"It's beautiful country," said Moores of the land he flies over. "You never get tired of it. You can't help but have a smile on your face when you're flying here."

Moores works six days a week, flying canoeists, biologists and tourists to remote rivers and communities, such as Tuktoyaktuk, that can only be reached by air.

His favorite passengers, he said, are the elders he has taken to bush camps near Old Crow in the spring.

"They're very nice," said Moores. "You have to eat in every camp you stop at -- 'Sit, eat!', they say. It's an insult if you don't, so you've really got to pace yourself."

The trade-off for getting paid to meet good people and flying over beautiful country is assuming responsibility for the safety of passengers and aircraft.

"It's always a job you have to think about," said Moores. "And you never want to take chances."

Not all passengers are as kind as the elders. One of Moores' pet peeves is canoeists who don't end their trips where they're supposed to. When that happens, pilots are left to search for them. More than once Moores has had to put on his waders and drag his plane to canoeists stopped at places where its impossible to land.

Carrying dog teams can also result in a little havoc.

"I picked up one team in Old Crow," recalled Moores. "The guy who owned them gave me this big stick. They started fighting, but I didn't want to use it, so I just yelled at them and opened the window, and they stopped right away."

The only drawback the job holds for Moores is that it takes him away from his wife and their two children, Jennifer, 7, and four-year old Angela. They spend their winters together in Halifax.