AK 2010 : Sierra Delta - Search and Destroy

As Brian's week came to a close, it was time to get down to business and try and fulfill all the dreams Brian had of his first trip to Alaska. We shifted from the Chena back into the rain on the Kenai Peninsula, picking up some salmon and rainbows along the way.

The first stop on the Kenai was Quartz Creek, an excellent Dolly Varden fishery. Like everything else, it was high and off-color, but Brian quickly ticked a nice Dolly buck off of his hit list.

Then the focus shifter to Sockeye Salmon, and we muscled in a few of the monsters the Kenai is known for. The run wasn't shaping up as expected however, and fresh fish just weren't showing their faces. Eventually the discussion turned to bears, and lets face it, they are one of the appeals of fishing in Alaska. Brian had yet to see one, only their signs, and with all of the fish species he was after being caught, the focus shifted their way.

The Russian River is well known for its bear population, and if you're high in the gorge at 'bear o'clock' in the evening, odds are pretty good you'll have some company on the river. So upriver we headed, looking for some of the large resident Rainbows that call the Russian home, but keeping a watchful eye out for furry company.

I spotted what I thought was a couple Rainbows, but to my surprise on further inspection it ended up being a small school of very fresh Sockeye making a run upstream. We quickly changed our rigs over to target them, and before long we had the pool exploding with the trademark jumps and runs a fighting Sockeye is known for.

The stringer was filling up, and Brian was excited to be able to send some fish back home to VT for his wife and kids. As he headed out for his last fish to limit out, he glanced upstream and quickly realized we weren't the only ones fishing the run. Somebody once told me in regard to the bears in Alaska to remember that 'you're fishing in their refrigerator.' And that's pretty much how it is. Give them their space, they'll give you yours, and if you overstep your bounds and reach for their last favorite beer, you might get your hand slapped.

To be serious though, they are incredible, powerful creatures that deserve our respect. Be smart and know how to conduct yourself in bear country. Bears on the Russian are used to seeing humans, and they may charge you to push you off, claim your stringer, steal your backpack, or potentially worse. Be aware and conduct yourself accordingly.

We kept tabs on our friend as it came towards us, and after Brian hit his limit and we got some last photos, it was time to concede our spot. We quickly packed up our fish and headed downstream. The 'bear o'clock' timer had stopped ticking, and we had some more company before hitting the main trail, cleaning our fish, and eventually up and out of the gorge. We arrived back at camp a little tired, a little wet, a little hungry, but with big smiles. Mission accomplished.

Just another day on a river in Alaska.....

AK 2010: Seeking Clarity on the Chena

Did I mention it was REALLY wet in Alaska this year? Well, it was, and when you're living in a car or tent, and standing in a river all day anyways, being dry becomes a simple luxury. With many of the rivers on the Parks Highway system being blown out and too high for productive fishing, we decided it was time to check out other options.

My friend Brian had come up to join me for a week and get a taste of what Alaska has to offer. Being completely new to fly fishing, I really wanted to get him onto fish early, and get some good traditional fly casting practice. We had already found some trout, salmon and Grayling on other rivers, so we decided to stay focused on them for a couple days. I love fishing for Arctic Grayling in Alaska -- and their attributes of being aggressive feeders who can't resist dry flies, beauty, and fondness for clean, clear rivers, make them an excellent sport fish, and an excellent quarry for beginning and experienced fly fisherman alike.

One of the aspects of summer weather in Alaska is that the Northern interior tends to be warmer and drier than Southern or Coastal areas. A bit counter intuitive since one tends to think the high tundra and mountains of the interior being cold and harsh, but it's not always the case.

And thus, in an effort to confirm that the sun still actually existed, and remember what dry clothes felt like, we headed North, past Denali and Fairbanks to the Chena River to try and find some of its resident Grayling. The Chena was once a premier trophy Grayling fishery, but overfishing resulted in a demise of the fishery in the 80's. Luckily, management and catch-and-release policies have restored the quality and reputation of this beautiful river.

