Source: 2023 Q1 Beartracks, Pat Fagan
Four years ago, as a member of the Utah Back Country Pilot’s Association (UBCP), I was invited to participate in a new program they were going to undertake. The program was to be called Back Country Santa. A Navajo employee of a business in Salt Lake City was having a conversation with the owner and reminisced about a helicopter pilot that would fly to the reservation around Christmas time and deliver presents. This owner thought that was a cool idea and set out to solicit a massive amount of supplies for the Navajo Nation. As a member of the UBCP himself, it logically followed that aircraft should be employed to deliver the goods. The call was put out to members and I signed up as it sounded like fun. The plan was for everyone to pick up their loads at the hangar the business owner had at SLC airport. It’s an almost 4 hour flight to SLC for me which meant I would have to fly up the day before. Upon hearing that, the owner asked if I would like to park the airplane in his heated hangar for the night. This being mid December I readily agreed. I had no idea what company Smokey would be keeping but I was quite impressed. These were his dad’s personal transport while he flew a Kodiak. The next morning I was able to leave with my load while everyone else was arriving. We all delivered to Montezuma Creek which, prior to this event, was an abandoned, litter strewn stretch of dirt beside the highway. The tribe cleaned it up and graded it so it was suitable for most aircraft. I unloaded and headed for home before anyone else arrived which in hindsight was a shame as I heard there was a real carnival atmosphere with a huge outpouring of appreciation from the tribal members who turned out to witness the airlift. I really enjoyed the event so signed up to do it again the next year. They were going to refine things to allow those who didn’t want to fly to SLC for a load to pick up their packages at Blanding Utah. Anyone that didn’t want to land on dirt could deliver packages from SLC to Blanding. This was great for me as I could do the whole trip in one day. Unfortunately, I had to cancel at the last minute as weather would have allowed me to get there but I wouldn’t be able to get home. The following year was the Covid year, which really hit the Navajo Nation hard. Carol and I were already scheduled to take a cruise so I didn’t sign up but I understand they made two separate air lifts of badly needed supplies that year. I signed up again for 2022 and they had refined the program even further. Those who wanted to fly from SLC could but those that didn’t could pick up their loads at Monument Valley. Those that didn’t want to land in dirt could deliver to Kayenta or Polaca. Dirt flyers could deliver to Montezuma Creek or Navajo Mountain. They asked how much weight each pilot could haul and to what type of surface. They then assigned an initial destination and requested pilots return to Monument Valley for additional loads if able. My co-pilot neighbor Jason and I arrived as a box truck was being unloaded. All the boxes were the same size but of different weights depending on contents. Boxes were designated for elders, adolescents, and infants. Each box had its weight listed on it and they were color coded as to destination. They even gave us a box filled with stockings stuffed with goodies to be handed out to any children we met. We hauled an initial load of 12 boxes to Polaca where we were warmly received by Hopi tribal members. We hauled another 12 boxes to Montezuma Creek before heading to Blanding for fuel. We had enough time left to allow one more flight and when we arrived at Monument Valley they only had 14 remaining boxes to go to Montezuma Creek. The boxes were the lighter ones so weight wasn’t an issue but I wasn’t sure we could squeeze 14 in, but somehow we managed. My initial reaction hearing Monument Valley was to be the hub was “this is going to be a nightmare” as the airport is one way due to the massive cliff face that sits at the south end of the runway. Incredibly, it all went amazingly well and the logistical precision would have made any military planner proud. All told approximately 60 aircraft participated hauling 800 boxes that weighed in around 27,000 pounds. I can’t wait to participate again this year. You with me Jason?

Source: 2020 Q2 Beartracks, Pat Fagan
It’s interesting how one’s attitude can change over time. I suppose we shouldn’t fault politicians for flip-flopping, provided their change is sincere. But this isn’t about politics. This is about my change in attitude on what at first blush seemed to me to be a silly idea. Allow me to explain.
