Link to the gallery

In and around Juneau

Whales

On the flight from Ketchikan to Juneau we flew along the coast and Katie saw DOZENS of whales. At first she was unsure what the little dark grayish torpedos were, but then she started seeing them blow and even saw one huge breach. We were pretty shocked just how many humpbacks could be seen at once. We hadn't booked any whale excursions on our trip, so this was particularly cool.

Jorgensen House B&B

I don't even know where to begin with Jorgensen House. It was absolutely spectacular. The house and grounds themselves are incredibly beautiful and peaceful. We walked to and from town every day past a gorgeous park-like cemetery. Renda, our hostess, was so gracious and spoiled us endlessly, always accessible, but never obtrusive.

The breakfasts were out of this world ridiculously delicious. Honestly they have gourmet chefs serving breakfast and every morning they come out and tell you what they've created. We felt like royalty while staying here.

We didn't tell them it was Katie's birthday, but by random happenstance, they had cake available the evening of her birthday. They also whipped a scrumptious lunch to go with zero notice when they learned we'd be flying over the lunch hour, such service!

Around town

Town was pretty clearly divided between cruise ship owned tourist crap stores and local stuff, we tried a bit of both and for the most part liked everything. First we had diner at The Hanger on the Warf which was yummy enough. We also tried the Twisted Fish (apparently the same owners) and it was also pretty good. Emma was quite pleased with the sashimi platter at Tokyo Japanese Restruant. We got Russian Dumplings for lunch one day at Pel'meni which were good and cheap. We also had a suprisingly ample lunch at Devil's Club Brewing along with two satisfying flights of beer, the people there were very nice. The best, in our opinion, was Deck Hand Dave's food truck at Gunakadeit Park. Renda tipped us off that when the Food Network folks had stayed with them they said it was the best fish tacos around. There we ordered fish tacos, fish and chips, and got some beer in the cute little food truck court, it was all very very good.

Juneau is the capital of Alaska, and as such has the capital buildings and the governor's mansion. These are mostly unremarkable, but the capital building has a life-sized bear statue that Emma decided was her mama.

Mount Roberts

The driver of our taxi from the airport gave us a quick tour of downtown Juneau, and one thing that he mentioned (that we hadn't already heard about) was that we could hike up Mount Roberts, and after buying $10 of stuff from a gift shop, ride the tram down "for free". I'm not telling you to cheat, of course, but no one checked our receipt ;)

We were planning on walking downtown from our B&B to the base of the tram, and taking the tram round-trip. But, we didn't have anything planned for this day, so we thought we might try the hike. Initially, it seemed like an insane idea, but Emma was bouncing off the walls, so we decided to give it a shot. Our B&B is near the trailhead for the Gold Creek Flume trail, which links up with the Mount Roberts trailhead. By the time we hiked up the hill to get to the trailhead, we saw that it was closed until September... Booo! Undeterred, we called a taxi and got a ride to the Mount Roberts trailhead by road.

We knew, of course, that hiking up a mountain was going to be challenging, and we were worried how Emma would take it, but we actually did amazingly well. Emma never complained about the hike. She said she was tired once, but it had the air of a status report, rather than a complaint.

Though the hike was achievable, I had not anticipated how sweaty I'd be at the top. It was kinda jarring being sweaty and stinking while mingling around so many people from the cruises that took the tram up.

The tram ride down was awesome, and it is a truly impressive incline.

Mendenhall Glacier and Summer Dog Camp

One of the three banner events for the trip was the Mendenhall Glacier helicopter tour and dog camp. Everything went according to plan, and the weather today was perfect. We had an easy morning, because our tour group was set to meet in downtown Juneau at 2:45. The tour company is a mill, and is run like a well oiled machine.

