8-11

So the sockeye are all but done at this point and our attention has turned to silvers and rainbows, two very fun species to target. The Silvers have been pretty hit or miss so far, some people are coming back with limits, while others are lucky to get one or two fish in the boat.

My latest adventures have been focused on Quartz Creek and Crescent Creek, two beautiful little rivers teaming with dolly varden and the occasional rainbow and grayling (dad I still have yet to catch a grayling, sorry!). Quartz Creek is identical to my home water, the Middlebury River. It’s got the log jams, the undercut banks, the deep holes and everything (all it’s lacking are the lunker browns!). I’ve fished about seven miles of Quartz, from where it dumps into Kenai Lake up to where Crescent Creek flows into it. Last Friday I hit the lower section by the lake for the first time and hooked into a lake trout that was well over thirty six inches. All I had was my five weight and that fish roasted me, heading straight for a big log jam. I tried to put the brakes on him but the little five weight didn’t have enough wood to turn him and it was only a matter of seconds before he broke me off in the sticks. You better believe that When I went back two days later I was fully loaded with my new seven weight switch rod (newest love of my life). I didn’t run into the big laker but I hooked into several twenty plus inch Dollys and a beautiful little rainbow. Quartz Creek is in a small valley smack in the middle of two massive mountain ranges running more or less north and south. It is teaming with brilliantly red Sockeye salmon, and each pair of spawners has hungry Dolly Varden behind them, gorging themselves on the eggs. My best day on Quartz so far is twenty nine fish, which included one rainbow and one accidental hook-up with a Sockeye.

Crescent Creek is much smaller, much resembling the South Branch of the Ripton River. Unlike the South Branch however, you see twenty and thirty pound Kings in the pools and runs, making their way up to their spawning grounds. Crescent Creek runs out of Crescent Lake, a lake with some pretty impressive grayling fishing supposedly. One of these days I’ll hike up to the lake with the belly boat and check it out. The Dollys in Crescent Creek are generally smaller than those in Quartz, with a big one being in the fifteen inch range.

The lodge is starting to calm down now after our latest group of 67 clients, which made for an incredibly hectic week. From here on out we’re floating in the 20-35 client range, which will allow for a lot of fun trips (which means more toad rainbows!). Pretty soon we’ll be hitting Deep Creek for the steelhead run which I cannot wait for, I am told that the steelies average in the twenty seven to thirty inch mark, and I’m stoked to see how my new eleven foot seven weight switch rod handles them.

The weather is finally starting to resemble what I imagined a season in Alaska might be like. Gone are the days of t-shirts and shorts (for the most part), and I’ve been loving the chilly nights which have made for some perfect sleeping weather. It’s been raining pretty much every day, not too heavily but enough to make the Kenai murky and put a damper on the trout fishing.

It’s hard to believe that in just five days I will only have a month left of my first season in Alaska! I can’t wait to come home, eat a good steak, drink a cold Labatts, and pet the Oz Man! Dad I hope you’ve got a good location all scouted out for my tree stand when I come back, I expect nothing less than position “A”!

7/24

7/24

Today was a day of toad chasing, ripping lips on Leopard ‘bows, hunting that elusive thirty incher. I hopped in my buddy Nick's boat at 4:15, racing to Bear Creek to swing for sockeye with a family of clients, a husband and wife, three sons and good ol’ weak-in-the-knees, can hardly stand up in a foot of water, grandma. We were sockeye fishing (snagging), and the only exciting part about it was when I had to fish granny out of the water after she took a tumble. She was a trooper though, and after a hot cup of cocoa she went back to harassing fish. The sockeye were slow so we offered to take the folks trout fishing, they agreed and we were off. We split the family up into two boats – Nick and I had the father and two of the little boys, none of whom were capable of casting. My buddy Nick (an absolute trout assassin) was at the tiller and as he positioned us in the seam I would cast for the boys and then hand the rods over. Our first pass on an island tip both boys missed fish, so on our second pass I held on to each of their rods to assist in a hookset. Halfway through the run one of the rods bent over double, out of instinct I yanked up on it – knocked the poor little dude's hat off and just about gave him a bloody lip (I guess I was a little overzealous in my hookset?). He soon forgot about any pain he may have been feeling when an absolute toad of a ‘bow came clear out of the water. Nick and I looked at each other and both mouthed “holy shit!” The boat was pure chaos, with Nick and I barking orders and the dad and brother trying to help but only getting in the way. We finally got them back in their seats and I began helping the boy fight his monster trout. It gave us a great show, jumping, diving deep and dogging us, going under the boat –all the classic moves. He was hooked well however, so it was only a matter of time before we got him to the net. We fought the fish into a small set of rapids so the net job was a little squirelly as our twenty foot Fish-Rite was bucking like a bronco, but the trout's last jump landed him right in my net. We kind of sat there for a second taking everything in, all of us just staring at the fish I was keeping in the water safely in the net. The dad finally broke the ice, hitting us with “So is that a nice fish?” Nick and I looked at each other and forced smiles. The boy had just caught a twenty eight inch twelve pound rainbow trout, and had no idea what that meant. I think Nick and I both wanted to throw that dad overboard, but we patiently explained what caliber of trout his son had just landed.