A couple of years ago I was involved in a Utah Back Country Pilots work party at Mexican Mountain in Utah. After the work was done we were all sitting in the shade doing what pilots do, telling stories. There was a gal flying a short wing Piper that had to be the most manic pilot I have ever encountered. She regaled us with tales of all the places she had been with her plane and lined out all the places she intended to fly in the upcoming year. She practically lived in that airplane.
She told about how she had landed at every airport in several states, and that some of those states actually had programs that rewarded people for doing so. At the time I felt like she must have some kind of an OCD problem but I enjoyed the hangar flying nonetheless.
Fast forward early this year, I was reading an issue of Sport Aviation and there was an article profiling a gal named Wendy who flies the heck out of a short wing Piper. As I read I remembered that hangar flying session and realized the article was about the very same person. In the article she mentioned that one of the states where she landed at every airport was North Dakota. She also said that for doing so she received “the nicest leather jacket I’ve ever bought”.
Now here’s where my change in attitude comes in. Carol and I moved from crazy California to saner Arizona almost four years ago. In that time I have been constantly busy developing the property and putting up buildings. It just so happened that my reading the Sport Aviation article coincided with me completing my last building project and feeling the deep-seated need for an adventure. Suddenly, flying to North Dakota and landing at every airport just to get a leather jacket seemed like the sanest thing in the world to do.
I mentioned this idea to Carol, who has tolerated many of my past crazy ideas (I want to build an airplane) and she had the expected response i.e. Why not just buy a jacket? But she humored me and agreed to let me go. Then one day I was flying with Scott Williamson and told him about what I was going to do and he went from “that’s crazy” to “I’d like to go too” faster than I expected. Scott then mentioned it to Kevin Deutscher, who was suddenly teleworking from home due to the Corona deal, and he eagerly agreed to go as well.
North Dakota’s program involves filling in a passport book with airport identifier stamps located at all 89 public use airports in the state. You are also required to visit their two aviation museums and take three courses through the FAA’s FAAST/Wings program. We requested and received in the mail our passports and I set out figuring out a course on a North Dakota only sectional that they provided. So we were all set, just needing two things before we could depart. One was for the museums to reopen from Corona virus, and other was for winter to loose its grip. The museums finally reopened the second week of May, but there was an endless stream of bad weather blocking our path across South Dakota.
We finally had a weather window that allowed us to depart on May 16th. That day we flew all the way to Custer, South Dakota where we caught up to the bad weather. The next morning we were up at dawn, looking at beautiful blue skies, excited to get our first stamp, then had to wait 2 hours for the sun to melt the frost off our wings.
We camped out in airport pilot lounges almost every night. Some were nothing more than an office and bathroom while others had freezers, microwaves and showers. The most luxurious one we visited was at Williston, with a sleeping room, recliner sofas, showers, the works. Unfortunately, Williston is a real airport so we weren’t allowed to over night there, but the staff was tremendously helpful and helped us bide our time until the rain moved on.
The coolest airport we went to had to be Wahpeton. Kevin was taking a nap on the grass (did I mention we landed on 2 or 3 dozen grass strips?) at Milnor when he noticed a crack forming in the tail post spring perch on Scott’s plane. The FBO operator at Milnor suggested Wahpeton as a place to get it fixed. Boy was he right. At Wahpeton they build fuselages for P51 Mustangs. The whole fuselage. They can fabricate every part on a Mustang. Unbelievable. Scott uses this massive shock absorber tail wheel and not only did they fix the crack, they reengineered how it attaches to the tail post. While they did that they gave us free range to explore the machine shop and the boneyard of projects.
The most memorable airport had to to be Kulm. Kulm is a beautiful grass strip adjacent to a lake. The pilot lounge had all the amenities, including a pizza oven and frozen pizza for purchase in the freezer. Immediately upon shut down we were greeted by Lorance. Like so many others we met at other airports, he was incredibly excited to see us. He talked constantly and we eventually wondered if he would ever quit. We finally broke free from him with the excuse we wanted to walk into town. As we were returning, he was leaving, but he turned around and followed us back. He even invited his brother to come out and meet us. It looked like it might be an all-nighter, but he finally said goodby and, after many false starts, left, promising to be back in the morning to see us off. We did our best to depart before Lorance’s return but he was too good for us. We finally insisted that we had to get going. We said our goodbyes and, it being a beautiful morning, Lorance said he was going to take his Champ up. We stopped in at Edgeley and then Gackle and, while enjoying the beauty of another grass strip surrounded by water, heard an airplane headed our way. Imagine our surprise and consternation when we realized it was a Champ, most likely with Lorance at the controls. There was no time to beat a hasty retreat but he didn’t attempt to land and merely waved as he went by.