Their facility is on the East end of the Juneau International Airport, and it's basically a small building surrounded on three sides by running helicopters. When I say running helicopters, I mean it. I don't think they shutdown all day. A flight of three comes in and lands, the people get out, it gets fueled (while running), people get in, and they leave. The whole process can't take more than 3 minutes. The flight to the glacier is about ten minutes. About half-way through your time on the glacier, you can hear the helicopters come back and swap-out another group. The formation flying that these pilots do is pretty awesome. The flight itself isn't close formation, but the takeoffs and landings are like ballet.

The flight to the glacier, though short, was beautiful. I can only think of a few places on earth that would be as spectacular to see by helicopter. As we flew away from Juneau and climbed, we could see the trees thin at the timberline, then as we climbed further rock turned to ice. Flying further still, we could see the flows of ice, frozen in time.

Eventually, we approached a large bowl-like feature in the rock and ice, and in the center a small formation of structures. It was like a micro-sized burning man on ice. This impression was made even stronger when we landed and were greeted by funky guys in full glacier glasses.

The first guy we talked to explained the camp, and what he does there. During the winter he lives in Fairbanks with his wife and their 45 sled dogs. But, in the summer, it's too warm down there for the dogs to exercise and train properly. So, every summer they move up to the glacier and that lets them keep their dogs from going nuts due to boredom. About 22 people live at the camp at a time, and they rotate down with a few living "on the ground" at a time.

Next we got to take our ride on the dogsleds. They plan on making 3-4 stops along a 1.5 mile loop so that everyone can rotate in position on the sleds. The front sled is the one that's driven by the real musher, and there's a trailer sled that looks like a normal dogsled on which each visitor can play at mushing. Even though you had no real control in the back, I got the feeling that being the real musher doesn't afford you a lot of control either. The sleds do have brakes, and I did use them a few times to avoid hitting the real musher in front.

One of the times that we stopped to rotate, and also at the end, we got a chance to pet the dogs and thank them for doing a good job. It was cool to see how different their personalities were. I became enamored with one in particular that was very clear with you when she decided she wasn't done being petted. She'd either hit you with her paw or head-but you, such a sweetheart.

Finally, we all got a chance to pet and snuggle with two very cute puppies. I'm certain this was Emma's favorite part of the entire vacation.

Mendenhall Glacier by Canoe

This excursion was a pretty simple one. The basic idea is to get into a canoe with something like 19 other people and paddle for 5.5 miles in Mendenhall Lake. I was surprised just how exhausting that would be, and how annoying it would be to paddle behind some late-teen/early-twenty something women from Jersey who were either incredibly incompetent and/or incredibly lazy. We weren't at all sore after climbing Mt. Roberts, but our arms were a little sore after paddling the lake.

Emma really wanted to try paddling, but she's just not quite strong enough yet. I helped her with it, but the angles were really hard on my arms. I have to say, she may not be a great paddler yet, but she looks great with a paddle! 😂

After going as close as we could to the glacier, we turned toward Nugget Falls. The guide had us paddle right at the falls as hard as possible, and got a pretty good splash. Emma was not impressed!

That was pretty much it. We paddled back, and that was that. Then, the next day, when we were flying to Talkeetna Katie got an awesome photo of Mendenhall Lake, with the glacier and Nugget falls.

Link to the gallery

Enjoying Ketchikan

Now that we're on the ground at Ketchikan, and had some rest we got to explore the town some. It's a pretty neat little community and we enjoyed it. There were a few highlights...

Funicular

Our hotel is up on the hill overlooking Creek Street. It's a pretty steep grade at 70%, and 175' of elevation change. It would be a total bummer to have to walk it every time. Thankfully, the builders of the hotel had the good sense and foresight to build the Funicular. The upper end of it opens right into the lobby.

Creek Street

Creek Street is the former "Red Light" district of Ketchikan. There were saloons, brothels, all that good stuff. Now, though, it's fairly typical tourist-y shops. As far as these shop walks go, though, it's pretty cute. The best part is the actual creek that runs along side it where you can see HUNDREDS of salmon at once try to make it back up stream to spawn and seals gather for an easy meal.

