fishing for words

(and tossing out random thoughts)


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our excellent Kenai adventure: day two

Daybreak on the Kasilof River

Daybreak on the Kasilof River

Tuesday was our day to drift the Kasilof River, which is about an hour or so south of TRL. After a good breakfast, picking up our cooler for the fish we hoped to catch and lunches, we headed out under overcast skies. Gawking at moose along the roadside and a bit of confusion delayed our arrival, and our guide wasn’t standing by his boat, but it was an amazing morning on the Kasilof River. The green of the water glowed while mist hugged the river surface. Soon we drifted for a bit then anchored while the guide rigged up our ten-and-a-half-foot rods. As with most king salmon fishing on the Kenai peninsula, Qwikfish lures were on the end of our lines as we back trolled.

Our guide Greg was a great guy with whom to spend most of a day on a river. Even if you don’t catch fish. It was a tough day for fishing but I think all three of us were amazed at the size of the fish being caught around us, the constant appearance of bald eagles, and the simple fact that we were in Alaska. During our drift we learned the Greg guides in Patagonia and on the Rogue River. We talked about enticing a salmon to bite and how to hook and play a fish. Mid-morning I was lucky enough to hook something seemed relatively small, but my hookset must have been weak as my line went slack and the lure came to the surface alone. On one bend of the river we watched a fly fisherman battle with a salmon for at least fifteen minutes. After dancing down the short with his rod doubled over, he landed what was probably a twenty-pound king. Never having fished from a drift boat, it was an experience for all of us. Greg even kept us on the water a couple hours longer than usual, hoping to get one of us into a fish. Hooking a king wasn’t in the cards but it was a great day on the water.

Some of sting of a fishless day was softened by the fact that we could return to the lodge, have dinner served and be regaled of others’ tales of their fishing adventure. Dave, his wife, Mom and Bob had a great day on the Keani River, with each landed a keeper king. Seeing those amazing fish, all twenty-five to thirty-plus pounds, made the prospect of hooking one even more exciting. As one might expect, dinner was a wonderful salmon and after-dinner conversation was just as enjoyable. But being out-of-door takes a lot out of a person and by nine-thirty that evening we welcoming a visit from the sandman.

Gallery of day two photos from our Kenai fishing trip:

 

 


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our excellent Kenai adventure: day one

Note: Since I was incommunicado during my trip, I will post details of the Kenai fishing trip that my dad, my brother and I enjoy during the following days in chronological order. I hope you enjoy it! Pictures will follow soon.

Monday, June 9, 2008

After weeks and months of agonizing anticipation I was finally at the San Francisco International Airport with an Alaska Airlines boarding pass in hand. My sister and her husband graciously allow me the use of their son’s bed the night before, so my wake up time wasn’t until five thirty and the drive to the airport (Thanks Tom!) a short ten minutes.

While I’m not a terrible traveler, I don’t settle down for a flight until I’m on the plane, but the wait was short and soon we were winging it northward to Seattle. The flight was uneventful – which as the saying goes is a good thing when flying – and I was able to watch Northern California slip away. Above the Golden State I was able to identify a good many locations and after I spotted the Weed rest area (readily identifiable by its proximity to the Weed airport), I was able to follow Interstate 5 to Oregon. The Oregon border also was easily identified by the overcast that would conceal my view of the earth for most of the remainder of both legs of my flights.

The flight landed in Seattle on time and in short order I boarded my next flight. Then the trouble began. The seats that remained vacant as our departure time neared should have been a clue. Our departure time came and went. Almost thirty minutes later a gaggle of Texans destined for a cruise from Alaska raucously boarded the 737-300. After another half an hour or so of tussling with carry-on baggage and deliberating over seats, all was ready again. Another few minutes were required to remedy a mechanical glitch and we were off.

My seatmates, two elderly gentlemen, keep me chatting as fishing Alaskan waters was their goal as well as mine. This helped while away the time and stirred up more excitement in each of use about hooking a Kenai king.

Despite forecasts of possible showers throughout the week, the cloud cover broke up a bit for our descent into Anchorage. Chiseled mountains peaked through the clouds, while breaks in the cloud cover gave way to glimpses of incredibly green rivers. Our aircraft passed over the Turnagain Arm on our final approach to the Ted Stevens International Airport. Once on the ground with baggage in hand, I called my brother/chauffeur for curbside pickup. (My dad and Mark landed about two hours before my expected arrival.) I also called the lodge to leave a message that our arrival might be later than planned.

Mark driving after arriving in Anchorage.