Our target was the upper river, and after a long drive, a few moose, and some scouting, we found a quiet bend in the river to make some casts, pitch a tent, and settle in for the night. We managed a few fish, and eventually I got Brian out of the river. He was a man on a mission, making perfect loops and settling into life on a riverbank.

The next morning we were greeted by a warm sun shining through some of the clearest water I ever seen. A little more scouting and hiking, and we found the large, beautiful Grayling the Chena is known for. It seemed like every pool, log, undercut bank, or overhanging brush that should hold a fish, did. Singles here and there at first, but eventually, we found a classic pool, crystal clear, deep in the front, against a long undercut bank, complete with logs, and a tapered tail-out. There, in classic Grayling formation, you could see the large shadows we were looking for, lined up by hierarchy, waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting dry fly we were glad to cast their way. It's not everywhere you can watch a fish rise from that deep, locked onto your fly, building anticipation for the connection to come.

Maybe my eyes weren't used to the sun, but the fish were notably more gold than those I have caught in other watersheds. Their blues glistened against that gold, and the vivid red spots in the trademark dorsal fins of the mature males are forever imprinted in my mind.

I can't speak for Brian, but that smile looks like the face of contentment to me.

AK 2010: Watermaster

The first thing I like to do when I hit terra firma in AK is scout, see what the rivers are doing, figure out where the fish are, and make a plan. Usually that means on foot, but this year I arrived with a great new tool in the toolbag - a Watermaster Kodiak from Big Sky Inflatables.

I meant to bring one along on my last trip, and regretted it on a few occasions as it really would have created an option to access some water just not possible on foot. Not wanting to go down that road again this year, I got a hold of the guys at Watermaster and we made it happen.

Now, I'm all about kayak fishing in my Jackson Kayak Day Tripper, but one of the downfalls of kayaks is definitely in transport logistics, particularly when you're on your own in remote areas. Whether it's the need for a roof rack, carrying them long distances, checking them on commercial airlines, or finding room in float planes or heli's, it just gets complicated, impractical, or down right impossible.

Most of those logistical complications are solved with a Watermaster, and it really is an excellent exploratory and fishing tool, and an absolute blast to row. Packed up in the dry backpack, complete with oars, extra dry bag, life jacket, pump and repair kit, mine weighed in at 49.5 lbs -- just under the commercial airliner weight limit, so you can check it as normal luggage. Once on the ground in AK, it's just as easy to throw in a luggage rack, float, or cabin area in float planes or helis, or the backseat of a car. You just can't get away with that with a 12 ft kayak.

During my time alone, I typically drove to the take-out of a roadside run like the Kenai, hiked to the main road with the Watermaster and daypack for the day, stuck out my thumb, and waited for a good Samaritan to shuttle me upstream. Once there, unpack, pump up, climb on and shove off for a fun day of rowing.

With the open front, area, it's easy to just put your feet down and slowly walk your way down through good runs. Hit a good area, and you can just walk your way back upstream with it bouncing around your legs like a float tube. I often found myself turning around and sitting on the rowing foot strap on deeper runs, slowly 'bouncing' my way down slightly deeper runs, where I wanted to slow down but focus on casting, then turning back around into the seat once it got too deep. It also makes for a great area to handle fish while keeping them in the water.

While the Watermaster is great for getting you into the smallest of fishing spaces, one incredibly fun, but very difficult, challenge it creates is landing BIG fish, while trying to row yourself, control the fish, and fight the river. A kind of one man drift boat fishing. A technique I honed was to cast, hold the rod between my knees, and row myself to set a good drift. With a little practice, I figured out how to mend the line with a knee flick to extend the drift. The hard part really begins when a big fish takes your fly. Little guys you can kind of play, row yourself to the bank while fighting them with the boat, beach yourself and land the fish. Not so with the powerful ones, or if you're in an area where beaching the raft isn't possible. Once they take, you have to quickly set the hook, try not to let them break your rod, assess the river, and make a plan --- quick.

