Talkeetna Revisited

Day 13, part 2: Talkeeta

The remainder of the flight into Talkeetna was completely uneventful. No fog, no howling wind at Wasilla. Denali was still obscured by cloud, and the tour operators were still doing frequent turbine-Otter-on-skis departures as they had been on my first visit.

Wait -- Talkeetna. Again? I decided last week it was worth coming here with my wife. There are a precious few towns oriented to tourism that make me want to return for a second trip, but Talkeetna had some sort of magnetic pull associated with it. Some of it had to do with the airplanes and bush operators, some with the quirky things I saw in town, and without a doubt some probably had to do with the aviation history forged by the likes of the late Don Sheldon, legendary bush pilot based on Talkeetna whose business continues on in his name.

We arrived in the early evening hours, around 6pm, again not knowing where we'd stay. I saw a sign advertising a hostel not far from the airport and a quick walk in that direction and gaze from the muddy dirt road suggested that no, we'd spring for a hotel or find a place to camp the night. On the way into town from the airport road, I made the fortunate mistake of  looking in the direction of a warehouse with an open door. A friendly man with a hearty beard waved hello, and motioned us inside. You see, all you have to do to get Jerry's attention is to look his way.

Jerry, retired from the military aircraft industry in southern California came to Talkeetna to teach kids how to work on airplanes. Using donated airframes, tooling, parts, and monetary donations for supplies, Talkeetna Build a Plane gives high school aged kids an alternative to more traditional woodshop or auto repair classes. Various projects were under way, including skin and bulkhead work on a wrecked Cherokee Six fuselage that the prior owner had donated. Students get shown the ropes using scraps, and when their workmanship is solid are given a shot at working on the actual airplane projects themselves. Their work time is logged in an AMT logbook and I would imagine counts toward A&P certification if they are so inclined. Motivation in the form of flying lessons was part of the deal as well.

One thing that struck me as Jerry showed us all of this stuff, without us asking, and never even suggested that we give him or his organization a dime. I'm the type of person that gets turned off when solicited for donations, and his attitude of pride of the kids' accomplishments convinced me that their organization was worth donating to, something I did after returning home.

After parting ways with Jerry and picking up his recommendations for food and lodging we walked to town. The Roadhouse was full, no room at the inn, and the dining hall packed, but a few doors back was the West Rib Pub, which my formation-flying tour-guides had pointed out the week before. When we walked in, who did we see? Jerry again. After a brief chat I was introduced to another notable bush pilot, who ran Alaska Floats & Skis. We talked flying a bit, and what it takes to find a flying job in Alaska, for those so-inclined.

Some lucky networking completed, we sat down for a dinner of Caribou burgers and beer. I'd never seen a pub with a limit on how many beers someone could order right on the menu, but the 9% alc. Glacier Ice Axe Ale had a two-pint maximum. If you know me you'll know that I'm not a heavy drinker, but I did have a pint, and it did have a notable effect. We settled on an expensive -- but very nice -- motel down at the end of town and called it a night.

What a day. Some trips defined by just a few really outstanding days and this has been one, along with flying formation here with my Mooney pal several days ago, and the Wrangell-St. Elias overflight. Its setting in that this trip is one of the most rewarding that I've done. I'm eternally grateful for the opportunity to have flown here and to see the majesty of our planet.