Totem Heritage Center

Ketchikan has a really lovely little city park up the hill from downtown. It has a salmon hatchery, fountain, and the Totem Heritage Center. The Smithsonian, Forest Service, City of Ketchikan (and others) all worked to develop a survey of the totems in SE Alaska. They secured buy-in from the Native Alaskan Brotherhood and Sisterhood (NAB/NAS) and the owners of the totems. For totems they couldn't establish ownership, they got permission from tribal descendants. These totems were removed from where they were installed, and moved to the Center. The rational for these moves is that totems had been stolen, vandalized, or were decaying in the weather. They were carefully removed and are displayed at the center.

It was very cool and inspiring to see the old totems as they were. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest (as Katie and I did) gave us the opportunity to see a ton of totem poles around, but they were all modern. These are real and old.

Float planes

You know that you're going to see a lot of float planes in Alaska, but I had no idea just how many I'd see. It's honestly ridiculous. They're everywhere. Prior to coming to Alaska, I think I may have seen a De Havilland Beaver once in my life. Now I've seen probably 50. Same goes with De Havilland Otters.

Flying to Juneau

For the flight to Juneau, I filed an IFR flight plan, even though the weather was more than sufficient for VFR. Especially on trips like this, I like having "someone watching me". Unfortunately, no one was for the majority of the flight.

Ketchikan, like Port Hardy, has a "Mandatory Frequency" which is almost like a tower, but they do not tell you what to do. You check in with them, tell them where you are and what you're doing, and they tell you what everyone else is doing. When we checked on being ready to taxi, they just asked if we were going to be going right to the runway or stopping anywhere else (presumably for a run-up). Because we had already done all the pre-takeoff checks, we said we weren't stopping anywhere else. They told us about the Beavers in the pattern for the river, and that they had no other scheduled flights for several minutes. Finally, they reminded us that runway 11 is right-traffic. We took off, changed frequencies, and called Anchorage Center.

When we called Anchorage Center, they couldn't pick us up on radar. I've had this happen before in Oregon. I'm not sure why, but my transponder just isn't that sensitive. While we were waiting to see if they'd be able to pick me up, and decide whether they were going to accept me as an IFR flight without a transponder, I went ahead and climbed up to 8,500' as a VFR hemispherical altitude.

Eventually, they cleared me for the flight, and I descended to the filed and cleared altitude of 8,000'. I had to give position reports about every 20 miles along the trip. Another thing that I have to sometimes do in remote mountainous areas such as this is get frequency changes 20-40 miles beforehand. For example, I got something like "report 20 miles prior to Level Island on my frequency 133.9". This is basically him telling me that I'm going to be out of range on my current frequency sometime between where I am and 20 miles south of LVD, and that they will use that as another point to keep track of where I am. This happened twice on this flight.

Another interesting thing that happened on today's flight is that another aircraft missed a handoff. So, Anchorage center asked me to broadcast to them their new frequency. I hadn't thought about it at the time, but me repeating the request was also broadcasting to them. I heard the other aircraft read back to me, then I heard them check-in with Anchorage. Finally Anchorage thanked me for the help.

Because another IFR aircraft was going into Juneau before me, and they didn't have me on radar, I had to stay really high really late into the approach again. Luckily, I finally got close enough to a radar facility that they were able to pick me up and give me a descent. They cleared me for the visual and handed me off to Juneau tower. I was high and close enough that I had to do a 360° to lose some altitude. I did a wide downwind and had an uneventful approach to landing.

I noticed while filling out my logbook that my plane has 1999.2 hours since new, and my engine has almost made it all the way to TBO. I can't wait to put the 0.8 on it soon, and hopefully get a photo of the big 2000!

Link to the gallery

I was hoping that the log for the first day of flying was going to be filled with sunshine and roses. It's not. It's primarily comprised of pee and frustration.

Packing and preparation

Our morning preparation was frantic and hurried. I had to file an eAPIS for departing the United States, call Canadian border patrol, call for the latest databases for the GPS, and re-pack my backpack from the work trip. Meanwhile Katie and Emma had to get themselves ready and packed. Of course, we left the house about an hour late. Being late today is a theme.