Mark driving after arriving in Anchorage.

The fact that I was in Alaska didn’t dawn in full force until we headed south on Alaska’s Highway 1. Snow-covered mountains seemed to rise out of the ocean. Turquoise rivers and meandering creeks seemed ever-present. Species of trees I had not seen before peppered the hills. Moose nonchalantly glanced up as we passed by.

Mark and I shared the task of driving and three hours later we found the short gravel driveway to Tower Rock Lodge. In accordance with the instructions I had received, we entered the log dining hall to check in. My brother cast an uneasy glass around, wondering where everyone might be and voiced concern that no one was there to greet us. Being new to the fishing lodge experience, I speculated that, gee, they might be out fishing. As if prompted by some unseen force, lodge manager, guide and great host Mark T. called me and quickly came to greet us. He and chief cook Tom helped us lug our baggage to the cabin, and with a quick primer on the lay of the land an introduction to our cabin for the week, we settled in.

To say that the service at Tower Rock Lodge is great wouldn’t accurately describe it. We sat down in the dining hall to enter our fishing license information in a log and wind down from our flight, and suddenly appetizers were brought to the table by Mark T.

Me and Mark in from of the dining room at TRL.

Me and Mark in from of the dining room at TRL.

The plate of marinated and seared moose, two cheese spreads, some meats and crackers was more than just food, it was a warm prelude to what would be fantastic experience at TRL (Tower Rock Lodge).

We relaxed and talked for a bit, meeting some of the other guests as they returned from various fishing destinations. We met Dave, Mary Ann and “Mom,” his petite mother-in-law who just happened to love to fish; Bob from New Hampshire, who had made the trip after being sick the first time he tried to make it out; and (another) Dave and Etta, TRL staff members and culinary students who had joined the lodge for the summer. Dinner, served at 7:30 p.m. to allow for guests returning late, was an excellent tri-tip with potatoes, followed by German chocolate cake dessert. During dinner Bob warmed up to the typical Konoske boys’ banter and he would become a welcome part of our TRL experience.

Our first of four fishing trips had been scheduled and posted during dinner. We were to drift fish the Kasilof River. We were to be on the river at six o’clock the next morning. We “hit the sack” about ten o’clock despite the sky lit up like a late afternoon back home. I would wake up during the night at three o’clock in the morning to find it just as bright outside.

Gallery of day one photos from our Kenai fishing trip:


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whoosh and wham…

Just a quick note to say yes, we did feel the earthquake last night. It seemed to hit a corner of the house first, and could have been mistaken for the wind…then the jolt hit. Just another day in the Golden State.

I’ll be watching the fault lines…


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fishing new water

After aborting a planned trip to the Eastern Sierra (Sonora Pass was closed – and opened the day I left for home!), I decided to scout some of the West side rivers near our cabin in Twain Harte. Unfortunately, I was thwarted at nearly every turn, particularly by gates on some Forest Service Roads, as I tried to access some of the waters I planned to explore.

However, I ended up spending two fun days – Thursday and Friday – fishing (and catching) on the North Fork of the Tuolumne River, upstream and downstream of the River Ranch Campground, at the confluence of the Tuolumne and Basin Creek. Since the object of this trip was no-stress exploration, I was on the river about 10:00 a.m., suited up and ready for wading. For those who haven’t been, it’s a nice little stretch of river with both planted and wild rainbow trout.

Boy, did I get lucky on two counts. First, no crowds…only two campsites occupied and I had the river to myself. Second, the recently planted rainbows (confirmed by a visit to a DFG hatchery were Eagle Lake strain…they sure put up a better fight than some other planters I’ve hooked.

In six hours on the water Thursday, going about a mile downstream and a mile upstream, I worked the water with a lot of side-arm casts and roll casts. (No room for even one overhead cast!) Thankfully there were only two campsites occupied and much of the time I was the only fisher on the river. This stretch offers plenty of distinct and easy to reach seams, pools and runs, out of which I hooked 22 and landed 17 (C&R’d), ranging from a three-inch wild guy to a beefy 14-inch stocker that gave me a run for my money. Based on girth and length, this fish probably weighed 1¾ to 2 lb. When I arrived a good mayfly hatch was going on and the fish were feeding.

The biggest fish of the trip was 14 inches and 1.75-2 lbs!

I decided Friday, since I couldn’t get to another river I wanted to explore, to head back to the Tuolumne. This time I went a bit further upstream, where I got into a bunch of smaller wild fish, and a bit further downstream. This day I hooked 18 and landed 15 rainbows (also C&R’d), with another one in the 14-inch range as the trophy of the day.

