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!