Once we got to the airport we were only just able put everything in the plane. Even after all of our work trying to optimize our packing. We still had to use a laundry basket to carry stuff we're planning on leaving in the plane most of the time. We preflighted the airplane, took our bathroom breaks, and were ready to go. Except that we had to call Canadian border patrol again. I couldn't find a way to edit my manifest on the US customs site, but I did read about the possibility of using the radio to do it.

First leg

The flight portion of our first leg was honestly unremarkable. We departed VFR from Corvallis and got our IFR clearance to Port Hardy in the air. Once we were handed off to Seattle Center, I asked the controller if there was a frequency I could use to contact CBP (they mention this in their documentation) that I could use to adjust my estimated border crossing time. The sector that services most of Oregon (125.8) didn't know, and thought that a sector closer to the boarder would know.

We went through Portland's airspace, and when we were handed off to Seattle center again, I asked again about the customs thing. This controller was more knowledgeable about these procedures. She said that as long as I was on an IFR flight plan, I didn't need to worry about border crossing times. She did say that she couldn't help me with the customs at the destination. As I had already notified Canada about the change, I was all set.

The actual act of crossing the border between the US and Canada was incredibly mundane. I took a picture, but that's all that happened.

The Canadian controllers we worked with were friendly and helpful, and gave us shortcuts several times during the short time we were in their charge. Eventually, we had to ask for a descent, because we were still at 10,000' quite close to Port Hardy. Apparently a Saab 340 had been slowly creeping up alongside us, and they had to have us do some turns to let them pass before we could be descended. By the time we could finally descend, we needed to do so at about 1,500'/minute. Emma's ears had a hard time clearing, and she let us know about it!

One procedural difference about many Canadian and Alaskan airports is the "Mandatory frequency". It's almost like a tower, except that they don't really give you directions. When we initially called them up, they gave us a list of all the planes they knew about in the area. It was kinda cool to have a situational awareness brain dump, but it came quickly enough that it was hard to retain all of it.

It was really bumpy on the last portion of this flight, and the winds when we landed were 10 knots gusting to 18. It was sporting, but ended up being sufficiently smooth (the plane was reusable).

Once on the ground, we asked Port Hardy Radio where to park for customs, and they just had us park in a little parking area along the (only) taxiway. None of our phones worked, so we had to power on the plane radios again to ask how to get a hold of customs. They said that one person could leave the plane and use a landline. I ended up walking over to the Pacific Coastal Airlines fuel office and waiting for the Line service tech to return. He let us use his phone to call Canadian customs. They verified our information, gave us a "contact number" and said that we were all set. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Then, we had them fill the plane with the most expensive 40 gallons of 100LL I've ever purchased. ($2.39cad/lt. or about $7us/gal.)

Port Hardy

The Foreflight airport page for Port Hardy (CYZT) listed an airport Cafe that seemed fine for lunch. I did notice that they had no ATM, nor could they take cards. So, I was able to get some Canadian cash from Travelex in the Boston airport when I was flying home from my work trip. By this point, we were all pretty hungry (it was about 2PM after all) and looking forward to lunch.

Unfortunately, however, the terminal was in the process of being torn down. This was definitely a frustration, but the guy that fueled our plane recommended a sushi restaurant at the Airport Inn which was a ten minute walk away.

Emma and Katie went out ahead while I stayed during the fueling of the plane. I thought about the fact that we were basically splitting up and walking around a place we've never been before without cellular phone service. This is something we did all the time growing up, but we've become so accustomed to the safety net that it feels weird without it.

By the time I got to the restaurant and inn, Katie was walking out the door looking pissed off. It turns out that the restaurant had been closed for some time, and the closest alternative was a ten minute drive away. We were already running quite late, and this was starting to turn into a quagmire. Ultimately, we decided to buy the snacks closest to food that we could at the inn and go back to the plane. However, the inn had internet, and I had to make sure to file the eAPIS for our return to the US. Finally, all that was finished and everyone got back to the airport at a time somewhat resembling the original planned departure time.