All in all, I had a great first time on this stretch of the Tuolumne. I’ll be back!


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a second fly fishing son

[Trying to catch up on stuff around here, so this is a bit late.]

While circumstances conspired to prevent my celebration of Opening Day of trout season (April 26) by actually fishing, I did head to the cabin with Sean and Christopher Saturday night, with plans to hit Moccasin Creek. Sure, Moccasin is stocked, but trout is trout. We stopped at Diamondback Grill to enjoy some burgers, then headed for the cabin and hit the hay.

Sunday morning, Hit Moccasin Creek we did. Christopher, Sean (with my old fly rod), and I (with my new 5 wt. fly rod) were on the water by 7:00 a.m. Sunday. The surprising lack of fisher folks allowed us to pick the best spots. Again, the creek was full of larger brook trout and soon all of us had a fish on the line.

Sean did well for his first time fly fishing, even if it was nymphing, which isn’t what one imagines when fly fishing is mentioned. (Nymphing employs weighted wet flies, which are presented to the fish in their feeding lane underwater.) While Christopher left close to mid morning after pulling in a few fish, but Sean and I spent much of the day on the creek, and in about ten hours Sean had landed a dozen trout. I stopped counting at a dozen. Later in the evening, I fished by myself and right about sunset literally hooked ten trout in thirty minutes, all out of a small pool.

Knowing it was to be a short trip, Monday morning Sean and I headed back down to Moccasin Creek to spend a “little time” on the water before we had to head home. Well, a little time stretched into hours. But I blame it on Sean’s illness…he caught the bug. When I asked if he was ready to leave, his response was “One more cast.” We had fun trying to entice some fish in a deep pool by the dam, fish we could clearly see. I think we both pulled a couple of fish out of there, thanks to my expert fly selection!

A busy but tremendously fun two days.


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fishy censorship in Portland?

Portland’s Tri-County Metropolitan Transportation District of Oregon (TriMet) denied a request from Salmon for Savings, a branch of the Bring the Salmon Home Campaign, to place an ad on TriMet buses. The ad is aimed at prompting consumers to taking a look at the controversial Klamath River dams.

Sure, the salmon seem to be a bit sad-eyed, but it sure don’t seem that controversial to me. Maybe TriMet is somehow in cahoots with Pacific Power?


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450-mile weekend

Took a quick weekend trip to visit Christopher. It was cold and drizzly on the way up, but not too bad. Picked Christopher up about 10:45 a.m. Heading north to the lagoons, where we had hoped to fish, it became apparent that he was suffering from the onset of the flu or a severe cold. So, trying to be wise, we shelved the idea of fishing in the cold rain and instead poked along, stopped at a visitor center, got some gas and checked into the hotel in the early afternoon.

I let Christopher nap while checking up on e-mail and such. Since he wasn’t too much in an eating mood, I opted out of plans to head to the Samoa Cookhouse and took myself to Rita’s Café & Taqueria. It was good, but that’s for a separate post. On the way back I picked up some cough drops, DayQuil and 7Up. Christopher stirred once and a while, mostly due to fits of coughing, before I put head to pillow.

While it wasn’t the most opportune of time thanks to some little viral bug, it was good to see Christopher for a bit. I also got to see some of the areas in which he’s been working. The photo to the right is of a beach where he and his CCC crew are charged with pulling European Beachgrass (Ammophila arenaria), an invasive weed that infests beaches in the Redwood National and State Parks. Christopher even amazed me with his newfound knowledge of invasive plants on California’s north coast.

We spent Sunday morning sleeping in, and later drove around a bit. I showed Christopher the Samoa Cookhouse and parts of Eureka, recalling the good times I had in college with few worries and despite even fewer dollars. We grabbed lunch at the

Fresh Freeze Drive-In, decent and authentic 1950’s burger joint. With the clouds seemingly threatening to release a deluge, I dropped Christopher off at the center (with instructions to get rest and recover), and plugged home into the GPS.

The drive home was interesting. On one stretch of the South Fork of the Eel River I saw an inflatable raft with six people in colorful PDFs struggling to move upstream…yes, upstream…in the swollen and muddy river. Insane, I thought, until I noticed a truck on the side of the road indicating that they were a swift water rescue team. On and off the rain came down hard enough to limit visibility as I played leapfrog with various cars with out of state license plates. It also became apparent to me, while passing through Willits, that only the things that matter less don’t change in a small town. With the exception of the Safeway, the only places that have kept their names are the carwash, the Laundromat, and the small convenience store/arcade (TnT), which I believe was frequented by my brother.

