The ambience aboard Buffalo Airways' 1942 Douglas DC-3 is somewhere between Disneyland and chicken bus.
From the outside, the plane's pug nose and bulbous fins look like a cartoon come to life. Inside, stacks of frozen fish and auto parts jut into the narrow centre aisle, their odours mingling with propellor exhaust and motor oil.
A flight attendant - or "biscuit shooter," as the position is known at Buffalo - dressed in greasy jeans and an oversized sweatshirt passes out homemade cookies.
Rubberneckers pop their flash bulbs, capturing every dent and scrape inside a plane built to beat Hitler and Hirohito.
The regulars - most of them northerners making the morning hop from Hay River, NWT, to Yellowknife for work or for family - have learned to tolerate day trippers. In the nearly 40 years that Buffalo Airways has been flying to all points north of 60, its antique birds have become increasingly irresistible to history buffs and aeronautical nerds.
"In the summer, we'll have three people on the tarmac taking pictures at any given time," says Mikey McBryan, head mechanic at Buffalo. "You wouldn't believe how specific their questions get. They'll want where and when a certain plane flew in Normandy. Half the time, I don't even know."
Such is the strange in-between world of Buffalo Airways: For northerners, it's a vital transportation link; for planespotters, it's a kind of working museum.
Ask aviation enthusiasts around the world and they'll rattle off specs for Buffalo's vintage fleet and its distinction as the last airline in North America to fly scheduled DC-3 passenger routes.
Search Buffalo Airways online and you'll come up with hundreds of photos and several YouTube clips of a hardworking airline whose reputation for keeping history aloft attracts aviation nuts from all over the world to the Northwest Territories.
"People like me are just in awe of these things," says Ralph Pettersen, who works for the U.S. Navy in Washington, but travelled to Buffalo's headquarters last year to gawk. "It's the smell, the sight, the rumbling engines - everything about them is classic."
Among Buffalo's main attractions are several snub-nosed DC-3s, the revolutionary planes whose 21-seat configuration first made commercial passenger flights financially viable in the late 1930s; two Curtiss C-46s, or Whales, whose cavernous bellies hauled Allied troops and cargo over the Himalayas during the Second World War; and nearly a dozen temperamental DC-4s, which clocked a million miles a month over the Atlantic when German U-boats were posing a menace to marine convoys.
Most airlines would dub such an array of hulks a "bone yard," but here no plane is allowed to die.
Mr. Pettersen belongs to a large group of aviation fans, "propheads" to some, who revere the radial piston-driven planes that dominated the skies during the golden age of flight.
Ian Allan Travel, one of Britain's largest travel agencies, caters to these enthusiasts, setting up tours to far-flung corners of the world where vintage planes are still working: Colombia, Bulgaria, Norway, Dubai and, yes, Yellowknife.
"The first thing we do when we arrive is say 'Good Lord it's cold,' " says Gerry Manning, an aviation writer who led an Ian Allan tour to Yellowknife last winter. "And then we get down to admiring the aircraft. They're remarkable and virtually factory fresh."
At least Ian Allan tours clear their arrival with Buffalo's owner, Joe McBryan, ahead of time. Some don't bother.
A few weeks ago, for instance, two German fellows showed up unannounced on the Buffalo tarmac wanting a ride in a Curtiss C-46.
"They didn't know a thing about northern Canada," says Mikey McBryan, the founder's son, "but they knew they wanted aboard a C-46. They waited around for a week and a half, but we couldn't get them aboard."