Port Hardy Radio was able to get our IFR flight plan, and clear our departure, but taking off was "at our discretion". This was something we're not used to, but it wasn't an issue.

Second leg

The majority of the second flight was unremarkable, though exquisitely beautiful.

Until about an hour in, when Emma declares that she needs to pee. NOW. We frantically searched for an empty bottle had Emma pull down her pants and luckily we made it in time... except since Emma is five and has never peed in a bottle before she didn't have it lined up perfectly at first so she peed all over the floor mat anyway. We adjusted and caught the rest, but some had already gotten on her pants and the floor, she spent the remainder of the flight half naked in her seat.

The approach into Ketchikan was odd. First of all, though I had updated databases, the RNAV 29 approach wasn't in the GPS database. Anchorage center was keen on clearing me for it, though, provided I had the plate, and that ZIKMU was in my database. He said "because we've already had a problem with this today, I want to make sure you fly to ZIKMU, do the procedure turn in the hold and proceed inbound." I acknowledge this, and about that time, it was time to turn. Because I wasn't working on an approach the PROC button in the GNS430 knows about, I had to manually add ZIKMU to the flight plan and activate it direct. Then, I had to go to heading mode in the autopilot to fly the hold in lieu of procedure turn (this is normal for a GNS430 [not WAAS]). I was cleared for the approach and told to contact Ketchikan Radio at ZIKMU inbound.

Once past ZIKMU, we called Ketchikan radio, and gave them an initial position report. I don't remember exactly how they responded, but they basically said "whatever, talk to me when you're 8 miles out". I heard them mention to other traffic "there's a cirrus out there, but they're more than 10nm away". Once we were 8 miles away, I called them again, and they told us to call again. Eventually Ketchikan radio told us that Anchorage Center wanted to know our altitude. I told them 1,500'. I thought that was odd. Immediately afterward, an Alaskan Airlines 737 asked me if I was on short final. I told them I was. Then I heard them talking about doing some S-turns to make up space for me to land. I realized that I should keep my speed up and land longer than usual. I did these things (within my comfortability) and taxied as fast as I could. There are only two places to get off the runway at Ketchikan; one at each end. Once on the ground, I heard Ketchikan radio throwing shade at "That cirrus that decided to land short". I don't think they believe in taxiways up in the north. Port Hardy had one taxiway, Ketchikan has one taxiway. I'm looking forward to seeing how few airports don't have them.

I've noticed that Alaskan flying is next-level. The controllers expect you to be better. I've flown in Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Los Vegas, and Phoenix Class B airspaces, and I've never been thrown shade, as I've gotten from Anchorage Center. I think this is a good thing, and I'm committing myself to rise to their expectations.

Customs hell (and a silver lining)

When we got to the FBO we saw a marshaller showing us where to park. We followed his instructions and shut down the engine. When he came up to the plane, I explained that we needed to get checked out by Customs and Border Patrol. He said "No problem, I'll get them for you." We noticed there was a white SUV near by, and thought that might be the officer. But, the truck looked empty. We patiently waited for a while, trying to convince ourselves that waiting in a plane that you've spent 6 hours in is better than the giant football-field sized corral they have in Cancun. Then, we noticed that the truck disappeared. Now, to be clear, you are not allowed to leave the plane while you're waiting for customs. We decided that we had better call the local customs office and see what happened...

The phone rang, and a woman answered. I explained where we were and what we needed. Then she went off. She condescendingly explained that we were very late, and that the officer had waited as long as he could. Then he had to go to another float plane, and that he had gotten the ferry to the other side of the river. She said that my planned arrival time was 3:45 and that I was over an hour late. I tried to remain very calm, and tell her that I was looking at my eAPIS acknowledgement right now, and that I did not put 3:45 down as my time. I offered to read to her my filing confirmation number, but she said she didn't want to login to her computer. She said that the officer would come back when he was done with the other plane.

