster that just topped out and on the way down. I take a quick glance at our VSI (vertical speed indicator) and it's reading something like 1200 FPM (feet per minute) descent rate. Luckily the valley is ahead of us that holds Teslin Lake, and we need to descend anyway because our destination, Whitehorse, is at the other end of the valley way out there in the distance. All we can do in this situation is go with the flow. The downdraft I'm in is a good example of why it's so dangerous on the downwind or lee side of a mountain. These down drafts can be very powerful and will over power any helicopter, or anything that flies very quickly. It's been nice having all these tail winds but the turbulence and the gusts all day long are wearing on me. My butt is really starting to hurt again. My wrists are hurting from fighting the gusting and turbulence of the last couple of days. I'm thinking hydraulics for the controls would really be nice to have right about now. The constant gusting from the tail winds forces me to push forward on the cyclic and pull up on the collective with each gust so I can't really relax my hands. We are about 20 minutes out from Whitehorse when I ask Corey to take the controls. I need a break! Note to self; invent hydraulics and comfortable seats for the little R22, become millionaire, then buy a nice turbine helicopter with hydraulics and comfortable seats for long trips. My turn to look at the maps and be the navigator while he flies the rest of the way into Whitehorse. I put my hands on the seats and lift myself up taking the pressure off my butt. It's been three long legs averaging 2.5 hours each today. I'm thankful when we finally land in Whitehorse at the transient parking so I can un-ass the helicopter.

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory

The airport’s windsock is a DC-3; It makes loud groaning noises as it rotates with the wind

The sun is out and it's nice and warm, something like 75 degrees, the complete opposite of the weather we had this morning in Fort St. John. Definitely T-shirt weather. We call for fuel on the unicom and wait around for the fuel truck enjoying the nice warm sun.  Wait a minute, where's Jon and Floyd and that cool MD500? They aren't here yet. We here a helicopter coming in, yep that sounds like a 500. Nope, it's not Jon and Floyd, it's a Prism MD500 with a round nose. The guy shuts down and gets out; I take the opportunity to go talk with him. He's from New Zealand, a Kiwi. He starts telling me what they do with the little R22 back in New Zealand. Besides mustering cattle, they hunt and sling load deer, and ag spray with the R22, which isn't completely legal because of where they have to mount the chemical tanks and sprayers on the skids . He finishes up by saying; "You don't want to know what else we use the R22 for." He's wrong, I do want to know. In any case these guys are crazy, watch this cattle mustering for yourself, you be the judge.

R22 Robinson Heli Mustering

The fuel truck finally shows up and tops us off. With full fuel tanks we are ready to go again. I check the oil and notice we are a quart low. I go ahead and add the forth of the five quarts of special mineral oil the factory has given us before we departed Torrance. You're supposed to use this special mineral oil the first fifty hours on the newly rebuilt Lycoming engine. Here comes Jon and Floyd on short approach. They land on the other side of the Prism MD500. Floyd and the Kiwi guy talk 500s for awhile comparing notes. The helicopters are all fueled up. We are starving so we start looking around for a place to eat and notice the terminal. We go inside to check it out, no luck, all the eateries are closed. Someone points across the street to the Airport Chalet a motel/restaurant. I ordered a burger deluxe and fries, the works, lettuce, tomato and onions. These burgers I've been ordering aren't fast food franchise burgers; these are good old fashioned homemade style burgers. I'm feeling a lot better now after eating. We start talking about the next leg of the trip which would take us into Alaska. The days are long at this point and it stays light until about midnight. Get-home-itis is setting in. It's about 6:00pm Canadian time, which gives us about 6 hours of daylight left. The wheels are turning; can we make it before dark? I'm privately dreading this thought, we've already put in a long day, but I flow with the idea of possibly making it home tonight. One thing in our way is US Customs at the border. I haven't filled out the eAPIS manifest yet either. I have their number in my cell phone so I give them a call. It used to be when crossing the border with helicopters you were allowed to land right at the border any time of day in the parking lot and clear US Customs. Tonight however I find out there's construction at the border station and they want all aviation traffic to clear US Customs at the Northway Station, and that it has to be between the hours of 7am to 4pm Alaskan time. Things have gotten serious since 911. They also told me if I didn't have the eAPIS manifest filled out before I got there we could be fined. It appears we aren't going anywhere tonight. The only computer I can find to fill out the eAPIS manifest is in the lobby, and it takes money, Canadian coins; the $1-dollar coin is called a "loonie," and the $2-dollar coin is called a "toonie." It appears the computer takes a loonie or a toonie every 10 minutes. I don't have time nor do I want to mess with converting US money into loonies and toonies. I decide instead when I get the chance to call Mary, my wife, and have her get on the computer for me. In the mean time we decide to stay right there and get a room for the night. It’s close, convenient, and within walking distance of the helicopter and we'll eat breakfast in the restaurant in the morning, which is good, I'm getting tired of eating continental breakfast. After checking into a room we walk back to the helicopters and grab our backpacks, lock the choppers and head back to the rooms. After taking a shower and settling in for the night I give Mary a call. I talk her through logging into my eAPIS account and filling out a manifest for our arrival back into the US via the Northway Station in Alaska. Thirty minutes later we get it all figured out and the manifest is ready to go. Good job babe, thanks, you saved the day! By now I'm wiped out and ready to hit the sack. I'm glad we didn't make a push for the border, in my mind it would have been dangerous pushing ourselves to the point of exhaustion. That's when mistakes are made and accidents happen. I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Hobbs schedule for the day:

Fort St. John Airport, BC, Canada (CYXJ) - Fort Nelson Airport, BC, Canada (CYYE) 2.6 hours

Fort Nelson Airport, BC, Canada (CYYE) - Watson Lake Airport, Yukon, Canada (CYQH) 2.6 hours

Watson Lake Airport, Yukon, Canada (CYQH) - Whitehorse Airport, Yukon, Canada (CYXY) 2.2 hours

Total 7.4 hours 560 NM's