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.