                After fishing a little longer we dropped the clients off at the lodge, grabbed a quick bite, tied up some flies, and hit the river again. We picked up another guide and headed upstream on a fun trip (no clients) to some of our favorite trout holes. In the first two passes at the very first bar Nick and I both landed toads in the twenty four inch range, it was a great day to be on the water. We farmed a few big ones, caught a few “small” ones (15-19 inches) and got our adrenaline rush on by running the Naptowne Rapids a few times.
               

                When we returned to the lodge our boss asked us to go on a scouting trip to Quartz Creek to see if any of the big dollys and rainbows had moved in behind the spawning sockeye. I’m embarrassed to say it but neither Nick nor I had the motivation to fish further. Throwing a fourteen foot leader, four #7 splitshot, an articulated flesh fly and an inch and a quarter thingamabobber all day had absolutely whipped the two of us. We decided an ice cream and a case of beer sounded much more fitting and spent the rest of the evening lounging around trading stories with the guys and talking about home (something we’re all starting to miss right about now!).

                Alaska is still incredible, the fishing is only getting better as the silvers are starting to move in (I caught my first one a few days ago), and the second run kings are absolute brutes. The big rainbows are finally starting to show, double chins and all, and the dolly's are starting to move up the small tribs engulfing sockeye eggs. I haven't been doing a whole lot of traveling as I'm on the water every minute possible, but I'll try to get out and take some pictures of the beauty Alaska has to offer. 

7/6

Chubs, in reference to your questions:

"Some questions. What time of the day, night, or evening are you taking those pictures that look like dawn or dusk? Did you eat that salmon roe, or use it for bait? If you are using Bait now, and not Flies, and you are a Master Guide. What does that make you? And last but most important. If last call is at 5:00 am, what time is first call? Don't worry about Ozzie. He has his own fan in three different rooms, and gets first pick of the showers. Bobby was wondering if you have met any of the people from the indigenous tribes in the area? Nice job with those young lads. They wont forget those fish. 
Be good,
Dad

The pictures that look like dawn/dusk were taken anywhere from 10pm-1am. It's now starting to get dark enough around 2:30am that you'll want a flashlight when you stumble walk back from the bar.

We ate the roe, I had an awesome client show me a bunch of ways to prepare caviar. Tasty but I still haven't gotten over the texture. (We cure any roe not eaten for bait)

Yes, if I were a master guide using bait and not flies I would be considered a "Masterbaiter". Well played, old man.

First call is at 1pm, but while I have been known to shut the place down on occasion - I have yet to open it.

Stayed out late tonight fishing and landed my biggest Red to date, thought it was a little king for a while. We've also been getting into pinks the last few days, which is fun because they don't technically run this year (every other year on even years).

A bear is in camp, all the trash was thrown around the past two mornings - so that makes things interesting.

Not a whole lot of new stuff to report besides that.

A few "highlights of the day"

A product of the Kenai Twitch (it's not as dark as it looks)

Chromer dolly

7/3

I just realized that I've left one BIG thing out of my blog, the very reason I decided to come to Alaska… the fish! The fishing has had its highs and lows, in early June it was pretty phenomenal thanks to a gigantic run of early sockeye that lasted unusually long – it then petered out and is now almost back in full swing.

