I’ve been working in docs and film for 20-something years now. In 2016, I started working on my pilot license while I was living in New York City in the fall — I made it as far as my solo flight before winter hit. When spring came around, I decided I wanted to knock out the rest of my flying in one clean push. I had a van, so my plan was to drive it somewhere and fly. I’d camp and fly until I got my PPL. Texas, Utah, California all came to mind as destinations, but somehow though, I stumbled on Alaska and my drive time got a lot bigger and more epic.
In Alaska, there’s no night add-on required and eighteen hours of daylight. I flew, ate, studied, and that was it. The only indulgence I allowed myself was watching Flight Chops during my study breaks.
Steve Thorne’s channel (that’s his real name) felt like ground school. It was that informative. The way he leans into debriefing, self-critique, and safety above all else — he embodies the archetype of an aviator: honest, curious, no ego, and placing safety above all else.
As a filmmaker, I was instantly drawn to how he tells stories. It’s not just flying footage — it’s lessons, vulnerability, and craft all woven together. That’s why pilots like us — and folks at BETA especially — pay attention.
Steve’s first visit here was in the dead of winter. You can see ice on the Cirrus when we landed to pick him up at Billy Bishop. He froze his hands next to me in the heli during flight tests. We threw him right into the whirlpool: flying, testing, bouncing between our hangars and meeting more people than anyone could possibly keep straight.
“If I were graduating college, I’d be applying here.”
That’s what he said after spending time with our crew. He flew with a bunch of our in-house CFIs. The seaplanes were tucked away for the season, and the fabric planes hangared, but that didn’t matter, he still got up in the electric Pips and some helicopters. He couldn’t walk ten feet without bumping into someone with their PPL. He had fun with that — started adding people’s ratings into the flight test episode.
We told him he could see anything — and he did. Not everything, but a lot. He sat down for a team meal, talked shop, shared stories. I don’t think he expected to see quite as much as he did. But what I’m most proud of is this: we didn’t have to steer him. He could talk to anyone, dig as deep as he wanted, and he’d find the same thing — people who care, and nothing to hide.
These episodes from Flight Chops? They’re honest. They’re deep. And they’re a pretty damn accurate snapshot of this wild place we call work.
