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.