It took some practice and I definitely lost the game more than I won, but what a fun challenge. In the end the technique I found best to open the drag up almost all the way, and pinch off a small bit of line between my knees while rowing. Upon a take, you can kind of set the hook, then hold tension with your knees. If the rod buckles over and spins you around, odds are it's a fish with some power, and you can open your knees a bit and let it pull line freely while you make a plan and find somewhere to land. Having plenty of backing helps of course. Once you land, keep the rod low, line in the water, and let the river keep tension on your fish.

If you're lucky, when you collect it all back in, you might still feel a fish on the other end, like that Dolly in the photo. One of the most memorable fish I've fought, caught with my knees :)

AK 2010: Coming Around The Bend

I think there is a primal need in many of us to explore, at least in my case, I know there is. A need to see what's around the next bend, and maybe more importantly, embracing not knowing what's around the next bend, because there will always be, a 'next bend'.

Alaska was a place that I embraced from the moment I felt the gravel move under my boot years ago . I just can't seem to get enough of it, the rivers, and the true wilderness and wildlife that call it home. Plans came together for me once again, and another incredible trip to Alaska unfolded during August and early September. It was time to see some bends.

Over the coming months I'll be doing various updates and telling stories from the trip. There are just too many to try and fit into a couple posts, but a few general photos are included here. I had time alone, time with friends, time with Dad, and for the first time, time with my brother, sharing some of the special places I have come to love. I still have yet to get Ash up there, but, I'm working on it, and it's just a matter if time. There were lots of new rivers, lots of rain drops, lots of fish, lots of mystery tugs on the end of the line that will forever remain unknown, lots of bears, lots of knots tied, lots of knots broken, and lots of footsteps and nights under the stars engrained into memory. I floated around countless bends, hiked around them, wondered what was around the next one, and turned and contently walked away from them, as it should be.

It was a very wet year, setting a new record of 31 consecutive days of measurable rain in Anchorage. That cut down the number of starry nights for sure, and this meant high water conditions were the norm, water was colder than normal, salmon runs were off and less predictable, and life in general was soggy. Luckily we live in a time where good gear really can make the weather a non-factor, and this was a year that definitely put it to an ultimate test.

I don't yet know when I'll go back again, but I'll do my best. I know there are a few more bends waiting to be turned.

Stay tuned.

D

Kingdom Trails

After getting back home to VT, we wanted to keep the wheels rollin' and take advantage of nice weather and the world class mountain biking available here. The 'Kingdom Trails', up in the Northeast corner of VT are a very well developed trail network, complete with B&B's right on the trail. Ash and I set out to finish the Fourth of July weekend at the Inn at Mountain View farm to see what the hype was all about.

It ended up being a scorching weekend, but with a nice evening breeze on the mountain tops, and views that went on for miles, we weren't complaining.

As we had heard, the trails were very well marked and maintained. We got in a little over our heads a couple of times with the bruises to show for it, but that's gravity for you.

NRG

NRG - The New River Gorge - is hands down, one of the best playgrounds on Earth. With world class rock climbing, world class paddling, mountain biking, base jumping, great food, great people and a fun town, it's pretty much got it all.

It's where I have recorded more than one 'Perfect Day' -- paddle the Gorge solo early before all the rafts put on, get picked up by Doc at the take-out and go rock climbing all day, paddle the Gorge again in the evening with Doc to get the sweat of the day off, go have a great dinner at the Sedona Grille, camp, repeat. Yep, that's pretty much perfect.

When I first got down to Marion, typical high Spring waters were ripping through the Gorge, so I had to see what old friends were still in Fayetteville. Sure enough, my friend Bryan Kirk, always eager to go paddle and THROW DOWN, was around and ready to go. That's him getting inverted at Surprise. Just typing this, and thinking about the high-water boof at the top of Double-Z, makes me smile. Ah, the sound the hull makes ----- TTHHHHHUUUUMMMPPPBBB. Can't beat it!!!

Before I leave that area, I always finish with a run down the Gorge. By the end of the summer, typical low water conditions had set in, and most of my friends were out of town on the competition circuit. Luckily, it's a paddling town, and we're a friendly lot, and Doc had crossed path with a local paddler, Elizabeth, a fan of Jackson Kayak who was eager to paddle. Always one to meet new paddlers and make new friends, we met up and I headed down the river with her, JBob, Dot and Todd. The New has a bunch of little hidden playspots, and I was happy to introduce them to the 'Splat Room' -- an awesome little boulder/cave that is set up perfect for rock splats, splat wheels, cartwheels to splats, loops to splats, whatever flavor of splat you like really. After a few tries, Dot dialed in her first splat with cheers from us all and celebration ensued.