We sit in the plane for an hour. We are hungry. The plane smells like pee. Emma has no pants on.

After a while we decide to clean up the plane... Putting things away, cleaning up the pee, trying to dig out clothes for Emma.

I called CBP again. This time it's a Male officer. He's a lot nicer, but basically says "I'll get to you when I can"

We decide to move the plane to the overnight parking area. We're still confined to the plane. Emma has to pee again (goddamn camelback).

After nearly two hours on the ground, stuck in the plane, we see the office arrive. He turns out to be ridiculously nice. He apologized for everything and checked our documents. He said we were good to go.

We started unpacking the plane and getting our packs together. I called the FBO to ask for a van ride to the ferry. They're apparently already on their way, because they saw the CBP truck (awesome service, Aero Services! 👏).

Once we arrive to the ferry dock, it's just pulling up and we sit down. Of course the customs officer is waiting to cross the river back to Ketchikan. We chatted with him a little on the ferry, and he offers to give us a ride to Creek Street! (It's basically right next to the Federal Building). We chat some more with him, and learn about what brought him up to Alaska from his prior work on the southern border.

To be honest, being imprisoned in the plane for two hours sucked a bunch, but the officer's kindness pretty much made up for it all in my mind.

Goals and considerations

The main goal for the fist day of flying is to get to the state of Alaska.

Originally, we had considered starting from the Seattle area, and Boeing Field, in particular. The reason for this was two-fold. On the one hand, we could shave almost two hours off the first day of flying, and on the other, we have friends in that area that we'd love to spend time with.

Ultimately, I had a work obligation that will be longer than expected, and I won't be able to come come until a day later than expected. Also, Katie and Emma had considered coming with me on that trip. Had that been the case, we'd have flown up to Seattle, left the plane there, and flown to the work trip from SEA.

Anyway, as it happens, we're flying all the way to Alaska from Corvallis (CVO) in one day. This is just-under 5 hours of flying, which is less than we've done in the past. For example, the flight from Chandler, AZ to Corvallis is six-and-a-half hours. Emma was a champ during this flight, but the last hour was hard on her. Given that this day of flight will be more than an hour shorter than that was, I'm confident that she'll be more than capable of this one as well.

The plan

We've decided that we can do this trip in one day, with one stop for fuel and lunch.

It's a bit annoying that we'll have to clear customs twice in one day, once in Canada, and once in Alaska, but that's part of the fun, isn't it? 😆

I've read a few other trip reports, and it seemed like Port Hardy, on the northern-most part of Victoria island is a popular stopping point. As it happens, it's a very convenient stopping point for us, as well. Almost perfectly splitting the journey.

View Larger Map

Once we've filled our bellies and our plane, we'll continue on to Ketchikan. This is a relatively short 2 hour flight, and should be a nice way to end the day.

Port Hardy has a cafe on the field, and it looks like a good option. However, it appears that it's cash-only, and doesn't have an ATM, so we'll need to figure out how to get some Canadian currency before flying up.

There is 100LL fuel reported on the field, according to the Canadian Flight Supplement, but, as mentioned in the FAA Flying to Alaska document, it's wise to call ahead and check on fuel status prior to departure.

First leg

Between Corvallis and Port Hardy we can get almost all the way there on V495, but switching to V165 at Newberg (UBG) is a bit of a short-cut, and I'm planning on re-joining V495 at DIGGN, which is near the North East corner of the Olympic Peninsula. From there, we'll track V440 to Port Hardy. The highest MEA along this route is 9,600' near the mid-point of Victoria island, and I'm flight planning for cruise at 10,000'.

Second leg

From Port Hardy to Ketchikan is a short enough, and remote enough, flight that there's no real point to worrying about airways, so we filed point-to-point. The path is from YJQ, PR, ANN, and finally PAKT. The highest MEA on this trip is 7000', and I'll fly it at 10,000'.

