Heads in the Clouds — Reflections of a Southeast Alaska Bush Pilot

"Honoring the Old Birds, the Open Skies, and the Spirit of Alaska's Bush Pilots"

Going through some of my old flying stories recently, I found myself pausing — struck by a few simple, yet profound thoughts.

The aircraft I primarily flew here in beautiful Southeast Alaska weren’t sleek new machines fresh off an assembly line. They were living, breathing pieces of aviation history — built in the 1950s — and to this day, they remain among the most iconic aircraft ever designed for bush flying.

The de Havilland Beaver, the de Havilland Otter, and the "new" aircraft of the bunch — the Cessna 185F — all floatplanes, all VFR aircraft, all designed to dance with the wild, unpredictable elements of Alaska.

Truth be told, I never gave much thought to when these beautiful machines were built. Back then, I only cared about the fact that I got to fly them — that I had the incredible privilege of exploring the skies and waters of the most beautiful part of the country, maybe even the world.

Here in Southeast Alaska, many of us share this same story. We grew up around aircraft — floatplanes tucked into quiet coves, resting on glassy water, the steady hum of radial engines echoing off the mountains. It gets in your blood. We tend to live with our heads in the clouds, and more often than not, our hearts are up there too.

The Alaskan bush pilot is truly a different breed of aviator. It takes grit, respect for the weather, respect for the machine, and more than a little love for the unknown. It's not just a job — it's a lifestyle, a brotherhood, a community woven together by shared experiences, long days, unpredictable skies, and a deep-rooted love for this place we call home.

I am beyond grateful to be part of that community — to those who encouraged me, taught me, challenged me, and shared the adventure. Thank you.

Here's to keeping our heads in the clouds, and our hearts firmly rooted in Alaska.