Naknek what the Heck?

As my wife sent me off to find "such & such" at the grocery store; I passed the magazine rack and quickly forgot my errand. I noticed a fly fishing rag had fingered one of my AK haunts.  "What the heck, don't finger the Naknek"!  There it was, in full gory, some chump giving the deets on another great river.  WHY?! "Scumbucket!" I screamed to no one in particular. I quickly perused the rag article, noticing furtive glaces of hate and disdain coming my way. "I will NOT buy this rag", I muttered halfway under my breath, "how dare they".  I found a silver lining though, obviously this underpaid over-privledged, dare I say, author? had never fished it without a guide.  Hence he left out the secret of the UnGuided.  "He left out the secret!" I blurted, not caring where I was or who I was shouting at, "Heee HEE HEE".  I quickly snapped a photo with my phone and sent it off to the Gov.  He'll understand, he'll understand, I thought. "Now, what did I come here for?" I asked the redneck who stood near me as he flipped through a copy of his own guilty pleasure. "I'm in dutch with the wife".



First Tracks

I wish I could tell you that a pristine little trout stream lay at the top of the mountain and that I found many willing trout on the end of my line this day, but alas, I cannot.  When life gives you snow, you make tracks.  The trail head parking had not even been plowed yet, good sign. Not a human track was found, only deer and a coyote.  We covered several miles enjoying the cold air and dearth of people. I suppose I could have been on a trout stream somewhere, but in 22 degree weather, I'd rather be snowshoeing. Wilderness is wilderness, no matter the activity.