I had no idea how much fun it would be doing this trip, but it far exceeded any expectation I might have had. The sheer joy of airport hopping, sightseeing, never having to climb above pattern altitude, and all those grass strips made the trip memorable. All the wonderful people we met, so enthusiastic to see us, offering us cars and hangars and what ever else they could provide, made the trip memorable. Our last airport was Bowman and we took the courtesy car to town for a wonderful breakfast. Were it not for lingering COVID concerns I believe Scott would have hugged every person in the restaurant, he was so happy. We chose to fly to Mexican Mountain in southern Utah to spend our last night. It didn’t occur to me until late that night that adding that to our trip was the perfect topper, as it was there that I first learned about North Dakota’s passport program from Wendy. The next morning we split up to head for our separate homes and Kevin made a statement that brought tears to my eyes when he said “Thanks for letting me come along and fulfill a dream I never knew I had.”

Source: 2014 Q4 Beartracks, Pat Fagan
Route 66, the “Mother Road,” “Kingman, Barstow, San Bernadino,” only not on this trip. This time we’ll visit Amboy, a forgotten town left to shrivel up and blow away in the wake of the bypass by the transcontinental Interstate 40.
Amboy was originally founded in 1858 by miners who extracted sodium chloride from the dry lakes south of town. Next to arrive was the railroad in 1882. By the late 1920s, the paving of Route 66 across California was completed. In 1938, the town was bought by Roy and Velma Crowl, who opened up a gas station. Roy took on a partner, Buster Burris, in 1940.
Located roughly midway between Barstow and Needles in the unforgiving Mojave Desert, the town flourished during the years after World War II. At its peak the town had a population of 700. Interstate 40, which bypassed the town by a wide margin, was completed in 1972. When the interstate opened, business in Amboy came to an immediate stand still.
The town was sold to two investors in 2000 but was repossessed by Bessie Burris, Buster’s widow and Roy and Velma’s daughter, in 2005. Later that year she resold the town to Albert Okura for $425,000 and his assurance that he would reopen the restaurant and motel. Mr. Okura owns a string of chicken restaurants in California and also owns the original McDonalds restaurant in San Bernardino, which he operates as a museum.
Route 66 began to see a resurgence of interest in the 1990s. Amboy has been used as a location for numerous movies, and these days sees somewhat regular traffic from history buffs and those interested in seeing a bit of scenery off the main artery. Currently the owner is trying to reopen the restaurant, but dealing with the regulations regarding the historic nature of the motel and restaurant has been an impediment to getting anything done. In January of 2008 they began selling gasoline again from the pump in front of Roy’s Motel and I was unable to resist the chance for a photo op of Smokey making a pit stop.
There is a dirt runway situated adjacent to Roy’s. At one time it was listed on the charts, but no longer. Though unmaintained, the runway is generally in good shape. The town’s caretaker has been known to cajole the road graders working on the highway to take an occasional swipe down the runway. There is no windsock. I landed on the runway and taxied to the pumps, but I was told landing on the road is a common option.
An interesting natural feature located just a few miles west of Amboy is Amboy Crater, an extinct volcanic cinder cone. The volcano’s last eruption is estimated to have been 6,000 years ago. The rim of the crater rises 250 feet above the surrounding lava fields. If you have the time, you can walk to the scenic overlook and hike inside the crater and around the rim.

From the overlook, a trail winds through the lava field to the base of the cone. A false trail leads up the northern slope, but a much easier route can be found by following the trail around to the cone’s western flank. There the side of the crater was blown out, providing a still steep, but much easier route to the lip. The round trip will take about 4 hours. Bring water and don’t attempt it in the summer.