Gallery

As with any activity, and especially with flying, risk is present. One must decide what their risk tolerance is, the inherent risk of their activity, circumstantial risk, and strategies for the mitigation of risk. For this trip, the most salient risks specific to this trip are:

Weather

The weather in Alaska and Northwest Canada is notorious for its treacherousness. There are two concerns in particular. One is coastal fog, the other is icing.

To mitigate these risks, we've designed our trip with flexibility in mind. This is a particular challenge for Katie, who normally plans our trips down to the hour. We have only three major activities scheduled, and they're in the middle of our trip. This will give us the freedom to skip a day of flying if the weather isn't cooperating.

Furthermore, Will is an instrument-rated pilot, and we will be filing and flying the trip under instrument flight rules.

Finally, our plane is equipped with a non-hazard icing protection system (using TKS fluid). This is not a system that you can rely upon (legally, or practically), but if we end up in icing it will buy us some time to turn around and get out.

Terrain

This is high country. Denali is a stupidly tall mountain (around 20,000'). A lot of the mountains out here are huge. One problem this poses is that the weather and the terrain may push us to fly higher than is safe given the "thinness" of the atmosphere at altitude. Another problem is the potential for lack of situational awareness while in instrument meteorological conditions (IMC) and finding some terrain by surprise.

For the first problem, we mitigate it by choosing routes by looking at the highest MEA of the journey for each leg. In our case, the highest MEA is 11,300'. Will is a fit, relatively young, non-smoker. We routinely fly at ten, eleven, sometimes twelve thousand feet without supplemental oxygen. We have a pulse oximeter onboard, and check our SpO2 frequently on these flights. We make sure that it's at least 90%.

Regarding the unexpected encounter with terrain, the mitigation here is to use the technological tools at our disposal, including the aircraft's multi-function display (MFD), the terrain awareness and warning system (TAWS), and backup from the Foreflight synthetic vision system. Also, we will be avoiding IMC wherever possible, and my personal minimums for the ceilings at the destinations will be much higher than charted.

Facilities

Ketchikan and Juneau are not accessible by road. Take a minute, and let that sink in. The implication of this is that these very small towns (by normal standards) need to get everything shipped in via air or boat.

Simple things like aviation fuel may be difficult to come by. The FAA advises that you call ahead to each port that you intend to receive services from, prior to departure, to make sure that they can actually provide them to you. The biggest worry is fuel. We intend to bring a few quarts of oil with us, and a few spare spark plugs.

Additionally, many Alaskan airports don't have precision instrument approaches. I suspect that this is due to the nearby terrain, in many cases. For at least Ketchikan and Juneau, these airports are nestled in deep canyons. It's hard to have a miles-long straight shot to a runway, to say nothing about a missed approach procedure in this case.

For the instrument pilots reading, check out the approach for Juneau shown above, notice how different many things are relative to the lower-48, even the mountainous west. First of all, the missed approach point (MAP) and minimum descent altitude (MDA) are relatively far away from the airport and higher than normal. Also, if you reach MOLRE, and don't see the airport, you had better be turning without delay!

Mechanical

While our plane is in excellent condition, and there are no known issues, anything could happen. We're flying over a lot of desolate land, and the endpoints may have limited mechanical service available.

There's really no mitigation available other than to address anything that comes up as soon as its detected, especially if there are services available on the field. This even applies if it means that we may miss an appointment or booking because of it. It will be tempting to defer issues if it's inconvenient to have them addressed.

Procedural

Things are different in Canada. Things are even different in Alaska. These procedural differences are at best annoying, but at worst could lead to loss of separation with other aircraft.

The mitigation strategy for this risk is to read up on the procedures, and try to understand them as best as possible. I've got the Canadian Airman's Information Manual, and I've been reading through it.

Risk Tolerance

Phew, that's a lot of risk!

Or is it?

Ultimately, we decided that the risks are fully outweighed by rewards. We planned 4 days in Juneau, that gives us a bank of days that we can use to stay safe in the case of weather. On the way home, we don't have any appointments, Will has two days of PTO to spare, and we're taking the safer interior route.