A FRESH PERSPECTIVE OF WHEELING
A bush pilot-turned-off-road enthusiast adds new meaning to proper planning for added safety and eventful adventures.
In my early 20’s, I had the idea that flying 50-year-old Cessna’s, Piper’s, and de Havilland’s above Northwestern Ontario would be a cool way to make a living. Some days it was. Some days I cursed Orville and Wilbur Wright. After all, any job has its bad days.
The ink was barely dry on my Commercial Pilot’s License when I packed all my stuff into an old Jetta TDI and headed north. My head was filled with what became a grand delusion of what my first float-flying season would be like.
This was not unlike the romantic ideas everyone has when they buy their first 4x4 and are ready to hit the trails, especially with off-roading and overlanding gaining popularity. In fact, looking back, I see so many parallels between my first season of what turned out to be hauling garbage and/or other loads in a Cessna 180; with the guy stuck in the bush with his brand-new Jeep and an increasingly angry wife. It comes down to that ‘grand delusion thing’ again. So, I put together a quick list of efforts to smooth out those rookie wrinkles when it comes to exploring remote trails and back country roads.
1. Things Could Always Be Worse
You have your plans organized for your trip including a list of photos to take, the campfire meals arranged, plus the thrill of burning up hundreds of kilometres while only occasionally seeing another vehicle (after all, these are all reasons to wheel). But did you ever think about getting stuck surrounded by beautiful Mother Nature? No one does the first time. The reality is that a trip can always go sideways. But, when you think about it, at least you’re not stuck in a traffic jam or car accident on the 401 in the Greater Toronto Area or in the George Massey Tunnel on Highway 99 in Vancouver.
This is always the silver lining. You make a couple of mistakes during a rookie season and then you learn how to be prepared for all the next trips. Hopefully, you can go from not being prepared at all (and ruining a great trip), to just minor hurdles and bringing home bragging rights from a rural road or trail.
2. Ease Up on “Stuff” – Be Creative
When I started flying, I insisted on carrying a full kit with all of the essential gear in the event of bad weather and having to spend a night on some shoreline waiting it out – or worse.
In theory, this is a sensible idea. But in reality, there’s about as much room in a Cessna 180 as there is in a two door JK. At the time my bag wasn't revenue cargo and it got stripped down to the bare essentials pretty fast, eliminating gear I never used.
If it’s your first trip out on the trail or rural roads, take the kitchen sink. I promise it will get it thinned out soon enough just by finding multiple jobs for one single piece of gear. Also, it’s worth mentioning I think the greatest tool to ever bless bush pilots and four-wheelers alike is the Leatherman Super Tool. I have carried this god’s-creation-to-the-outdoor-enthusiast every time I’ve been in the bush since I was 12 or 13.
The fact that I haven’t lost it in almost 20 years speaks volumes. Some other gear that I consider mandatory (even for a day trip) is a good tarp, rope, change of clothes, various items to light a fire, a reliable fixed-blade knife, a saw of some kind, and flashlight and/ or headlamp. A water filter, rubber boots, rain gear, a basic tool kit, and of course, all of the essential recovery gear make it on any given trip. It may sound a little OCD, but bring this gear, especially if you wheel alone. Less stress leads to less “get-home-itis,” which leads to my next point.