AK 2010: Funnel Creek Fish Tails

Bears, bears, and 'Bows, oh my!

Another option to add to the variety of fishing at Brooks is doing fly-outs to other rivers and creeks in the region. Pick a day, and a float plane will be waiting on the beach after breakfast, load up, fly into a river of your choice (or the lodge staff will be happy to suggest), get dropped for an incredible day of fly fishing, and if all goes well, get picked up in the afternoon and brought back to Brooks.

I'd been doing some researching and scouting on a few rivers in the region for future float trip ideas, and one creek I really wanted to get a brief introduction to on foot first was Funnel Creek. With a rare good weather window carrying over into the morning, Dad and I were up early and greeted to an incredible sunrise across Naknek Lake, highlighting our route North to Funnel.

Funnel Creek is a pristine, small sockeye spawning stream in high tundra. In the Fall it packs full of not only the salmon, but also large trout, and like everywhere else there's salmon, it packs FULL of brown bears. To be honest, it's overflowing with brown bears. With it's small size and high fish densities, bears gather here for the easy salmon fishing, packing on pounds for the winter. If you don't like fishing in close proximity to multiple bears at a time, don't bother going to Funnel. Brush on the banks is thick, and close encounters are inevitable. You'll probably also have human company on the creek, either other fly fisherman, or bear viewers being flown in from other lodges.

It's reputation is deserved though, and the scene is an incredible one to experience. We knew what to expect, and saw plenty of bears from the air before landing. Chase joined us again for the day, and after starting our hike up the creek, we were immediately greeted from seemingly every direction as breakfast on the creek was clearly underway. Favored bear sitting and feeding areas were obvious, with endless packed grass mounds spaced out evenly along the banks. 'Belly Craters' marked some of the gravel bars, where bears had dug out indentations to ease the pressure on their bloated bellies when they laid down for a nap.

With all the salmon in the small river, backs and tails often sticking out of the water, it was no wonder the bears loved it so much, putting up with each other and us for the easy pickings. The old bears had their fishing style -- just sitting like a bullfrog on the bank, staring at the water, occasionally reaching out, smushing a salmon into the riverbed. Then lifting it out, giving it a look over, biting off whatever looked tasty, and tossing it to the side. Then repeat. Younger bears seemed to favor the chase method, making a big splash and display, catching one, then carrying it out to feed on the bank. Some bears fished alone, some were moms, fishing for their cubs. Some bears seemed just to enjoy chasing the salmon, never taking a bite out before tossing them aside.

Salmon aren't the only fish in the creek though, and the rainbows were big and fat from the salmon eggs littering the river. These were tough, strong rainbows, and not easy to land in the small water, full of open sockeye mouths waiting to get caught on the line as a fighting rainbow goes screaming by. Getting a fly to drift through the salmon without getting fouled on them, then a prolonged fight from a strong trout with no intention of letting you tail it, is a worthy challenge. Some challenges are worth the frustration factor though, and pristine, dark, 'leopard' rainbows from Funnel are unforgettable.

By lunchtime on the tundra, the weather had returned to normal, and the rain was falling for the hike back to the pick-up point. A few more tugs on the line were in order, and of course, a few more bears. After some speculation as to whether or not we'd see the plane again that day (always a potential on fly-outs), the telltale sound of a prop came through the clouds. Guess we wouldn't have to cuddle in a bear belly crater after all.

We headed back to the lodge to fill our bellies, tell fish tales about the ones that didn't, and dream about the ones that got away...