E357: Evan Davis - How Flying Saved My Life
Notas del episodio
NEW SPONSOR ALERT!! Truly honored to have Avemco as new sponsor for the podcast. save 5% on your aircraft insurance by with Avemco. Call (888) 635-4297 or visit www.avemco.com/4297-owner - www.avemco.com/4297-nonowner!
Subscribe to the Pilot to Pilot Magazine
This is one of the most raw, honest, and inspiring aviation stories you'll ever hear. Evan Davis didn't take a traditional path to becoming an Alaska pilot—he fought through addiction, FAA scrutiny, and personal demons to get there. His story proves that your past doesn't define your future, and that the aviation community has room for second chances when you're willing to do the hard work. Evan Davis was eight hours into his flight training when his AME asked the question that changed everything: have you ever struggled with alcohol? He told the truth — and the FAA grounded him before he ever soloed. More than a decade later, Evan is a PC-12 medevac captain based in Wasilla, Alaska, flying out of Kotzebue two weeks a month, north of the Arctic Circle. In this conversation, he walks Justin through the whole arc: getting honest on his medical application, a Valentine's Day slip two months into sobriety, the HIMS program, and the year of breathalyzers, AA meetings, and flight simulator hours that rebuilt his life. From there, it's the flying story pilots come here for — a 90-hour trip into the Frank Church, a Cessna 182 used to commute to work, a chance resume drop in Homer that turned into a job offer, and eventually Bettles, the Brooks Range, and medevac work on the western coast of Alaska. Evan talks honestly about the weather that moves differently above the Arctic Circle, why saying "no" is the most important skill in the cockpit, what four months of darkness does to you, and why the pilots who make it in Alaska are almost always the ones who can live with other humans in a village for two weeks at a stretch. A story about addiction, second chances, and what it actually takes to fly in one of the last wild places left.
Happy Flying,
Justin