Every year we try to make the trip to Alaska in one form or another. Whether it’s fishing SE Alaska for Steelhead, stream hopping the Peninsula or roughing it on a float trip the fishing is always good. We’ve come to expect stupid good fishing and that’s one of the reasons we go, but mostly we like to get off the grid, live with a fly rod in our hands for a while and spend time with friends. Typically there are more bears than people and that’s the way we like it. This year was no exception as we set off on a seven night float trip from a remote lake to the Bering Sea. I’ve done this trip many times before and have always had excellent fishing and even better weather. Late July and August is usually warm and sunny with highs in the upper 60’s and 70’s. Occasionally it will shower, but then the sun comes out and dries us out in no time.
This year was different…. I should have known when everyone I talked to in Bristol Bay said, “It’s been pretty wet this Summer.”
I thought, “Ahhh, that was last week, it’s almost August, it can’t be that bad.” Put a big old check mark in the “WRONG” column on that one. On the day we were to fly to the lake we woke up to dense fog, drizzle and 50 degrees. After 8 hours in standby mode, some overpriced burgers and a few cigars the weather lifted, we climbed in a Beaver and were off to the lake. The lake was beautiful and I got that same warm fuzzy feeling I always get when the plane takes off and leaves you in a wilderness so immense, untouched and gorgeous.
We pushed on into the river and I immediately took note of the water level. It was at least 6″ higher than I had ever seen it, but running clear and the fish were cooperating. We caught some chrome sockeyes, huge grayling and a couple nice rainbows on our way to the first camp. As we set up camp, a bear wandered down the other side of the river eating berries and enjoying the day. I too was enjoying the day and soon forgot the 36 hours of travel it took to get there.
The next day was nice, fishing was a little slower than usual, but we still caught a bunch of fish including some 20-22″ bows, trophy grayling and the odd salmon. Still looking good. Then as we set up camp #2 it sprinkled, lightly at first, and then stopped. Soon the showers became more frequent and by noon the next day, the wind had increased, temperature had dropped into the mid-forties and it was raining. Ugh… but alas, this can’t last longer than a day… can it? Four and a half days later we were still wishing it would stop raining. For the rest of the week we had a 5 minute and 10 minute break in the rain, total. The river blew out by the fourth day, but luckily we were in salmon country and the slough fishing was fantastic.
Despite the weather, we did our best to keep spirits up. We ate well, fished hard and tried to keep at least our sleeping bags and pads dry. That mostly worked. I’ve never been in a situation that tested my gear that sternly, but I can say without question that Patagonia makes good rain gear, MSR makes one heck of a parawing shelter and beavers do a good job of collecting and curing firewood. I was disappointed in one North Face tent that leaked badly by the second day and a few of the dry bags were suspect, but all in all it was a good trip. The fishing was great as usual, one angler in the group completed the week with a super grand slam, all five species of Pacific Salmon, grayling, rainbow trout, dolly varden, lake trout and whitefish. I was lucky enough to land the five salmon grand slam in a single hole, with one fly, in less than a hour, without moving my feet. Needless to say, I retired that fly.
In the end, we came out unscathed and felt like real men, although I was still shaking the water out of my ears in Anchorage. I’m chalking this trip up in the “experiences I’ll never forget” column. Next time, I’ll make sure to bring more industrial garbage bags and more fuel for the fire.
This nice SW Alaska leopard rainbow found a big pink salmon bugger in dirty water
Doubles on Dolly Varden were a regular occurrence, we even had a quadruple hookup on salmon in the lower river.
An abandoned seagull nest with a lone unhatched egg frames a soggy gravel bar campsite.
