A little tired trying to readjust back to our time zone, but overwhelmed with thoughts of our vacation would sum up my current mental state. A trip that I at one time in my life did regularly with a core group of hardcore fishing buddies took a back burner for a decade to raise a family and learn how to hopefully be a good dad came full circle this past week when I returned with my wife and kids to the great land of Alaska. There really is some truth behind stepping away from something only to return and realize just how much you took it for granted when you had less responsibility in your life. I can honestly say that returning to a place that has so many fond memories centered around my lifelong passion; flyfishing, was a breathe of fresh air in a year many of us would simply like to forget.
Despite some suburban development which is very evident as you leave Anchorage and make your way southeast on the Seward Highway, Alaska is just how I remember her; extremely vast, rugged and full of natural wonder. Out of the many times I visited this particular area in my twenties and early thirties, I don’t ever recall seeing the number of natural inhabitants as regularly as we did on this particular journey. As we headed to our destination in the tiny town of Cooper Landing, a blink of a town on the Kenai Peninsula, we were but 30 minutes into our drive when we were greeted by a majestic Bald Eagle perched on a tree very close to our route of travel. Almost simultaneously Meg was receiving a phone call from her sister Amy a mere 30 minutes ahead about a bear frolicking in the grasses along the Turnagain Arm.
Passing Beluga point we were witness to a few breaching whales that gave this point its prestigious name, but what played with my memories the most was the treacherous tides of the Turnagain Arm as we watched the bay empty on an outgoing tide; seeming more like a raging river than a bay of salt water. Amy explained to Megan that they had just arrived in Girdwood, and were twenty minutes before the doors closed for the day at Girdwood Brewery, so we would luckily have some celebratory beers that evening on the deck of her and her husband Jeff’s house. 40 minutes later we pulled into the plaza in Girdwood, grabbed some slices of pizza for the trek and met them for the final leg to their house.
I felt like I was having deja vu from my first time heading along the Seward Highway; the comments from my wife and two daughters around every corner reminded me of just how blown away by the scenery I had been and still am every time I make this journey. Despite the pockets of highway construction, which as I recall is another constant in the great state of Alaska, the drive hadn’t changed much at all. Unlike the constant and ever expanding urban sprawl we see taking over everything here in the Northeast, Alaska just outside of Anchorage is still just as wild and scenic as I remember it. Green mountains, seemingly endless number of rivers, and lakes so big they make some of our largest reservoirs back home seem tiny. As we turned into Amy and Jeff’s road, we too were briefly greeted by a small group of bears making their way back into the woods, and we would learn later on that this would most certainly not be our last wildlife sighting of our trip.
Our accomodations were a huge upgrade from my stays of yesteryear; aside from the newly built house, the views of Kenai lake were breathtaking, and every morning I revelled in them while I sipped my coffee in sweatshirt weather, something I could seriously get used to in August. Jeff said it best, “the view is never the same twice” as it was very evident by weeks end that the topography, cloud structure and time of day all made for an ever changing visual on an already beautiful natural painting.
So to give you a rundown of the trip briefly as I could very easily become overly wordy and long winded; we fished pretty much everyday. The mornings consisted of Jeff and I getting up, me typically first getting the coffee ready and then the boat. Choke down a piece of fruit and head to the Kenai for “our” fishing before we met up with the girls and either took them all down the river for the same, or headed elsewhere to take part in a variety of other activities including but not limited to, hiking a glacier, visiting a mining town, visiting an Iditarod sled dog kennel, visiting a brewery or just enjoying the day. So, every morning Jeff and I were able to get our fix on before it was an exercise in chaos in the boat in the afternoon. I mean, seriously, 8 people in a 21 foot drift boat? You’ve gotta be nuts right?
So although the Kenai is still chock a block full of fish, I did notice that the average fish size is a bit smaller than I recall, but in all honesty it didn’t quite matter much. Even though well over a decade ago the same river afforded me the opportunity to land a rainbow north of 10 pounds, I do still believe those caliber fish are still there, just maybe not where we targeted for the duration of our trip (might have to go back as Jeff suggested). I won’t sit here and feed the “stoke”, or use the terms “epic” and “stellar” to describe the fishing as it simply spoke for itself. To be honest, Jeff and I had more than our share of rainbows and dollies to satiate our fishing appetite, not to mention sockeye and coho for the freezer. What has vividly stuck with me is watching my two girls have an absolute blast catching fish with their two older cousins, oh the mom’s held their own too I might add.
So without further adieu I will leave you with a bunch of eye candy from our trip to hopefully take in our experiences. It is very safe to say that Alaska has left a very indelible mark on my girls just as it has for me, and I truly can’t wait for us to all get back up there again hopefully next summer. Lastly, the adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder is most definitely true, as a place I once took for granted has once again reminded me of just how wonderful of a place it truly is......
