Pilot hopes to share lessons learned from surviving plane crash in Quebec wilderness
Search and rescue technician says Matt Lehtinen's survival was impressive, lucky
A tree punched through the cabin of Matt Lehtinen's plane after it fell from the sky — becoming just one of many moments where he realized just how lucky he is to be alive.
"I heard a loud bang and out of the corner of my left eye, I saw a tree come right through the fuselage," Lehtinen said. "It was actually so close to me it ripped my shorts."
Lehtinen had just deployed the parachute attached to his single-engine plane — a feature exclusive to the American-made Cirrus series.
Twenty minutes into his flight over a remote and densely forested part of Quebec's North Shore, readings on his oil and engine temperature had gone awry.
Lehtinen's struggle on July 27 became widely known in Quebec because he documented parts of it, edited the video and posted it to YouTube.
In the video, dramatic effects and music highlight his emotions. A rescue plane is seen flying above the thick forest canopy and Lehtinen chokes up at the sight.
Over the phone, though, his tone is calm and subdued, the voice of a learned professional. Lehtinen says he hopes sharing what happened to him and the lessons he gained may help other pilots in the future.
That day Lehtinen was flying from one of the mines the company he works for owns in Labrador back home to Grand Rapids, Minnesota.
Everything seemed fine with the airplane when he inspected it before his 9 a.m. takeoff at the Wabush, NL airport.
'Deep down I knew something was wrong'
But the faulty readings less than an hour later meant he would need to come up with solutions fast. He radioed Montreal to divert to the nearest airport — Sept-Îles, a 25-minute flight away.
"I was hopeful that I would make it to Sept-Îles, but deep down I knew something was wrong."
Then with a loud, grinding racket the engine stopped. Quiet. Thick forest and a body of water below.
Lehtinen manoeuvred the descending aircraft to avoid the lake below. At about 600 metres above the ground, he pulled the parachute and hoped for the best. He barely got out in time.
"I'll never forget the sight, looking back at the airplane from 20 metres away, seeing the tree sticking through it," Lehtinen said.
A vision burned into memory
"I could still hear the electrical hum of my instruments and hear the strobe light flashing. And that scene, sitting in the middle of a dense forest, is a vision that is burned into my memory."
After those adrenaline-fuelled moments, trying to stay alive would be a trial stretching through hours.
Once he was confident the plane wouldn't explode, he scrambled to get enough reception to contact search and rescue teams.
He spotted a hill from which he could send SOS messages and contact friends and family.
But the tall trees, mossy forest floor and constant swarm of flies made even a small hill a difficult hike. It was hot and muggy but Lehtinen threw on warm clothes to protect his skin from the bugs.
He decided to start filming as he waited, feeling "very compelled to document the experience." It also helped him stay "calm and focused on the next steps in terms of ensuring my survival."
Some time later, he heard the loud grumble of an airplane above. It circled over and disappeared. Lehtinen understood the crew still hadn't located him. He hiked back to the airplane, dug out some matches in his survival kit and lit a fire, using the fragrant moss to create more smoke.

Soon, the yellow Royal Canadian Air Forces search and rescue helicopter arrived from Nova Scotia and two rescuers dropped down.
Nicolas Brouard and his partner were clad in orange suits and wore bug nets around their faces. Lehtinen remembers them looking surprised to see he was all in one piece.
"I was honestly really impressed," Brouard told CBC. "I told him that he's lucky."
"Plane crashes are more than often unfortunately a bad outcome, but in this case everything was in line: the parachute, the fact that he had a GPS and some surviving skills, and a bit of luck as well."
Brouard says survival gear can make "the difference between living and dying."
A happy ending after series of fatal crashes
In July only, another single-engine plane crash killed three people in Baie-James; three men remain missing after the crash of an Air Saguenay float plane that killed at least four of the seven passengers; and the CEO of Savoura, Stéphane Roy, and his 14-year-old son were found dead following the crash after Roy's helicopter went down.
For Lehtinen, the main takeaways are that recreational pilots calculate the risk of flying over remote terrain, including the implications of parachuting into it — and to have not only some survival gear, but enough of it.
Lehtinen says he lacked water and other supplies that would have been essential, had he been stuck in the woods any longer.
As he was pulled up into the helicopter inside a basket-like structure, Lehtinen felt "a mixture of excitement, anticipation and relief."
He saw the boreal forest stretch out beneath his feet, noticing the beauty of the wilderness that had swallowed his plane, but not him.
"I was actually quite taken aback by how beautiful the view was." The immensity of what had just happened started to sink in, and the gratitude.
"It's hard to digest even the amount of resources and effort that goes into a rescue like this," he said.
Brouard says, all told, as many 100 people were involved in Lehtinen's rescue.
At the end of the video, a written thank-you to search-and-rescue and law enforcement appears onscreen: "you are my heroes, and you saved my life. Sincerely: A Grateful American. Un Américain vous exprimant mes remerciements les plus sincères."

Lehtinen says he hasn't felt symptoms of PTSD, or experienced flashbacks so far.
"It's been an intense period of reflecting on family, on really what's important in life."
Re-watching the video has reinforced his hope that it will have a positive impact on the aviation community.
Just days after the crash, he and his family were back in Quebec on a scheduled vacation. They've been visiting relatives and the more urban landmarks our province has to offer.
Based on a interview by Quebec AM host Marika Wheeler