Yesterday I returned from my twelve-day Alaskan fishing trip. Re-entry to Idaho was brutal, as I stepped out onto the asphalt tarmac in the midday Boise heat. It's about 35 degrees warmer here than I had become accustomed to.
I went with my friends Marty, Ben and Steve (pictured below). We had the same group of guys in 2011.
The town of Soldotna really comes to life during salmon season. Traffic is a mess, and lines at the beer store are long. I lost count of the number of people I saw cruising around Fred Meyer in their waders.
Marty has been fishing the Kenai for years, and really has things dialed-in. He stores a boat, tackle, and the Mormon Assault Vehicle (suburban) in Soldotna.
I was very fortunate on this trip, as I was able to catch the first fish of each species, the largest fish, and even the largest rock. I'm especially proud of the rock.
While Karen doesn't believe me, fishing is backbreaking work. We spent long hours on the river, slept about 4 hours each night, and prepared fish for the flight home. In all we brought home about 600 lbs of frozen fish.
One day, while fishing for sockeye, a gentleman noticed that I was discarding the eggs. He went on to tell us that this was the best part of the fish, and once we tried "sockeye caviar" we would throw the rest of the fish away. Steve wrote down the recipe and we gave it a try. By "we" I mean Steve and I tried it. I ate three crackers. I'm pretty sure my dad would have eaten 30. It was ok, but I'm not ready to throw out the rest of the fish just yet.
We were fishing the Honeymoon Hole one evening when a cow moose brought her calf out to the nearby backwater area. The cow played around in the water, splashing and playing like crazy, apparently trying to entice her calf to enter the water. The calf showed as much interest in the water as Ben and Marty did with the caviar.
On the last evening we took a trip down to the mouth of the river. Residents are allowed to net 25 fish per family member. We watched as hundreds of folks held their dip nets out at high tide waiting for the fish to arrive. I guess when hundreds of thousands of fish swim by every day, your odds are pretty good. This show made the Riggins salmon season "combat fishing" look like a picnic in the park.
I would like to thank Karen for holding down the fort and allowing me to slip away for this awesome vacation. There were many times during the trip when I had to check my phone just to know what day of the week it was, let alone the time. With about three hours of darkness each day, I felt like I was in a time warp. The picture below was taken at about 4 am as the sun was rising.
No comments:
Post a Comment