AK 2010: Becharof Beckons

As my season in AK was coming to a close, it was time to do something special and tie together everything we'd dealt with regarding fishing conditions, weather, logistics, and desires to explore something new. Along with guiding Dad, my brother had also chosen to join us in AK for the last week, so we really wanted to give him a good backcountry 'Alaskan Experience'.

I was still having dreams of orange char bellies, glistening against a sunset. The question was where to find them, and would we still be too early for them to be really colored up in preparation for the spawn.

After heading the word of friends, sifting through some books, pondering the maps and time required, and making some phone calls, a plan emerged and we settled on checking out the Becharof National Wildlife Refuge. Simple plan -- pick a river, fly in, get dropped, set up a camp, fish a few days, get picked up a few days later, fly out. Of course there would still be the finding the fish and getting them to eat factor.

After some rained-out exploration on the mainland, it was time to pit-stop in King Salmon for some fuel, and load up the float plane. During the flight we spotted a nice bull caribou from the air, running around in the middle of a shallow pond. Likely trying to escape the 'white socks' (AKA black flies with white legs). Turns out it would foreshadow a bit of what was to come.

Eventually we touched down and within five minutes it seems we were alone on a riverbank, listening to the sound of the prop fading in the background, donning headnets, and unpacking tents in the afternoon sun. Sockeye were porpoising. Hopes were high.

Sometimes it takes a lot of hard work before the river rewards you. Sometimes it never does. But, sometimes, the river just smiles back at you as you wade into it. This would prove to be one of those times.

By evening on the first night, visions of orange char bellies came to fruition. The 20" Arctic Grayling 'threshold' you so often hear about in Alaska was shattered by all (a rarity lost on certain inexperienced brethren, but he'll learn). This was a very special place indeed. Maybe the river just knew our journey to that point, and felt it would play along.

As evening came upon us, it was clear this was the place we were meant to be. My goals had been met in just a few hours. With days yet to come, the icing on the cake was already in place and only going to get sweeter.

Camp life would be good.

AK 2010: Passing Time

After a great week at Brooks, it was time to say goodbye to Jim, the bears and the 'bows. It was a great week of exploring just a hint of what the entire Katmai region has to offer, and why the area deserves our protection. For information on how to help do just that, check out the Trout Unlimited Save Bristol Bay campaign, and let your representatives know how you feel. Humans have no place interfering is so many things in this world, Bristol Bay is one of them.

I couldn't leave without getting the waders wet just one more time, so I headed out for a solitary sunrise on the marsh to reflect a little on my time there. Of course having a pull on the line would be welcome as well, and I thank those that were kind enough to wave goodbye with their tails.

After transferring at Kulik Lodge from floats to wheels, we were back on our way to Anchorage. The weather decided to cooperate again, yielding incredible views of glaciated Mt. Iliamna on the way.

This brought up a bit of a dilemma -- how to fill a few days before my brother would be flying in for his first trip to AK. Not a bad problem to have though, and after a day of scouting to see what had changed on the mainland since we'd been gone, eventually we just settled on hanging around the Kenai for a couple days of easy camping, great fishing, and lining up plans for the following week.

The Kenai is probably the most heavily fished area in Alaska -- it's largely accessible by road, only a couple hours from Anchorage, has beautiful rivers, and has incredible runs of fish of various species.

With that comes some of the negatives however -- people, crowds, trash, streamside erosion, unethical fishing practices, bear habituation, etc. You can escape a lot of that by putting in effort on foot or by floating, but it can't be ignored. Luckily the Park Service has put in a number of measures, in the Russian on particular, to help combat these trends, and it's making a difference.

In the high traffic areas, walkways have been put in to reduce streamside erosion. Signs have been put up to educate the public. Bear cabinets are standard in each campsite if you're camping in the NPS campground, and there's a 3 foot rule between you and your pack since the bears have learned to become bag snatchers when left unattended.

