‘Disneyland for pilots’

Jon Kotwicki is your man.

The former owner of a flight school in Florida, Kotwicki knows a wild hair when he sees it. He, too, left the relatively simple confines of the Sunshine State to pursue a new life in the Last Frontier, starting a flight school in Big Lake, Alaska, and flight instructing through YouTube videos. Even his mother was skeptical.

“Only you would think you could actually do this and then actually do it,” she said to him on her one and only trip from Florida to Alaska.

Not only did Kotwicki leave the warmth for the wilderness, buy 115 acres nearly sight unseen, carve out two gravel runways, and build some cabins for his prospective students, he let his imagination run amuck. “Wouldn’t it be cool if we got an old airplane and turned it into a house?”

His vision

In his quick-fire speak, Kotwicki calls the property “Fly Eight-Mike-Alpha Pilot Lodge.” Arriving there is an adventure itself. From Anchorage, the property in Big Lake is about an hour or so drive out of the city in an area that belies the famous beauty of Alaska. It’s simply a highway through several small towns (lots of coffee shops in little food trucks, though). But once up the drive and through the gate, Kotwicki’s vision comes into focus. There are the runways, the cabins, and, yep, two massive aircraft—a McDonnell Douglas DC–9 and a Douglas DC–6. There’s also a Boeing 727 and a 60-foot control tower. Since we were there this past summer, he’s added a Fairchild C–119.

All around the property are work trucks and construction workers. The hum of skill saws melding with birdsong. Under a copse of trees is Kotwicki’s rustic house surrounded by his many aircraft: a Rans he built, a Cessna 140, 170, and 172, a Super Cub and a J–3.

Accompanied by his faithful dog Foxtrot (incongruously a precious peppy Pomeranian), Kotwicki emerges from the DC–9 under construction to show off first the completed DC–6 house. It’s at the far end of the runway, away from the other aircraft, nestled in its setting amid tall trees. On the wing are a fire pit, gas grill, and comfortable outdoor seating. Up a flight of stairs, you enter the cabin door to a foyer with a mudroom and laundry facilities. This two-bedroom, one-bath tiny home is surprisingly spacious. The curved shape of the aircraft is highlighted by shiplap, the aisles leading to a large bedroom with a king-size bed in the back, a smaller bedroom on the hallway and large full bath, to a fully outfitted kitchen in the center. From the kitchen is the entrance to the wing porch. Farther to the cockpit is a large living room with comfy couch and TV. And then the best part: Kotwicki left the cockpit almost just as he found it. All the 1950s wires, instruments, buttons, and gadgets still as they were left when this old gal was retired. Kotwicki thinks it adds to the charm and notes that it keeps kids occupied and exposes them to the thrill of aviation, at least pretending to be at the controls. (He has safeguarded the unit as much as possible.)

This “airplane house” will sleep six and rents for $448 per night. Since it’s been open, both students at his flight school and tourists have enjoyed the accommodations; a guest book attests to the fun visitors have had here.

“We made sure we put the ‘air’ in the Airbnb in this one,” he says briskly. “So, this is a 1956 Douglas DC–6. It had flown in Vietnam. It has flown all over the world and spent a lot of time flying fuel in Alaska, delivering supplies and fuel to remote villages here. And now it is in its final resting place here at Fly Eight Alpha-Mike Pilot Lodge. You can fly in here, land on the 1,900-foot-long runway, tie down your airplane right in front of the house. Sit back, relax on the couch, watch TV, hang out on the wing deck, enjoy the heated floors, and really, hopefully appreciate the history you’re sitting in.”

Next up is the DC–9, boasting its livery as a DHL cargo airplane. It was still under construction when we were there; learning from the challenges of the DC–6 project, Kotwicki and his crew are vastly improving the space. It will be a three-bedroom, two-bath house with hot tub, sauna, a special kid’s room in the belly cargo accessed through a trap door, and will rent for $849 per night. Also under construction is a Boeing 727, which will have lodge-style accommodations; a 60-foot-tall control tower that will have an all-glass geodesic dome on top for stargazing; and plans for the conversion of the Fairchild C–119 to become a hands-on museum or learning library.

How he did it

You may have seen his footage on YouTube and television showing how Kotwicki had the aircraft towed up the road and to his property. The wags embellished the story and criticized him for closing traffic, but it really was a lot simpler and a lot less difficult than the media and his critics claimed. Kotwicki is not immune to criticism. He is an unusual guy and works with an energy and passion seldom seen. He is also undeterred by naysayers (remember his mother?).

The project was started with then-girlfriend, now just friend, Stephanie Blanchard. She is also a pilot and instructor and championed Kotwicki’s vision. For two years after he left Florida the pair traveled around the country in an RV searching for a good place for a flight school. He’d done well, he said, working for the airlines and then instructing and producing training videos.

“We bought some property in Utah, started going through the process of having a flight school there, but the bureaucracy and regulations…well, and the fact that every night we’d sit down and soon be watching some Alaska show because we missed it so much. We realized we just needed to be in Alaska. As fate would have it the real estate prices went through the roof, and we were able to cash out of there and this place became available. At about a million bucks for 115 acres, which honestly was probably below market value,” he says with complete honesty. “Do I ever look at this and think what was I thinking? Yeah, I do, but I do know what I was thinking. I don’t regret it. This is me doing the very best with what I saved up. This isn’t the first time my bank accounts have been very low, and it won’t be the last. It’s a labor of love and I do believe if you put enough into something, good things can happen.”

He has put a lot into what he’s doing. From instructing to running a bulldozer at 11 p.m. to producing videos to towing a 24-foot-wide load (the 727) down a road where the bridges were just 24 feet wide, he is indefatigable.

“I like doing a million things at once,” he says. “And here in Alaska, the support you get from people is great. It’s all a bunch of crazies here. Crazy loves crazy. I love being here with the other crazy people and they love the crazy stuff we are doing. And they are supportive of it and don’t get in your way.”

State of awe

Kotwicki says that Alaska is “the epicenter of amazing” and that he was rendered speechless flying Alaska.

“You just have to have an aircraft here. You have to see this by air, see the untouched wilderness. When I first came to Alaska, I was speechless and flying around here every day I am still speechless. I want people to have a place they can come to and be even more speechless than I was when I got here.”

He also believes Alaska is the best place to learn to fly because of the wide, open space and challenging weather conditions. And his “Disneyland for pilots” concept of having flight school students stay in renovated aircraft and cabins and to be able to walk out and jump in an aircraft, is his best dream.

“To me, a big part of doing this is the social aspect. I really believe flight schools miss out on the social aspect of aviation. You learn more sitting around a campfire with a beer in your hand, talking to other people, being honest, sharing stories. It’s awesome, you know. Flying is a freedom like no other. It’s also what it does for you when you’re not in the airplane—the people you meet, the relationships you get, the experience and knowledge you have.”

Work is constantly taking place at Kotwicki’s campground, especially in the long, long days of summer. As winter approaches, he will take a lot of his energy inside. He laughingly says he’s like a bear: He sleeps less than four hours when the sun is out nearly 20 hours in the summer but goes for nine hours or more when it’s cold and dark. “Hey, don’t tell people it’s cold here! It’s wonderful and it’s beautiful and amazing.

“It puts you in a state of awe, of how amazing the planet is. Alaska is the epicenter of amazing. It beats any other country, any other place in the world.”

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