After my de-brief and new signatures in my logbook, I took off from Idaho Falls for McCall (KMYL), Idaho. I had arranged to meet my friend Dave at McCall. Dave was flying up from Phoenix Arizona, and we would rendezvous at McCall before heading into the mountains for a few days of camping.
I was about an hour late when I landed at McCall. I taxied to the self-serve pumps, but there was no sign of Dave. I checked with the FBO, but they assured me that they had not seen a Piper Dakota nor a Cessna 206 arrive from Arizona that morning. They suggested that my friends had probably stopped somewhere for lunch en-route.
While I was standing beside the Husky, Tim Clifford walked over to introduce himself. Tim is a Husky owner from Florida. He had flown up to Idaho to take mountain flying lessons. Tim introduced me to Lori McNichol, who runs the Mountain Flying School at McCall. The school is housed in a log cabin right on the ramp at McCall. The Mountain Flying School is one of several flying schools that aim their curriculum at pilots who are preparing to fly into mountain or back-country strips such as those in Idaho.
Lori described how pilots get into situations that they are not prepared for when flying in the mountains and canyons. She explained how she flies with each pilot in his own aircraft, or one of the Super Cubs available through the school. The program is extremely popular, the courses are normally sold out at least six months in advance and many pilots come back for recurrent or advanced training. I felt that a mountain flying program would be a sensible and worthwhile investment before my next adventure.
C-GTHY at the Mountain Flying School (background) McCall Idaho
I was sitting in front of the school when Dave taxied in. He knew he had found me when he saw a bright yellow airplane with a funny registration. He and Darryl had stopped in King City, Nevada for some cheap fuel and a free lunch. A casino with it’s own airstrip can be a real bargain if you don’t stay to gamble.
We walked across the road to buy groceries. The stores in McCall sell everything from baked beans to beer and camping gear. This would be a guys-only camping trip, so we bought everything that we needed, which was mostly canned beans and beer.
We loaded up Dave’s Dakota. He had removed the back seats and left them in his hangar to leave lots of room. Dave gave me a briefing on the approach into Johnson Creek, told me to follow him, and we took off in our separate aircraft. Dave is a retired Naval Aviator, a former instructor, currently a South-West Airlines pilot and he has a gazillion flight hours.
I was able to follow Dave’s Dakota until we were overhead Johnson Creek. The strip is relatively long and wide for a mountain strip, but the approach that Dave preferred was to descend over the town of Yellow Pine, downriver from Johnson Creek, and follow the right side of the river upstream to the airstrip.
Following the River to the Airstrip at Johnson Creek
This is not a straight line, Dave warned me that I would not see the strip until short final and that I would have to commit to landing or go-around at that point. Dave’s friend Darryl was on the ground, and described the conditions as “easy, winds calm, no problems”. Darryl is also a South West airline pilot, with a ton of experience in the mountains and a wicked sense of humour.
Dave landed and taxied clear, then I flew over Yellow Pine and descended into the river canyon. I seemed awfully close to the trees, and my ground speed seemed very high. As I rounded the last corner, I was thinking I was low but fast.
Final at Johnson Creek
Actually, I was actually both much higher and faster than I thought I was. I had the throttle at idle, the prop at fine pitch, the flaps out full, and I was looking for an anchor to throw out. A Husky absolutely refuses to land gracefully if too fast on final. I glided on, far past the point where Dave and Darryl assumed I would touch down. Finally, somewhere near the second half of the runway, she settled onto the grass and rolled to a stop. From flying to stopped on the grass only took 200 feet, but I was well past the midway point of the runway when I touched down. I looked at the windsock. There was a seven-knot tailwind at the North end of the field when I landed, and the wind down the canyon took me along for the ride. Why didn’t I notice that when I overflew the field? There were so many things to look for, the conditions that Darryl assumed were benign were obviously quite challenging for me.
Short Final - Come Around the Last Corner, Slow Flight and Configured to Land
The Gang Tied Down at Johnson Creek - Stinson, Husky, Piper Dakota, Cessna T206
Day Five: Departed KIDA Idaho Falls; Fuel at KMYL McCall Idaho; Arrived 3U2 Johnson Creek Idaho
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