                The sockeye are an interesting fish, and one I have a love-hate relationship with. In the beginning of the first sockeye run I loved them; these fish fight hard and are incredibly acrobatic. They’ll make several runs, jump a half-dozen times and have the most deep red and delicious meat in the river. So far the quickest I’ve been able to get a sockeye out of the river and into my mouth has been about twenty two minutes, and it simply doesn’t get fresher than that. By the end of the first sockeye run I hated the fish, couldn't have cared if I never saw another sockeye again. The massive amounts of Advil I consumed towards the end of the sockeye run brought me back high school football, and icing my shoulder and elbow was a daily activity. The “Sockeye Swing” (also called the Kenai Twitch, Russian Rip, Flossing, the Twerk n’ Jerk, Shnatching, or – more accurately, snagging) had taken its toll on me. If you don’t know what “flossing sockeye” is take a minute to “youtube” it, and while you’re at it search “combat fishing on the Russian River.” I always thought that fishing was supposed to be relaxing and was about peace and serenity – that was until I experienced combat fishing. I've lost track of the number of times myself or a client have almost started a brawl because some diddler thought it would be acceptable to stand three feet away from me and fish in my hole. A week or so after the sockeye left I was begging them to come back: it was hot, the fishing was slow, and I was feeling very deprived of the tug that is the drug.

The first run kings were also a trip, and I got schooled and spooled by my fair share of fifty plus pound fish. I did have one absolute monster that I chased a mile downstream and fought for just over fifty minutes, the fifth time I got him to the leader he broke off. When he broke the line I cried a little, and began walking the most defeated one mile walk back to the lodge. The kings have been slow for a while now, in fact the state shut the season down early a couple weeks ago (it just started back up the other day), and we will hopefully get a big second run of toad kings.

The Kenai Leopard ‘Bows are the true gem of the peninsula, with the possibility of hooking into a thirty five inch rainbow being very real. I was talking to a state fisheries biologist on the river who told me that they had a forty two inch rainbow in one of their fish traps (he even told me what mile marker the fish trap was next to… You can guess where my ass was parked for the next week). The Leopard ‘Bows are capable of putting on six pounds in a single season; they feed on nothing but salmon flesh and salmon eggs – pure protein. Because of that these fish are absolute freaks, just when you think you’ve got a fish whipped he makes his fourth run and you find yourself deep in your backing. I’ve never heard so much drag peeling in my life, and let me tell you I could get used to it – a screaming reel is such a sweet, sweet sound.

Apart from rainbows and salmon we’ve got dollies, lots and lots of chromer dollies. They are a beautiful fish, but don’t fight worth a damn. A twenty incher will try to dog a dude and stay deep for ten seconds or so before giving up and commencing some sort of inefficient death roll. I can’t wait for the dollies to start turning into their spawning colors, they change from chrome to fall foliage and are one of the prettiest fish in the river.

I also foul-hooked one whitefish – it was very anticlimactic and was quite an ugly little bro. If I never catch another one in my life I will be content.

Wednesday is my day off and I will be hiking into Fuller Lake chasing grayling! I have yet to catch a grayling and can’t wait to cross it off the list – plus the hike it supposed to be pretty epic so as long as the bears chill out (evidently there are a lot of bears in this area? Let the wrastlin’ begin…) I’ll have a nice little Wednesday. I’ve been making a killing in tips so I bought a new camera (don’t worry Mom I am being impressively frugal considering the incredible deals I get with my new guide discount) and will break it in on the hike!

During the day I am fishing or napping, that is my routine. The nights however, they are interesting. Things gets weird after dark (proverbial darkness – it doesn’t get dark) in Alaska. I’ve managed to find a healthy balance of staying responsible while having one hell of a time up here. Fishing guides are a fun group of dudes I’ve learned, we work early and hard, and we party late and hard. There is a bar called Moosesquitoes just down the road and within walking distance of our lodge, and with free pool, darts, and foosball - it’s a pretty incredible place. For anyone who experienced good old Unwinders back home – think bigger, arguably trashier, rowdier with way better people watching, a much lower tooth-to-person ratio, and a last call coming at 5:00 am. I’ll take pictures and probably videos. I have many stories to tell a select few of my blog followers (everyone except my parents and grandparents - who do not need any more gray hairs).  

