SOMBA K'E/YELLOWKNIFE - "Overshoot! Overshoot! Overshoot!"

A violent wind shear has come up on the approach to Tulita, threatening to wreak havoc as a plane approaches the short airstrip. In a split-second decision, two pilots turn the plane around, unable to land.

That's the television show based on Buffalo Airways, but on a recent trip to Deline, Norman Wells and Tulita, there was no near-death experiences, no mechanical failures, no relationship-ending blow outs. Shocking, perhaps, to the thousands of viewers of the History Television series Ice Pilots NWT, which debuted in November as the highest-rated Canadian show ever on the cable channel.

Yellowknifer had a little trepidation after watching the first episodes. Freak accidents? Check. Close call landings? Check. Frozen gear? Obviously.

Despite the blistering cold and the distinctive World War II-era planes, the routine trip up to the Mackenzie Valley might be unremarkable to audiences accustomed to Northern aviation, maybe even mundane.

The tight, toilet-less quarters of the Curtiss C-46 isn't your typical film set. To start with, the windows are kept open when the plane is grounded so the glassed-in cockpit doesn't frost up - not exactly Hollywood-esque luxury in - 40 C temperatures.

Sure, the sturdy planes have defied decades of wear and tear but there's a premium on leg room and no in-flight service.

On a late-December flight, the plane was jammed with more than 12,000 lbs of cargo - boxes of groceries, holiday care packages and crates packed to capacity - making it a lifeline to the remote communities.

Back at Buffalo's hanger in Yellowknife, there's no catchy soundtrack as the pilots, ramp crews and support staff report to work hours before dawn in anticipation of a long day of shipping goods, people and food across the North. Ratings aren't on the minds of the people packing cargo, arranging routes and flying planes.

But the show must go on. This week, film crews reported back after a Christmas hiatus; filming has already resumed on season two of the show.

So what's it like being a reality television star?

"Being quasi, low-budget famous?" quips pilot Scott Blue.

Blue and the plane's captain, A. J. Decoste, shrug their shoulders as the C-46 heads back to Yellowknife. After all, food needs to be delivered and they were doing their jobs before cameras started rolling.

Cockpit animosity? Not so much.

Both Blue and Decoste say people are supportive, interested and friendly, maybe a few extra hellos from strangers and the occasional overly enthusiastic greetings from an acquaintance.

So far there are no rabid fans - minus a few unexpected Facebook messages and at least one handwritten letter from a female admirer.

And what's it like being under the scrutiny of a camera crew looking for a good angle, a good storyline?

"It changes things a little," says Decoste. "You have to be careful how you present yourself .. You say one embarrassing thing and you might not be happy about it but you can be sure they'll include it."

Nothing is contrived says Blue, at most they're asked to repeat a line for another camera.

"It all happens, they don't make anything up," he says, adding sometimes the questioning after-the-fact gets a little tiresome but usually, it's a fun process.

With roughly 100 hours going into one hour of television, there's a lot of downtime, routine landings, cruising, good weather, mindless conversations and business-as-usual that comes before the drama of television.

That doesn't phase the crew.

"The cameramen are always digging for a story. We have to keep them in check a bit so they don't make it seem like the world is coming to an end when it's just normal," says Decoste. "Our job is to make everything standard operating procedure ... From my point of view, a dull day is a good day."

Roger that.