OffAirport by KAVU
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OffAirport

By: Jeff Shapiro - Additional Photos: Alex McCullouch

KAVU
By KAVU

Every year since I've been lucky enough to fly the KAVU Cub, I've tried to meet my good friend Alex in the back country. It's our annual opportunity to fly our bush planes into the mountains.... to get away from airports and pavement, and all the agenda of "normal life".

Alex and I met over 20 years ago on a hang gliding trip, and our obvious shared stoke for aviation over those decades developed into a super solid friendship that's now filled by some pretty lucky memories. If a washing machine had wings, Alex could fly it and he went far out of his way to help me on my path toward General Aviation. Whenever there's an opportunity to meet up for some KAVU days "on the wing" with Alex somewhere..... I'm in, 100%.

So, once again last week.... I woke up early and flew across the Coast Range, past the iconic Cascade Volcano's and pointed the Cub toward the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness. At the same time, Alex flew up from the Front Range in Colorado with the plan being to converge in the Salmon River drainage at a buddy's cabin airstrip.

Basically, we were psyched for some peace and airtime.

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Flying toward the mountains, I had a bit of a stiff headwind. It was slower going that I'd hoped for and by the time I flew out of the flats of eastern Oregon into Idaho's backcountry, the wind was cranking.... and the sun was HOT.

Thermals were ripping and it was 20, gusting 30 at ridge-top height, which made for some "sporty" conditions in the canyons and on the ground. I took my time and assessed. With multiple ways out, I decided that landing would be a safe option to attempt. So, I shot an approach and although it was a handful, I landed safely and smoothly on the green grass oasis that's my good friend Jeff's cabin strip.

About 2 hours later, Alex arrived overhead and I stood out on the runway with a radio, calling winds for him. It was now his turn to navigate through the active afternoon conditions. I'll admit, it felt good to both be on the ground safe with nothing but good times ahead. Jeff had flown home early that morning to deal with some work obligations, but our friend Mike remained behind and greeted us with a huge smile and a good dog.

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Tis the Season for Fire

Unfortunately that same day, a small forest fire approximately 10 miles to our north was fanned by the strong winds and quickly blew up into a monster. We watched overhead as the Forest Service helicopters worked hard to get water to the flames as it shifted up the drainage and jumped the river.

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After a mellow night under the stars, we woke up early to go flying. Luckily, the evening katabatic winds had blown the thick smoke opposite from where we were going, so with the intention to "keep an eye on it", we took off and flew in close formation to over 8000 feet, crossing into the Big Creek drainage with hopes to cruise to Lower Loon airstrip.

Lower Loon has a pretty epic hot spring only a short hike from the strip, and a spot to perhaps get another cup of coffee... which is always a welcome bonus.

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The smoke was beautiful as we crested the inversion and flew over the lacey mist accentuating the rugged nature of these craggy mountains. In our happy place, we flew down the drainage toward Lower Loon, but the longer-than-anticipated flight into the mountains the day before and a longer than normal climb-out had me lower on fuel than I would have liked.

So, we changed the plan and diverted to Cabin Creek, which is a strip that we'd both been into before, and one that creates a pretty backdrop for a shady hike on a sunny morning.

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Unfortunately, after landing and enjoying the sounds from the creek and the birds... we came upon a group of fisherman who were waiting for a ride out after a successful fishing adventure via mule train. I say "unfortunately" because they informed us of the terrible news that a plane had crashed just above the strip, on Cabin Creek, the previous day.

Apparently, a pilot and passenger had tried to land at about the same time we'd landed at Jeff's the day before (during the windiest and most convective part of the day), and had lost control in the difficult conditions. Cabin Creek is a one-way strip with no go-around options after flying past a certain point. The news was terrible, sad, unnerving and a reminder to remain focused and professional in this unforgiving environment. Our hearts go out to the families of the pilot and his passenger, and although tragic, we tried to also remember to be grateful for this day and each and every chance to live such lucky lives.

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Not wanting to push the conditions, we loaded up after our hike and took back off to see how the smoke was drifting and potentially effecting our visibility in the canyons. We could tell it was getting thicker by the minute so, we dropped back into the confluence between the South fork and the main Salmon rivers to land while we still had VFR conditions.

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These split photos were taken 18 hours apart

Trapped by thick smoke and next to zero visibility after landing, we decided we'd wait for the late afternoon's katabatic winds to clear the canyons by walking the river to look for trout.

I love to fly fish (it always reminds me of good memories with my Dad), and Mike took us to some of his favorite spots. Crystal clear water over polished rock, slow moving eddy lines and bugs on the surface made life "just about perfect". Sitting on a rock while tying a fresh fly on my line, I looked around and thought... there was no place I'd rather have been in that moment.

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With the fire forecast to continue growing, we woke up the next morning and packed our tents. It seemed smart to get on the wing early enough to fly out under the thickening smoke. It was my 48th birthday and our plan was to fly out of the mountains to one of the coolest, small towns in Oregon for breakfast before I headed west toward the coast.... and Alex, back toward his home in Colorado.

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Clear of the smokey canyons, the flight over ended up being basically perfect. Alex flew so close at times, I thought he was going to get in my plane (which is pretty normal, actually;-).

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Joseph, Oregon is a town known for it's bronze artists and clear, deep-water lake. Apparently, there's a gondola that takes tourists (and paraglider pilots) up one of the mountains overlooking the lake. I'm already looking forward to going back!

Jeff flew in from Washington after being turned back by the smoke while trying to get to his cabin. He had tried to fly in just after we'd left, but it was simply too thick for him to even see the ground... We were definitely lucky we'd been able to escape, and grateful that he was now able to meet us for breakfast on my birthday;-)

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After eating and saying goodby to those guys, I got back in the KAVU Cub and pointed it west. Unfortunately, I only got about an hour out when I noticed decreasing oil pressure. Knowing what that meant... I picked a safe field in the hill country to put 'er down in a rolling, grassy field to get some oil in my engine. That's the beauty of the Cub... if need be, you can land safely just about anywhere! Although what I had with me in the plane helped, I wanted to get at least one more full quart in the engine, and perhaps more (just in case), so I diverted to the small rural airport in Lexington.

By the time I got some oil from a super generous local pilot, it was 96 degrees F and blowing quite hard. So, I hung out in their air conditioned "pilot's lounge" and made myself a perfect birthday dinner. Things don't always turn out as we plan, but with a good attitude and a little perspective, everywhere is perfect if you look from the right angle;-)

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Early the next morning, I got up and had an amazing sunrise flight over the Cascades. Cruising low over the Coast Range with the Pacific Ocean in site, I thanked my little airplane for keeping me safe and for yet another, epic, KAVU adventure!!

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Jeff Shapiro

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KAVU is an aviation acronym for “clear above visibility unlimited,” when there isn’t a cloud in the sky and you can see to the horizon. That limitless feeling is our guiding philosophy. It means treating every day like it’s special, and then getting out and doing whatever brings on the perma-grin. That’s KAVU.
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