After I got home, Elizabeth shared the pics (Thanks!), and had this to say -- "Thanks for your help with my flatwater looping.....I love the sounds it makes! "

That's what it's all about right there. Making friends and making smiles.

D

Good 'Ol Times in 'Nawrrs'

The 'Nawrrs', or Narrows, VA, is small town in Southwest, VA on the New River. It's where I spent a few Co-Op semesters during my time at Clemson, where I really started rock climbing hard, where I learned to kayak, and where I met two incredible friends, Ralph and Doc.

Ralph and Doc are pretty much the center of the outdoor lifestyle in their small town, definitely having 'been there, done that' for pretty much anything you can think of, and probably more you can't. They were the first people I called when I found out about my temporary assignment in Marion, and Ash could see the excitement in my eyes as I began packing and telling old stories. I couldn't wait for them to meet her.

They don't spend as much time on the water and rock as they used to, and have become big mountain bikers now. I've never been one who favors wheels, but after a few weeks, and with trails right out my cabin door in Hungry Mother, a mountain biker I became.....or, at least a mountain crasher. I'm still working on that....luckily Doc (a chiropractor, check that, THE chiropractor) was there to straighten me out each time I came up with a mouthful of leaves and dirt.

It was great catching up with them over the months. Ralph met a great biking gal, Lori, and before we headed home, had the pleasure of attending their wedding at their cabin in Narrows. Ash made a furry friend, and afterwards we hiked up 'Ralph's Trail' -- about 2.5 miles of single track that Ralph has single handedly cut up 1500 ft of the mountain behind his house to link it to a larger trail network. I've always called him the human mule, and this just proves it.

Another highlight was finally getting Ash in a whitewater kayak down the river! She loves the flatwater, but isn't much for the white variety. Ralph and I told her how great this section was for beginners -- it's where I learned, deep, warm water, Class II, straight forward big water rapids, perfect for learning with no real consequences of a swim. Big Bubbles, No Troubles!

I put her in our new creeker, the Jackson Kayak Villain S. The same qualities that make it an excellent Class V steep creeker --- stability, speed, tracking ability, comfort, easy to roll, etc, also make it an excellent beginner boat. When you're first learning to paddle a whitewater boat, which aren't really designed to go straight, you always feel like you are spinning out all the time from subtle differences in paddle strokes and weight transfers. After a few of these 'burnouts', Ash had the tracking down and took right to it, nailing the lines and even cracking a few smiles.

If you're ever in Narrows, look up Doc and Ralph, they'll show you some of the incredible outdoor adventures the area has to offer.

Giddy Up Grayson

Mt. Rogers, in Grayson Highlands State Park, about an hour from Marion, was one of my favorite places to spend time during Co-op sessions in college. The highest point in VA, it has a resident herd of wild ponies, and is a favorite section of hikers heading North on the Appalachian Trail. Part of the deal with this new contract assignment was to allow for Ash to come down a couple times a month and telecommute to her job here in VT. So, early on I knew I wanted to take her up there to see the ponies and hike one of the most scenic sections of the AT.

I used love to go up and camp near the summit during ice storms in the Fall to test new gear for the upcoming winter. The summit ridges are exposed and get absolutely hammered in big storms -- aside from Mt. Washington, it's the only place on the East Coast where I've been physically blown off my feet.

Luckily Ash had blue skies and plentiful ponies. We were there just after birthing, and had a few shaky youngsters hanging around, getting used to life in the high country.

Marion Mountain Madness

OK, been a while since my last update since I've been pretty mobile the last 6 months or so, so it's time for a bit of a flashback sequence to catch up.

I took a work assignment for 3 months down in Marion, VA -- right near some old paddling and climbing haunts from college. I found a local cabin available to rent at Hungry Mother State Park, and after the long drive, pulled in over my private bridge over a small creek to what would become home for a while in the Southern Appalachians.

