Map of My Dead Pilots: The Dangerous Game of Flying In Alaska

Essentially, an account by a misfit among fellow misfits. But that's the kind of world that exists on the fringes of aviation. Delivering everything from dogs to food to corpses in the Alaskan backwaters for slim profits in shoddily maintained aircraft. All these pilots were there for their own reasons. Some, because there, they could fly the way they wanted to. Some because they have an itch they have to scratch until it bleeds. Some because it was the only way they could get paid to accumulate hours toward a better flying job. Some were unlucky. Some were doomed. Some were just stupid. Often, it was all three. This isn't the bush pilot flying of old. This was what that became when the lowest form of aviation management took it over to squeeze some nickles out of the situation. Some were going to die, and no one could change that. These are the stories from up close. It's not great literature. It's not even adept writing. But it's real. I wouldn't have missed it. And infinitely sad, although they dead would not ask for your sympathy.

The writing is full of padding, navel-gazing, and overwrought 'foreshadowing.' It's purplish at times, and blunt, and really doesn't have much literary merit. Phrases are used so often, this might even make for a good single-player drinking game. Which you might want it to be, seeing as the book details what amounts to ongoing poor decision with predictable results. In some ways, I felt I was reading the confessional of a dispatcher who wanted forgiveness that ... yeah no, can't really be delivered. She knew she was doing wrong. She knew the company was breaking the law, pushing the limits, and asking her to be complicit in the plan. And it killed people. I didn't like feeling like the author was pawing at me, begging me to give her something.In other ways, I felt like I was reading a retrospective from someone who just realized... they did a lot of shady things they never had to do. They thought they did, for some reason. So they did them, though they didn't want to. That's a tough break. I can have compassion for that. I even feel like sometimes, this book veered into an insight into functional depression. That had nothing to do with piloting or whatever, but maybe it explained a few things. I don't know. It felt unnecessary too.I'm glad The Company is long since closed. It shouldn't have ever been open, if this book is true. Be warned, this isn't a fair representation of flying.

I found start of the book difficult for me. It felt as if I were a fly on the wall, but had landed too late for the start and found out that I was in the middle of a long story telling. I had to catch up to where the story was going but, in the end, continued reading was well worth the effort.I often shook my head in dismay and disbelief and cried a bit too. Having lived in upstate NY, I know cold. The kind of cold winter season that makes the round tires on your car have flat spots. Or where you have to plug a block heater in at night or the oil will freeze. Anti-freeze gasoline treatment was a seasonal event.Alaska's winter is even colder and darker.Ms. Mondor stands on her own with this effort. She also shares a great deal about her family and her own feelings. Stoic to be sure, but the depth of her pain is obvious.Lastly, she isn't some adventurous reporter "on location". She lived that life for many years and her story is compelling. One cannot get anymore 'real' than that.I would love to read more by her.Well done!

The stories are mostly a third party perspective. There’s more than enough embellishments. The writer was not a line-pilot and portrays most of the pilots as having not much say in their fate. The situations are still current possibilities in rural Alaska. I recommend this to anyone wanting bush flying experience as a cautionary tale.

My father was a pilot from the age of 17 until he had retinal trouble at 83, and after the vision issue cleared, even though he did not renew his license, he remained a pilot until his death from mesotheliosis. Both my older and younger brothers became pilots, as would I have, circumstance aside, and as I am in spirit, nonetheless. The Map of My Dead Pilots lays out, in meticulous detail, what it means to be a pilot in the deepest core of one's spirit. Set against the stark reality of commercial bush air transport in some the harshest flight conditions in the world, that reality is gripping, and nearly soul crushing. As a quasi-pilot, myself, and the son of man of true pilot spirit, Map of My Dead Pilots rings closer to the pure spirit of flight than anything I have ever read.

I really enjoyed this book; it's very well written, so conversational you feel like you're listening to the author over coffee, and it's chock full of anecdotes that make us "Outsiders" shake our heads -- especially when remembering that this story is contemporary, essentially, not reflecting on experiences fifty years ago or more. The structure of the book is a little surprising at first, but the reason for that structure soon falls into place as it becomes clear that it's not just a collection of stories but an exploration, one trying to understand human behavior, human motivations, and our own senses of mortality, futility, purpose, self-knowledge, and the definitions of heroism. A fabulous combination of entertainment and thought-provoking (and you can skip the thought-provoking if you prefer sheer entertainment).

The book started out slow for me but picked up speed later. In the end it was a great thoughtful discussion of the mental forces effecting pilots in Alaskan flying. Most pilots in this type of aviation are in the start of their career, invincible, and vulnerable to the "get it done" culture that has existed in the past.

A fantastic book. A good read for both aviators and land lovers. Both humourous and dark - and sometimes at the same time!