Let's face it, not everybody is going to really get out into the 'Alaskan wild', nor should they. Even on a road fishery, being able to have as 'wild' an Alaskan experience as possible, in a nice, clean setting, without hurting the ecosystem, is important. One thing that stood out for me this year was the monofilament line recycling stations in the high use areas. Mono is specifically designed to be durable, strong, and withstand harsh environments, yet fisherman still manage to throw it on the bank and forget about it. Hopefully seeing these boxes will help people recognize their actions and maybe even take a second to pick it up when they see it. It's also great to see products like Fishpond's PIOPOD (Pack It Out) microtrash container entering the market.

Over the course of a few days we spent a lot of time on the Russian as it was fishing incredibly well. Sockeye were at the peak of their spawning, filling the river with eggs, and bringing in the large rainbows and Dolly Varden char to fatten up for the winter.

I got out in the Watermaster again to scout some areas and see how they'd changed, and finally found a solution to the self-fighting big fish while self -rowing problem I'd faced all season with my knee-mending, open drag technique I discussed earlier. Sometimes satisfaction only comes with challenge.

It would prove to be a great few days of relaxed camping and stellar fishing. Just what we needed to get ready for the last hoorah and making a plan come together......

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...

AK 2010: Sunny Brooks 'Bows

After a rainy and

foggy morning kept us grounded from a planned fly-out, the skies parted and we had the rather unfamiliar feeling of the sun shining on our faces. It hadn't rained really hard in a few days, so while high, the Brooks River had done some clearing up. Now with actual sunlight to help see through the water, conditions were ideal for sight fishing to rainbow trout.

The sockeye salmon were still packing into the river and pairing up to spawn. Redds (salmon 'nests') were filling the riverbed, cratering it up like the surface of the moon. The egg drop was in it's early stages, and the rainbows were lining up devouring as many eggs as possible.

Like everything else in Alaska, the rainbows go where the salmon go, and at the Brooks River, being so short, with the Brooks Lake above and Naknek Lake below, rainbows pack in from both ends. One phenomena I've noticed over the years in AK is the dynamic between the rainbows and sockeye, and how it evolves as the salmon spawning begins. Early, when there's still a lot of 'riverbed real estate' available, the rainbows and sockeye seem somewhat content with each other, and disperse themselves across the river. As more spawning sockeye move in, pair up, make redds, and start dropping eggs, the rainbows progressively get pushed out as real estate dries up and angry males chase them off. Then you tend to catch them on the edges of the spawning beds, with the occasional really big boy hanging in the middle, oblivious to the bullying salmon. Eventually the rainbows seem to move into blowdowns, log jams, other typical trout cover, or they drop downstream of the spawning bed entirely, until the salmon die off and they move back up or out. Char seem much more tolerant of the salmon overall, and display this behavior to a lesser degree. There are exceptions of course, but that seems to be the general progression on many rivers.

This day was somewhere early in the 'moving to the edges' phase I'd say, but conditions were also perfect for spotting the big ones holding in the middle of the salmon, or noses lined up downstream of a bed area, like hungry cows filing in to a feeding trough. We had some company for the day too as Chase, one of the Brooks guides, had a free day due to the cancelled flyout. More eyes are always better, especially eyes that know the river better than you do.

Wade, look, spot, cast, and hopefully hook up and hold on was the name of the game. Some trout were showing themselves openly on large flat rocks -- which are of course no use to a salmon trying to make a nest, other were tucked up in the shadows of undercut banks, directly downstream of spawners. The day prior (rainy and buggy) had turned up a beautiful 'Leopard Rainbow' for me, which in AK is just a dark, heavily spotted rainbow. Now with the sun to our favor, and knowing trout liked to hold in that area, Dad did an excellent job making the right cast to a perfect fish, and after a great fight brought him to hand.

Having the sun for the day was almost like fishing a different river. It's just so much more fun and challenging to me to pick out a fish first, and then go for it, instead of blind casting into an area and waiting for a hook-up. Nothing beats seeing the fish move, the white of his gums, and explode out of a hookset.

Would the sun hold out? That's another story, until then, sweet dreams...

D