Crista V. Worthy lives in Hidden Springs, Idaho and is Editor of “The Flyline,” the monthly publication of the Idaho Aviation Association, as well as the Washington Seaplane Pilots Association newsletter. A freelance writer and editor with land and seaplane ratings, she has authored over 1,000 magazine articles, edited several books, and is the author of “Images of Aviation: Idaho Aviation” with 277 photos. The book is available on Amazon or from cristaworthy@hotmail.com.
WORTH THE READ: CRISTA WORTHY GUEST EDITORIAL
Our many RAF supporters have such vast and varied experience, and we’re capturing some of their words of wisdom to share with you. This guest editorial is by Crista Worthy, a pilot, freelance writer, and editor.
Our Aviation Inheritance :
You, and other pilots who support organizations like the Recreational Aviation Foundation (RAF), Idaho Aviation Association (IAA), and Montana Pilots Association (MPA) know these organizations are dedicated to preserving recreational airstrips across the U.S. and in their respective states. But who first built them, and why? And why are they still here? Follow my journey of discovery, summarized below, and your understanding and appreciation of these places will grow.
Based in Santa Monica, Calif., we’d flown our Robertson-STOL-equipped C-210 to 44 states, but never Idaho or the backcountry until August 2001 when I discovered Galen Hanselman’s book, Fly Idaho! On our first trip, we camped at Wilson Bar and swam in the Salmon River. At Johnson Creek, I watched huge Chinook salmon spawn in the shallows. I wept; those fish had overcome giant dams and fought their way 900 miles inland and a mile above sea level, for this, their final act of survival, to perpetuate their line. And at Fish Lake, we spent the day watching cow moose forage in the lake, calves at their sides. These were among the happiest days of my life.
I joined the above organizations, made more trips to Idaho, and, after seeing a spectacular photo of RAF supporter Michael Todd’s silver Skywagon in the Missouri Breaks during a lightning storm, wrote letters in support of the Missouri Breaks airstrips. By the time we moved to Idaho in 2011 I was Managing Editor of Pilot Getaways magazine. I began producing the IAA’s monthly Flyline and became deeply involved with the recreational aviation community.And then Arcadia Publishing asked me to write a book about Idaho’s aviation history.
Wow! In the process of gathering historic photos and stories for my book Images of Aviation: Idaho Aviation , I “met” an amazing array of courageous, hard-working, innovative, and often hilarious characters: the men and women who used aviation as a tool to make their living in the wilderness. You see, we use these airstrips for recreation. But they were built for work.
In 1910, a terrible drought struck the West. Late that summer over 1,000 fires converged into the “Big Burn,” which scorched 3.25 million acres in just 36 hours, destroying towns, wasting 8 billion board feet of timber, and killing some 85 people. The USFS turned to aviation for help. In 1922, WWI veteran Nick Mamer, an Air National Guard pilot out of Spokane, began flying patrols to report forest fires. 100 years ago this year, he landed at Stonebraker Ranch in Idaho’s Chamberlain Basin to make a deal with William Stonebraker, a hunting outfitter. Mamer flew hunters into the ranch for Stonebraker, and commercial backcountry aviation began.
But it didn’t stop there. Mines like the Stibnite in Idaho had to shut down every winter, but once pilots like Mamer and A.A. Bennett figured out how to put skis on airplanes, supplies and people could be ferried in and out year-round. Airstrips were built and new planes like the Zenith, in which Bennett carried everything from mining equipment to a piano and even a cow, were designed.
The USFS built some 5,000 fire lookouts in the 1930s, but they also built airstrips so pilots could fly firefighters into the forest. Mamer taught Bob Johnson and Penn Stohr to fly, and soon Johnson Flying Service out of Missoula had a fleet of sturdy aircraft and skilled pilots who flew in lumber, mail, and literally the kitchen sink so homesteaders could build ranches for themselves and visitors. Those primitive airstrips were lifelines. Bill Gowen made the first-ever landing at Cabin Creek in 1931 to rescue a critically-injured man. An old miner, hiding in the trees, watched the Travel Air 6000 take off from the hastily-cleared field and ran to the backcountry phone, exclaiming, “Slim! It’s all over for that plane! It’s gonna crash! The wings weren’t flapping!” He’d never seen an airplane.
