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- Written by: Rich
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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......
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In this rather fast paced world that we now find ourselves in, it often feels like everything is a giant race. A race to chase what everyone else is doing courtesy of that last picture on Instagram, or story on Facebook or Youtube because that is well you know, what you’re supposed to do “bro”. “Dude, do you even fish anymore? You never post fish pics on the gram like you used to bro?” Actually I am fishing, rather regularly I might add, but I’m spending more time living, and not being another episode of reality television.
So back to the living; there aren’t too many things that get me super excited out there much lately. You could say that whatever luster was left for me on my local and already pressured fishery has sorta been lost. Even more so this season because quite frankly the river has been beaten to a pulp this season like the jersey barriers on Interstate 91 by Colts curve in Hartford courtesy of Covid 19. But yet there is a silver lining in everything if you just let it happen.
Letting it happen is probably a better title for this post, cuz in all honesty that is exactly what transpired as a result of me really observing; maybe all those minutes, days, weeks, months and years spent on the water actually paid off. So a few of you might be chewing your nails right now in suspense wondering if I caught another behemoth like that fish of a lifetime from Chile a few years ago. Well, unfortunately that’s not where this is going, sorry to break your heart there. In hindsight that fish changed my life, it made me realize that even though I already knew this, life isn’t all about that next trophy fish picture for Instagram, life is in fact about so much more.
So I’ll reel you all back in here a bit, and cut to the chase on just what my observations did for me just the other day. Many of you know that I am a father of two daughters, two daughters whom I’d like to think are getting a nice sampling of what life has to offer. They both have a very wide and varied palette when it comes to food; my wife and I had them both trying everything when they were younger and it has stuck so far, heck they still try new foods to this day. You see, we weren’t gonna be short order cooks for these two with frozen TV dinners like many people around us, they were going to try it all and thankfully that turned out pretty good for us as they eat just about everything and have a love for good food, not processed preservative laden junk.
My girls diverse and broad appetites has translated into many facets of their short lives; what they have learned from trying everything at the dinner table has made them thirsty for adventure, eager to meet people from all walks of life and really pursuing and enjoying a very wide scope of interests, many of which involve physical activity and being outside. Granted they aren’t always out there, but they sure as heck are out there a lot more than the average kid of today by any stretch of the imagination.
What my observations told me with both of my girls was simple, you can’t force anything, you have to let them be kids and hopefully if you expose them to many of the things in life that you enjoy, well they too will at some point follow suit. Girls are a little different than boys, so sometimes it is often better to not push your interests on them. If some of you recall, when my girls were much smaller, they liked to tie flies with me in my shop. At some point the desire to do so faded away, although we still do that once in a great while. My girls learned how to fish with conventional spinning gear, just as I did when I was younger. They are both very proficient with that spinning gear I might add, and they love to fish, but they don’t fish every day and that is absolutely ok. Some of you out there need to read that last line, because it is truly the answer; they’re kids, and they need to be kids. The last thing I want to be is that parent who forces their interests on their own kids because they didn’t fully succeed at one of their hobbies or sports.
I see this regularly, and although there are families where this works and the child truly loves whatever they are doing and takes it to such extremes that they either turn it into a living or become a professional athlete, more often than not you get a child that ends up resenting that parent or flat out does exactly the opposite of whatever agenda it is your forcing down their throats. Life’s too short, and that time raising your children is much shorter as I watch my two daughters continue to grow almost daily.
So I took that leap of faith and decided to let things happen with hopes that maybe my girls would want to flyfish someday. The last few weeks my oldest really started on me that she wanted to go flyfishing, which at first I was a little surprised as I was actually starting to accept that she very well may not want to flyfish at all, and that is entirely alright. So yesterday we headed out, waders and all, and with her fly rod that she was given when she was much younger.
Patience has taught me that it’s better to teach people, and kids for that matter the right way rather than cut corners as it has the potential to create bad habits. Now I am not saying that fishing dry flies is the right way, what I am saying is fishing dry flies requires the angler to actually cast a fly line, and hinges around the basic principles of fly fishing in general. And, that was how I learned when I was a kid, so if it worked then it will work now.
So after putting on our waders we headed to a nice stretch of water, crossed the river and had ourselves some fun. The pressure from the current as we waded across the river was a first time experience for Tessa. With an ear to ear smile she giggled out loud as we marched hand in hand to our position across the river. Once we arrived she learned quickly that finding a nice level spot to stand and fish was paramount, and we assumed a perch adjacent to a rather nice piece of moderately paced water.
After stringing up her fly rod, which was another first, we opened up our fly box and decided on a fly for our outing. Sorry, no bobbers or tight line rigs were going to be her first experience on the water, dad interjected himself here, but rightfully so as my kid is going to learn how to cast. Life’s not easy, and we Strolis’ don’t learn the easy way, and I am proud to say she definitely held her own for her first time.
Granted, some might think that anything less than a fish in the net is a failure. There was a time in my High School and College years where I’d have felt the same, but with age comes wisdom. Although Tessa didn’t bring any fish to hand, many lessons were learned like the finer nuances of casting with obstructions behind her, problem solving drag which she figured out on her own, and also keeping the fly afloat. The latter was one of her favorites as the bottle of dry shake was a lot of fun, I didn’t realize how much fun drying off your fly can be, and I think I was smiling and realizing that often things are much more enjoyable through the eyes of a child.
Although I’d love to say that Tessa “hammered” fish the entire time, she had about a bakers dozen eat her lovely dry fly and she felt the pull of about four or five of them before they came unbuttoned. It’s safe to say we have some work to do on the playing and landing part, but that will come with time, and that first trout to net all by herself will be another first I cannot wait to experience. Truth be told, her first fly rod fish will be a great memory, but I think what she said to me on the river when she made a wonderful little reach cast, worked a nice drag free drift and hooked a rather large rainbow that came off a few seconds later was probably the best first. “It’s ok daddy, it’s definitely not about the fish, I’m having so much fun just being out here”.
Knowing that my twelve year old daughter clearly understands exactly what it’s all about, more so than many twice her age is better than any fish I have ever experienced. As we crossed the river and made our way back to the truck, took off our gear and climbed in, she turned to me and said, “That was so much fun dad, I love when we get to do stuff like this just you and me; I can’t wait to go again”. I guess you could say she’s wise beyond her tender age of twelve.
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- Written by: Rich
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I actually had some time to shoot a couple more tying videos for the Dave Goulet series this week. Below you will find a pair of Dave's dry fly patterns that were unique to the Farmington, but have far reaching success on many other fisheries. I hope you enjoy these videos and the contributions that Dave made to fly design. I hope you all have a great weekend.
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