Floated a creek up north with a couple of friends. Only used mouse patterns. Had blue skies and a lot of fun.Life is better with dogs.Navigating the cold clear water.We caught lots of fish. They weren’t all this happy.
Having successfully caught a King Salmon on the fly, I wanted to show me friends why it is so exciting. We headed back down to Anchor River and fished until nearly midnight. Hardly needed headlamps. Unsuccessful on day one, it did not matter with a “sunset” like this.
The next day, the river was closed to fishing so we got to explore Homer and the Homer Spit. Homer is in the news lately because of the fight on immigration that it is battling.
The next day, the river was back open and we hit it early. We spent a few cold, almost dark, hours practicing our casts, and hooking and losing a couple of fish. Then it turned on. We found the right spot and the right time and we crushed it. The freezer is starting to fill.
This was my first attempt at steelhead fishing since moving to Alaska. I have been talking about it and hearing stories for a while. I was told that we should have pumpkin pie for breakfast to keep the fish gods happy.
Finally, it was time to make the four hour drive to the place I have been hearing all about, Anchor Point. Ninilchik River, Deep Creek, and the Anchor River are all on the road system and have great access. This means nothing if you don’t know anything about the area. The first stop was the world famous Fly Box.Once we had the hand drawn map (it costs extra) and the magic flies, we were on our way. The first stop was the Anchor River. Mark and I took a lot of selfies.We both caught some fish right off the bat and felt pretty good about the trip we had made. They were not however, the Steelhead that we had come looking for.Now we were in an area that they apparently don’t like people getting too close.I know why they don’t want you around. Because they really do have big fish in Anchor Point! My very first Steelhead and I could not be happier.Of course we kept fishing and kept getting luckier and luckier.
I was feeling pretty chuffed by the time #3 grabbed a hold of this magic fly.
The next day, we got up feeling like we might know what we were doing. The lack of pumpkin pie for breakfast proved us wrong. The next day, all of the fish were gone. So we left. Ready to return next year. I am starting to feel like the fish themselves. I will be returning to the same rivers around the same time each year.
We headed up the Parks Highway (names for George Parks, not Denali National Park, even though that is the direction it heads) to follow little blue lines that we had seen on Google Maps. We found a place where the power lines cross the creek. This is usually a good spot to access the water.
Many other places I have fished have lots of private property preventing a person from accessing the water. Here, you really just can’t get to the water. The bushes are too thick, the mud is too deep, and there are no trails. It is perfect. When you do get to the water, you might be on a cliff too high to fish properly. The other side of the river always seems to look better than wherever I am standing.
Plus, there is the added bonus that I am always looking over my shoulder for wildlife. Maybe something to see that is cool, maybe making sure that nothing is going to attack me. Either way, I feel like I am always looking out for something. We found a piece of water that looked like it would have some fish. The water was higher than we wanted though. It was muddy. There were hardly any bugs (except the mosquitoes). There had to be fish here.
It was too early in the season for anything salmon related. No eggs yet. No flesh unless it was left over from last year. These are meat eating trout. It was time to swing some streamers. The bigger and uglier the better.Somehow, we fooled them again. Total solitude. Hungry fish. The fear of being attacked by wildlife overcome. Mosquitoes swatted. Headed home, we felt accomplished. Rugged. Alaskan like. Bear spray safely in the car unused, we stopped by Starbucks for our usual chai lattes. We aren’t that rugged.As the fishing season starts to heat up, my heart races more and more before each adventure starts. Every time that we step outside, I am amazed at what we see.
You can skip this video if you are sick of the sunset timelapse fetish I am currently in love with. The sun just refuses to go down as you drive north during the summer.
Our next stop was Prince George. Prince George is a city. It is the 4th largest city in British Columbia. Like most of the area, lumber, oil, and mining are the major industries. This causes large swaths of forest to look empty. There is always a smell in the town. A smell that just smells industrial. It wasn’t pleasant and we didn’t want to stick around. We figured that we needed to stock up on all of our supplies because from here we would be taking the road less traveled. You see, most people head east and then north. They take the historical Alaska Canada Highway. Otherwise know as the Alcan. I am sure that it is beautiful. The fact that the whole 1400 miles was created in less than a year in amazing. But we were ready to get away from the hordes of RVs and all the people with their small dogs inside of them. Our route took us east on the Yellowed Highway to Kitawnga where we would turn north.
We had been following large rivers for most of the trip and it was fun to see the rivers I have only read about in fly fishing magazines or heard about from expensive guided trips. On our way to Kitwanga, we stopped short of Smithers at Telkwa to camp. It was another provincial park and someone seemed to be having a 19th birthday party. 20 kids, big trucks, loud music, and big fires. God, I am getting old. We drove through Houston, British Columbia and I had to take a picture with the largest fly rod in the world.
This is a Pink Salmon that I caught in Ship Creek in Anchorage, Alaska. I was trying to get away from all of the snaggers that line the bank. It was amazing to see so many fish and so many fishermen in a completely urban environment. This year the pinks will be closer to home in Puget Sound. It is fun to feel the pull of a big salmon. In just two short months I might have a few free hours to get out and catch and release a few of these bad boys.
Last #summer we took a trip to Montana. We stopped in Idaho along the way. The cutthroat trout were hungry until we saw giant submarine like chinook salmon swimming by. All the other fish hid as these giant, dark, spawning beasts returned to the hatchery nearby. I threw a few flies over their head but they were not interested in my offering. It was amazing to see these # fish hundreds of miles from the ocean. It took us a long time to drive to our destination, I cannot imagine what the salmon had to go through. At the end of the day, we had wine from WallaWalla and food cooked on our campfire. What more do you want?