In 1935, the Zimmerly brothers flew 60,000 pounds of freight, trained 20 students, and carried 3,600 passengers. In the 1950s, Jim Larkin rescued 4 prize horses from Morgan Ranch in the winter. Bob Woods regularly flew horses and ponies into Pistol Creek for the little girls who summered there.
This is just a tiny peek into the legacy you have inherited, and that the 1980 Central Idaho Wilderness Act, and subsequently the RAF, IAA, and MPA have preserved. Enjoy!
Missouri River Breaks Storm
Moose, Fish Lake Campsite
Moose Creek Ranger Station, 1938
Zimmerly Brothers with Passengers, 1935
Nick Mamer, Spokane Air National Guard Airplane with William Stonebraker, Stonebraker Ranch, 1925
Photos courtesty of Mike Todd, Crista Worthy, and University of Idaho Library.
Submitted July 31, 2025
Posted in Guest Editorial, News
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At about this time, every year, we have this conversation at the RAF about what our year end letter (code for asking for your financial support) should say to you, and about the RAF and the accomplishments of the past year.
Our many RAF supporters have such vast and varied experience, and we’re capturing some of their words of wisdom to share with you. This guest editorial is by Stef Goza, a pilot and an RAF Alaska liaison.
Bill credits aviation for much of his success in business and the ability to serve his companies and family. What began in a Champ, and a Tri-Pacer owned by five people, turned into what Bill calls, “a key business tool” in which he accumulated 9,000 hours – in a Cheyenne, a Pilatus, and a TBM, where ninety-five percent of his flying was for business. “My retirement enabled me to recall ‘Why I Learned to Fly’, a slogan from an old RAF video.” Bill’s son, Patrick, purchased the C185 they now share. “While attending a business function, some associates arrived in corporate jets. As they joined up on the tarmac, the jet pilots gathered around Patrick’s 185, and one of the passengers asked, ‘What’s special about this?’ No explanation needed for this RAF audience,” Bill says. “My involvement in the RAF is, in a partial way, repaying the rewards aviation has endowed me with. Having been involved in many worthwhile nonprofits, this is one where financial support is only part of the picture. Physically participating in great projects that have a lasting effect, with good people, returns a great personal benefit,” he says. “My only regret is that I wasn’t there at the start.” Bill and his wife Jane are privileged to be able to split time between their long-time home in eastern Nebraska and Scottsdale, Arizona. While still serving on several boards, he enjoys golf “about every third shot,” biking, cars, and reading, but always looks forward to the time he can be involved in the RAF. “It’s flying with a purpose,” he adds. Bill can be reached at bdugan@theraf.org
AR Ambassador
A Christmas gift of flight lessons from his parents started Scott Anttila’s aviation journey in 1985. “I learned at Johnson Field, a small grass strip tucked into the woods in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, and that early exposure to simple backcountry flying stuck with me,” Scott says. Growing up in the U.P., he spent a lot of time outdoors and found that flying was another way to get to the places he liked to explore—especially the ones most people never saw. As he earned more ratings and eventually moved to the Detroit area for work, Scott realized he needed a way to stay connected to northern Michigan. He bought an airplane and used it to get back to the smaller airstrips and lake country he enjoyed. Along the way, he also flew gliders out of Frankfort, soaring along the Sleeping Bear Dunes and towing sailplanes over the Great Lakes. “Those flights gave me a different appreciation for the landscape and made me even more interested in the small, out-of-the-way airports scattered around the state,” he says. Visiting those kinds of places, Scott first came across the Recreational Aviation Foundation. He started using RAF-supported airstrips both inside and outside Michigan. “I noticed how well-kept they were and how much access they opened up,” he says, adding, ”Over the years, I’ve watched a number of grass strips close, which made the RAF’s mission feel especially important to me. Maintaining these airstrips keeps aviation connected to the outdoors and makes it possible for more people to reach the quiet, remote areas that inspired me to fly in the first place.” Scott joins the other two RAF Michigan Liaisons, General Grant and Tanmoy Ganguly. He can be reached at santtila@theraf.org . Submitted December 11, 2025.