Dudes, miss you – I hope the Cape was a blast and you represented us well without my responsible self present to guide you all (Also I hope you said hello to Melon or Coconut or Pineapple  or whatever that bartender’s name was at the bar we got kicked out of last year for me). Gruner I hope you didn’t miss every single striper that hit your fly and get out-fished by Keating like last year. Keating, I really hope that stupid car you sent me a picture of isn’t actually yours, no matter how fitting it would be. Coop, the wheels that are Mountain Springs Maple Co. are turning (we can work on the name if you wish). Knutsack, don’t kill yourself on that bike you big overgrown goon. Big Dawg, miss you man. Groggy Sunday mornings just aren’t the same without your auburn hair and awful jokes (mostly about Gruner’s shnoz) that hit my even worse sense of humor just right. Leon, I think we all blame the Bruins losing on your recent unfaithfulness. That’s a big burden to bear, do you sleep well at night?.  Steveguy, have you found a cure for cancer yet? Fish, miss you lots you weirdo – our D.C. anniversary is coming up - know that I’ll be thinking of the Enola Gay (no shot did I spell that correctly). Patchy, I can’t wait to see what business you’re CEO of by the time I get back in September. Tuna, thanks for answering your phone, calling me back, and spilling the beans on the cell service I may or may not have. I’m quickly getting cold feet about having you as a business partner. Danebro, I'm missing your Thai cooking. Von Percy, hope all is well my dude. Well boys I have yet to let “Tuesday’s Gone” play fully. I still have to change it when it comes on the radio or skip it on my itunes. Can’t wait for the rendezvous – the beers and tears will be a’flowin! Big love to you all.  

Mom, Dad and Hal, you better be pampering my dog and heeding his every beck and call. If I get home and find out that the Oz Man has been neglected in any way, there’s gonna’ be trouble. If there’s any chance of a thunderstorm there needs to be a dog bed in each of the showers so he can hide out in comfort until the thunder is over. You should also start giving him one extra cracker with peanut butter at each meal, and before he goes to bed. Love you all!

I miss Vermont and all you goons I left behind, but am having the experience of a lifetime and am trying to make the most of every day up here. If I have a free day and don’t want to fish there are dozens of trips I can take through the lodge at no cost and I am doing my best to see every bit of Alaska possible (“google” Kenai Fjords cruise – unreal.) Dad I have yet to visit the Salty Dawg in Homer, but rest assured I’ll go through the trouble and agony of sampling their beer as per your request. Speaking of beer, the Alaskan Brewing Company is overrated and my favorite Alaskan beer to date is the Twister Creek IPA made by the good folks at Denali Brewing Company. If you’re ever in the area be sure to try some. 

Cheers from Alaska!

Sorry for the wait

So the last month has been pretty hectic, as is evident by my lack of blogging. However I cannot blame my nonexistent updates on the amount of fishing I have been doing per say.

Week one at the lodge was a blast, I met a lot of like-minded folks who for the most part love fishing, adventure and the out of doors. Setting up camp was strenuous but rewarding, lots of carpentry, electrical, and plumbing work was needed as the Alaskan winters take quite a toll on the buildings here. The weather was cold that first week, and frozen waterlines were a daily nuisance (we would keep them dripping overnight but folks would think we were wasting water and turned them off). There were no fish in the river that first week. I came to this conclusion after not catching anything within my first three casts and having my guides freeze solid. I thought you weren't supposed to worry about frozen guides any time after April? I guess Alaska says “nay nay”.

I got quite the surprise that first Friday afternoon when the lodge owner came up to me and told me I would be flying to our out-camp, called Bear Camp for two weeks to set it up. Bear camp used to be a fishing camp, but has now been converted into a bear viewing lodge and is located on the outskirts of Lake Clark National Park, in Chinitna Bay. I was ecstatic, as I had only heard good things about Bear Camp from those I worked with and couldn’t wait to see my first coastal brown bear.   

