AK Update: 'Gak, 'Wak, 'Pak and Back

I just flew in from Dillingham, and boy are my arms tired. It's not so much the flight as the 20 mile paddle against headwind squalls that did it. But you know, you get halfway across the lake, and you pick your suffering: a rainy night in the tent with no fishing nearby, or a few more hours of slogging it out. I slogged.

The rewards were worth it, in the form of a sockeye sandwich: fishing a great sockeye stream (the Little Togiak) bracketed by two days each on the incredible Agulukpak and Agulowak rivers. Without really intending to, I happened to hit a short window between smolting and egging where the trout are willing to look up to dry flies. So, if you like sight-fishing dries to two foot long rainbows, it was a good time to be out there. By the time I got to the 'Wak they were starting to key on pink egg patterns too. All of it was great fishing.

I feel a little odd blogging without any of the pictures I took, but those will come later. I hope I'll also get some mental energy to spin out some of the memorable images from the two trips I've just finished -- like, for example, the rainy night I popped my head out of the tent to scare the crap out of a grizzly who had just captured a nice salmon. I swear, he looked more surprised than me! He took the fish by the head and ran off into the woods, cruising right into the area where I had put my food cache. Hm. The way he took hold of the fish made a sudden image flash through my mind: a griz taking hold of the dry bag I was using with my bear can and running off the same way. Good lesson. From that night on I kept the top of the bag open so that the can would be sure to slip out under any pilfering attempts.

I saw at least one bear a day on that 14-day, 168 mile deal. Only one on the week-long, 65 mile lakes paddle. Go figure.

Ah, this is good, writing with a lower 48 audience in mind reminds me how special all this is, with the grizzlies and the riotous fishing and the long days of midnight sun. Amazing how quickly you get used to it and start taking it for granted. By the end of the two week trip, the most special thing in my world was a joyous reunion with hot water and soap. Oh lordy that was nice. And then last night, I found a bit of 7th heaven watching the Houston Dynamo beat Club America at a Mexican restaurant with very excellent seafood and Tecate on tap.

Next move is to some clear water streams just north of Anchorage and then over to Valdez to chase cohos and pinks (the remaining salmon species to be ticked off) in the salt. I'm also busy trying to decide on the third leg of my trip; the truth is, I've had enough solo camping in the rain to last most of a lifetime, and I'm considering cancelling the ten-day paddle in Prince William Sound until I can get some foolish buddy of mine to come along and share the fun and misery. But that's still TBD. Long paddles and camping out has made me lean and clean, and I bet I'll be missing it after a week of roadside fishing . . . .