Spring time there means hungry trout though, so it didn't take long to find some nice local water with hungry wild trout eager to take a dry. Small streams cover the topo maps down there, and many, if they've survived mining pollution and warming stream temps, still harbor good populations of wild fish. You're not going to catch a 30" rainbow, but you'll have complete solitude and experience fly fishing that hasn't changed much over the years.

Fight the cabin fever, get out the maps, get the Jeep dirty, and head out. Embrace the rhododendron. It's worth a hike or two.

D

2010 New Haven Race

.....AND THE RACE WAS ON!!!

With consistently high, and a few, REALLY HIGH, water levels all week, hopes were building for a great day of paddling for the 2nd Annual New Haven Race near Bristol, VT. Last year the levels were blown out, limiting the number of contestants who wanted to tackle the main upper section, but we still made it happen.

This year things were shaping up great with an early, warm Spring, but this is VT, and the day before the race, temps ranged from near zero into the twenties, shutting down the snowmelt faucet feeding the river. Levels dropped, but it was still 'runnable', and the race was on! A fresh layer of ice covered the banks and boulders, and it was literally a cool scene.

The Vermont Paddler's Club and UVM 'Catayak' Kayak Club did a great job of organizing the event, and it's great to see paddlers in the region getting together to promote our sport and expand the kayaking community.

The format this year was a down-river time trial, best of 2 runs, with the top 16 then moving on into 4 person 'Boatercross' heats on a shortened course with a mass start. The winner of each Boatercross heat would then move to a final Boatercross shoot-out and title of 'King of the Ledges'.

Paddlers had been training for weeks and it really showed. Around 25 racers went for it in the time trials, and I for one can admit to gasping for air with burning abs at the end of the endurance fest. There were a lot of rocks in play at the low levels, and local knowledge of each of them definitely paid off when it came to maintaining speed. The top time trial went to Bristol, VT local Simone Orlandi with a time of 8:10. I came in second with a time of 8:30, and Hugh Pritchard placed third at 8:33. It was a fun race and great test of 'you vs the river'.

The top 16 of us were then placed into Boatercross heats and the anarchy ensued. That was my first Boatercross style event, and it's a really fun format. Not only are you going for a fast time, but your also factoring in line strategy, pass points, paddle blades smacking your boat - hopefully not your face, getting spun out, etc, etc. Lots of variables to factor in, it's chaotic, and it makes for an exciting event for both spectators and competitors. I carried the lead through about 3/4 of my heat, then lost it at a rapid called Lost Legs when another competitor and I chose different lines. I was planning a pass attempt in an upcoming slide, and then suddenly as three of us entered a small constriction of boulders in a really insignificant spot on the course, I got pushed sideways, broached on rocks, run over, and was out of it. I yelled to my friend, Will P, who slowed to make sure I was OK, to keep going as only the top placer from each heat advanced and it was too late for me. I even had to pull my skirt to free my boat and paddle and walk out of the river, frustrated, but with a smile. It was awesome, and such is the nature of Boatercross. Dan Burke won our heat, and as the Kelty/Sierra Designs rep, also helped provide great prizes for the competitors.

The final Boatercross heat came down to Dan, Scott, Will and Colby, with Scott Gilbert coming through in the end with the least mistakes and fastest lines. Congrats goes out to Scott as the 2010 King of the Ledges. He'd put in a lot of time on the New Haven and it was great to see him take the win, and claim another incredible trophy carving from Ken Packie at the Spotted Dog Wood Factory.

Thanks goes out to Ben Guttridge, Danny, Ryan McCall, Dave Packie, Ken Packie, Chris Weed, and all the volunteers, sponsors, and competitors who made the event possible, safe, and fun. Special thanks goes out here to Curtis Savard (Curtis Savard Photography) and river photographer staple, Patrick Rogers (KayakingPhotos.com) for these great images.

We're all looking forward to next year's event as this venue continues to grow and exemplify the great, and growing, paddling community in VT.

See you on the river.

D