Two hundred and fifty-five miles later I was home.


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losing my beejezus

I and the family and my sister’s family headed up to the cabin for the three-day weekend.  I think we all had fun, with Tom and Nick hitting the slopes for some skiing, Luci and Nathan and Karen and Adam enjoying time away from home (and extended knitting time for Karen) and me getting some fishing time.  In the evening it was fun and games, literally.

Saturday morning found me on the Lower Stanislaus River below Goodwin Dam. Only had about three hours there and much of that was occupied by hiking and exploring as this was my first visit. Did drift nymphs through a stretch on the other side of an island below a wide pool and got one strike that gave me a fish on the line for a few seconds. Just enough to let me know the fish were there.

I hit Two Mile Bar about nine o’clock Sunday morning. Amazing weather—a great day to fish regardless of the catching. Best of all, I was the only one on the river until approximately noon. After that there were only two other fishermen there until five o’clock or so.

I first headed to the Oak Tree spot on what I would all the north shore of the river. I began with an AP nymph with a prince nymph dropper, but when I notice a small hatch going on — looked like light-colored midges — I switched to hare’s ear with a zebra midge dropper. (Both were flies that I tied during the last few weeks.) A few more casts and I was into what might very well have been the largest wild rainbow I have hooked so far. He went to the bottom of the swift water and after about a minute battle the stubborn rascal, I had put exerted enough pressure to bring him closer to shore and slow water, but this fish was having nothing to do with that. So he jumped. As in his whole-body-cleared-the-water jumped. And threw the fly at the same time. Now some might say that the size of a fish increases in direct proportion to the distance at which it is LDR’d, but I’d say this guy was an easy 14 inches. And beefy. If a trout can perform a belly flop, this guy did. Great way to start the morning!

After walking downstream to “the bed,” I fished my way back upstream. No action to speak of, but it was nice to be out. The water was just about right, though I think I like it a tad lower.

Along about noon I met up with a fellow fishing above the Amphitheater. After discovering that we both lived in the same town, there was quite a bit of sharing of information on tactics and flies. We went different directions, and after a bite of lunch, I ended up on the south shore of the Oak Tree area. After about an hour of chucking various nymphs at various depths at various seams, it was fish on again. This time I was granted a close just-about-to-the-net look, but again was foiled by a quick release.

The fishermen I had met earlier caught up with me and we fished back upstream and, just as the shadows were hitting the water, ended up at the big pool just downstream from the wooden footbridge. I wasn’t to get any more hook ups, but the other fisherman brought a couple of 10 inchers in hand by throwing BWOs at rises. BTW, we saw only a small, quick hatch in the afternoon.

Oh, besides it being a great day, and besides the pleasure of fooling two trout into taking my flies, I had the beejezus scared out of me during the late afternoon, in the small pool just above the Amphitheater, when what I would identify as a steelhead measuring at least 20 inches, if not 24 or more, decided to perform a full-body breach about a rod’s length in front of me.

No fish to hand, but a great weekend nonetheless.


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support your local jeweler……maybe gold-plated hooks?

Don’t think anyone could have seen this one coming. Maybe the “No Pebble Mine” theme of the AEG Fly Fishing Film Tour impressed something on some goldsmith somewhere. A group of prominent jewelers, including Tiffany & Co., Helzberg Diamonds and Fortunoff, plan to throw their lot in with us motley fly fishermen in opposing the Pebble Mine, a massive, open-pit sore planned for Alaska’s Bristol Bay watershed. The Bristol Bay area is home to the world’s largest population of sockeye salmon.

Diamond merchants have their conflict-free diamond and jewelers’ got their “No Dirty Gold” initiative, an effort to support environmentally friendly gold and fight destructive mining practices. Support is support and any help — from the jewelers’ “Bristol Bay Protection Pledge” or otherwise — is welcome if it leads to preventing such a disaster in Bristol Bay.

At least somebody else is paying attention.


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Oregon DFW hunting for more revenue?

While I’m not one to cry “conspiracy” at the drop of a hat, maybe the
Oregon Department of fish & Wildlife has stumbled upon a novel method of raising additional funds. Seems that a new hunting and fishing license design adopted by the department this year disappears in a few weeks if placed in a plastic license holder. So far the ODFW has only issues a press release that suggests

…carrying the license…in your wallet as you would a receipt or using a paper or Tyvek license holder.

Upside for the ODFW: Oregon hunters and anglers left with a blank license will have to pay another $6.50 for a replacement.