Showing posts with label rainbow trout. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rainbow trout. Show all posts

Friday, July 22, 2016

Of Obsession and Lists

Is this an obsession?  As the summer wears on and it gets closer to go-time, I’m always surprised at how AK starts taking over my life… Every activity and thought is measured by, “will this have any impact on AK?”  Don’t work out too much, might get hurt and mess up AK.  Compulsively check the salmon run- ya it’s updated every three days, but I still check it every couple of hours.  Can’t schedule any important meetings during AK weeks or really a few days before cause I’m already checked out….Got to find time when everyone is gone so I can make the movie….review every list and research gear options early so make sure there is plenty of time to buy, test, return, repeat… The other night as I was eating a bowl of cereal and thinking about what else I needed to prepare, I stared blankly at the TV, some movie was on with Steve Martin and the blond guy with the big nose (Owen Wilson) and Jack Black.  Almost imperceptively I began to understand it was about a group of guys that were obsessed with birding and what they would do to see the highest number of distinct bird species in a single year.  Owen Wilson blew off his wife’s ultrasound and ultimately left her for a snowy owl that represented the world record.  Hmmm, that is obsessive, but that’s not me….is it?

Let’s leave the obsession discussion and just dissect what is going on…  In my life of 100 things to do on multiple to-do lists and constant planning, evaluating, judging, discussing, deciding- I seem to always be looking forward, looking to the next thing on the list.  It’s not a bad thing, it’s just modern life- responsibility.  Only in wilderness are there moments, minutes, hours and maybe even days where all my thoughts, feelings, and intentions are focuses only on that moment.  Time stands still- there is nothing else in the world, just this place and this moment.  I become attuned to details- the color and texture of the rocks, the layers of current around me, the simple tools of my trade, birds, insects, specs of transparent string, the texture of dry rabbit fur.  So much of my life seems to be inside my mind, living in my thoughts except here, where my mind turns inside out and the outside world permeates all thought.  All of the world around me is totally oblivious to my presence.  Except for a few landed trout and the occasional intrigued bear, I am irrelevant.  This has been here for a million lifetimes and will be here millennia after I’m gone.  I am temporary.  All around me is permanent.  This truth is peace.

So I tell people I am going fishing in Alaska and they think of tricking a fish to bite a hook so you can eat it or take a photo with it, brag about your skill and mastery over it etc.   Which is not even in the same universe as what I mean.  Experiencing an ancient natural process- standing in the middle of it- seeing its beauty, pondering its integrated complexity, smelling its finality, hearing its brutality in the distant scream of a cub, and holding its magnificent power with your cold wet hands- even for just a moment- knowing you’ve paid the price to slightly comprehend Gods creation- eliciting reverence, humility… joy.  Last week I did have a conversation with a friend who also loves the wild and as we talked about my trip- we communicated on that deeper level that comes when you’ve gone into the wilderness enough that it has gone into you.

Another friend was surprised that this would be my 9th pilgrimage.  “Don’t you want to go to some other awesome place and catch other exotic fish?”  I thought about that for a minute, “Ya, I suppose I do-“ and then I gave him the “rationale” for why I’m going back to the same river basin; cost, have it figured out, world class fishery…. But really I’m developing a deep connection with this particular place, the familiarity is both comforting and enriching.  To not go starts to feel like a betrayal.  This wilderness has given me so much, how can I leave her for even just one summer?  Yes, I do want to cast to other species in other places- but that seems like it might lead to a list.


Monday, May 16, 2016

Getting the Nak

So I've only been once.  Pablo thrice, Softserve Mikey, hundreds.   The breathless emails (OK, I don't know how an email is breathless, but it felt like it) have now become real time texts with photographic evidence.   Mikey loves the Nak, he just does.  He's had some days there that rival only his beloved Goodnews of yesteryear.  And his love makes him blind.  Blind to the horrific wind, blind to sleeping on a dirty garage floor next to Uncle Ed's greasy boat motor, blind to millions of fishless casts in the shadow of Treefon's cabin, blind to being busted for no license (Lisa).   To me she is a big tease.  I've seen the pics and heard the tales, but my day there consisted of more hours huddled against the bank hiding from the wind, as flailing an eggsucking leech.  JB will have to speak for himself. Ya, if it didn't take 20 hours of butt busting, back aching flights, the expectation could be lowered, but it does and I'm not ready to back, not yet.

Saturday, March 12, 2016

29 days plus 100 days= eternity

Saturday morning, roaming around like a big grizz, trying to decide what to do with myself- fighting the urge to go attack a sow and kill the cubs, no reason, just because I can, and I'm crazy from a long hibernation.

Check the Bristol Bay google feed for any updates on the pebble mine disaster, end up reading the d
Dillingham news, seems the Angels (girls bball team) had a pretty good year.... leads me to the Alaska Dispatch, but only reports of last years run and a suspected murder in Eagle, knife stabbing,... ok. let's just go to the source- Alaska Fish and Game... just for kicks I read last years projection report- highest in 20 years, 35 million sockeye can't be wrong!  But its all quite on the western front for 2016- except a king report- not good for the Kenai, a little better for Bristol- let's hope and pray the big boys can make a come back (solemn bow).

So March 12, the count down to the countdown begins eh, only 29 days till they release the 2016 projections and then for a 100 days I can check the site and obsess over the data.  this is bad.... maybe I should take up fly tying, can't be any more miserable.


Friday, March 11, 2016

The dog days are over, run fast





It's 77 degrees on March 11th.  I bring stuff for a run in the woods, but the knee is tender, the desire is waning and there is a hatch coming off (not really, but it sounds good).  So at this temp waders stay home and the wet legs are a relief.  There is already a touch if humidity in the air, is it March or May?    I'm not very focused, but don't really care.  Stuffed a hammock in the new hip pack, just in case I lost all desire.  I didn't.  Not much happening till I hit Christians pool and take a big brookie and couple of others.  The lights dimming, cicadas buzzing as I bushwack back to the truck. 72 degrees as the dark trees shimmer in the headlights.  Is it just me, or did winter just get real short.