I flew out of Soldotna in a Sesna 207 (I think?) crossing the Cook Inlet and going over some of the most rugged terrain I have ever laid eyes on. I left the Kenai Peninsula wearing a flannel and jeans, and as I went over the snow covered mountains and frozen lakes I quickly realized I would be cold upon landing. Prior to this trip I had never been in a bush plane, nor had I ever experienced a beach landing - both were bumpy and exciting, and filled me with adrenaline.  That first day we decided to only set up our personal wall tents and then go explore the property. How did I like my tent you ask? Well, interestingly enough I didn’t get one. I was told that someone had to sleep in the kitchen (a small cabin) every night with a shotgun in case the bears tried to get into the food, and it didn’t take me long to realize that I had been volunteered to be “that guy” for the full two weeks.  I was given a mattress, a 12 gauge, a can of bear spray, an air horn, and a “good luck.”

Over the course of two week we set up many wall tents, rebuilt decks, walkways and bear viewing platforms, and had a great time. I saw upwards of eighty bears, more eagles than I could count, and fell asleep to the sound of wolves howling. 

I have many stories of bear camp, I had a bear run after me while on the four wheeler, I bathed in a glacial-fed stream that was thirty three degrees, I “noodled” a cod, clammed on the flats, was chased by nesting ravens, and helped prevent a forest fire. Maybe I’ll go into depth on these adventures someday when the fishing is slow…

5/15

Good morning folks,

sorry I was not able to update you all on the rest of my flights yesterday, we were delayed on the first plane which meant I was running to catch the last two flights.

The first flight was fine for a while, and then we hit a LOT of turbulence, which pissed me right off. After ten or fifteen minutes of white-knuckling it we finally managed to find a patch of sky not hell-bent on making me shit myself (Sorry mom).

The second flight can be summed up in one conversation:

“His name was Travis and he was the President of Yale at the time, so I called him PrezTrav, or TravPrez depending on the day, get it haha, get it!? Ahh it cracks me up, PrezTrav. I came up with it you know. He loves it.”

^ That was the guy I sat next to on the six hour flight to Seattle, Washington. ‘Nuff said.

After I got off the plane and away from that weirdo I was standing in the boarding line waiting to get on my last flight out of Seattle, all of a sudden I hear "Asa? Asa!" I thought, oh cool there's another person with my name, looked around and it's my buddy Harper from St. Mikes. It's incredible how small the world really is! He was headed up to a wedding I believe, and to do some fishing and sea kayaking for the week.

There really may be a god somewhere up there however, because on my last flight from Seattle to Anchorage I sat next to an incredible man whom had just retired from active duty. The whole plane was packed, but no one claimed the seat in between myself and this gentleman, so he set his iPad up in the middle seat and we watched fishing videos the entire flight. He told me many spots to fish in the Anchorage area, gave me a list of places I had to go while in Alaska, and only tried to recruit me to the military once (Mom, I said no thank you).

The last flight was truly incredible, when we left Seattle it was pitch black, and after two hours of napping I looked out the window and saw what I thought to be a beautiful sunrise. Wrong, we had been chasing the sunset and had finally caught up to it, as we kept getting close to Anchorage – it kept getting lighter. Flying into Anchorage was incredible, the first thing I could see on the horizon were two massive mountains poking out of the clouds. As we dropped through the cloud cover and approached the Cook Inlet all I could see were incredible mountains with lots of snow, and lakes and ponds that were frozen solid. I was not pumped to see that.

Chasing the sunset!

When I first woke up after leaving Seattle

A little closer to Anchorage..

By the time we landed in Anchorage it was very light (definitely legal shooting hours, Royce). 

I made it to my hotel at around 11:50 pm my time (4 hours behind) the sun didn’t set until 12:30 am, and was back up around 3:00 am. It really is the land of the midnight sun, and is not conducive to sleep. It was a little chilly, but nothing unbearable - I think somewhere in the upper forties,  but the wind was warm which was a pleasant surprise. 

I get picked up from my hotel at 2:00 pm and then it’s off to the Kenai and my home until the fall! I’m hoping to be able to update this once a week but be patient with me in case I decide to go fishing instead of going to town to get internet (so unlike me, I know).

Cheers,

Asa

5/14

Welcome to the first of many blog entries! I am currently hanging out in the airport waiting to board my first connecting flight (to IAD) which is set to take off around 2:30pm. If all goes smoothly I will arrive in Anchorage, AK early tomorrow morning, being greeted by a balmy 32 degrees.

Well, time to board!

I will love and miss you Vermont!