Spring 2023 Alaskan Adventures

Alaskan Adventures Issue #07 SPRING 2023

ALASKAN ADVENTURES

MERIDIANFLYREELS.COM

I WANT TO SEE ALASKA ALL OF IT!

As an Alaskan lodge owner, it is my responsibility to find guests that want to come and experience our little slice of heaven. A lot of what I do for marketing is travel to sportsman shows around the country. Marketing the lodge at a sportsman show like The International Sportsman’s Expo, The Great American Outdoor Show or The Fly-Fishing Show involves setting up a booth showcasing the flare of what an experience at our lodge looks like.

These shows usually last between 3-10 days, and while they are a lot of work, they are also a lot of fun!

While I am sitting in my booth at these shows I get to meet people from all over the country and many different walks of life. Regarding a trip to Alaska, I hear a lot of responses. One statement I hear often is, “I want to see Alaska”. My response is always the same…Get ready for a long ride!

Our lives today are full of so much hurry up and move on to the next item that we think we can make everything happen so quickly. Myself included in many of these situations that I often forget to slow down and take it all in. In my opinion, Alaska is a place that will force you unknowingly to take a second look.

Over the years of working the show circuit I have had the pleasure of getting to know a lot of people. And to me it seems as if there is a large population of people out there that really like to explore or had no idea they did until they made their first trip to Alaska. Once they take their first trip, most folks end up looking into another corner of Alaska to explore. Once Alaska gets under your skin she doesn’t want to leave easily!

Alaska has been publicized and fantasized by so many for years. And I feel from getting to know folks that there is a common theme when first wanting to see Alaska. What I mean is that whenever I meet anyone at the shows that state “I want to see Alaska” I always follow up with, “What ideally would a trip to Alaska look like for you”?

The response is usually the same tune of wanting to see mountains, bears, whales, glaciers and catch salmon on the Kenai.

All of this is part of the iconic Alaska that has been portrayed for many years and I completely understand their response however…

Alaska is the largest state in the union and seeing and doing all this in one trip is a tall feat. Also, as I mentioned before, Alaska gets under your skin so get ready for a long ride. In all my years marketing at sportsman shows I have gotten to know many folks that have attempted to find that perfect trip to see Alaska. So far, I have not meet anyone that has said been there, done that, and now is not interested. Usually, the next conversation after someone has been to Alaska at least once falls along the lines of “what can I do in Alaska next.” most want to take that small bush plane and get really close to the mountains, glaciers, and trees.

Everyone wants to really explore Alaska from the comfort and safety of a remote lodge. In my opinion it is the best and only way to get close to Alaska.

In my experience there are two types of Alaska. The ‘Front Stage Show’ and the ‘Backstage Pass.’ The Front Stage Show is any and everything on the road system.

Fishing on the Kenai is a fitting example. There is absolutely nothing wrong with fishing on the Kenai and it is definitely a great time, but it is usually very crowded.

However, there are a lot of really great places to explore on the road system. Denali National Park, Anchorage, Fairbanks, Seward, Whittier, and Homer are all on the road system and have some WONDERFUL places to explore. Most of these places show off a piece of the stereotypical “iconic Alaska.”

The “Backstage Pass” includes seeing many areas of Alaska and everywhere you look it is something new and unbelievable around every corner. From way up above the arctic circle to all the way out on the peninsula, from the Yukon on the Eastern side of the state to Western Bush and all the way down to the rain forest in Southeast. No matter the direction, Alaska’s backstage is so large and vast that it has something amazing to offer your soul.

I continually market at sportsman shows and I meet a lot of people for the second and third time, eventually I can convince most to see the backstage with me. Eventually, most want to take that small bush plane and get really The “Backstage Pass” as I refer to it, is more of the close to the mountains, glaciers, and trees. Everyone hard-to-reach places. These places are off the road system wants to really explore Alaska from the comfort and and only accessible by bush plane. These places are where safety of a remote lodge. In my opinion it is the best and you can truly get close and intimate with Alaska. The only way to get close to Alaska. further away from anything you can get the greater the adventure ahead. Alaskan Adventures lodge is just that So, if you are like most folks, you owe it to yourself to adventure. Being 237 miles due west of Anchorage by understand that once you step foot in Alaska, you are plane. There are no roads for many MANY miles. That opening pandoras box to a new travel and exploration bug. means there is NO TRAFFIC! No cell phone! No corner Alaska will grab your soul and continually pull you back stores! Nothing! At Alaskan Adventures lodge you will get again and again. Trust me, it is not a bad thing! So, buckle close to nature, and since your phone does not work, you up and enjoy the ride. We will see you soon enough. will be forced to interact with the people you are with and have a chance to rebuild those personal connections.

Simply said, sometimes we must disconnect to reconnect.

REAL E

EARTH NATURAL INSECT REPELLENT SAFE ON SKIN & GEAR realearthproducts.com

Why Fly?

By Dan Paull

Most of us anglers started fishing many years ago as kids casting the old Zebco 404 fishing rod or something similar. That could have opened the door to pandoras box to the thrill of fishing. Once the box has been opened, many have continued into a ripe old age, and are having just as much fun as the first time ever. Over time, many of us have learned that it is not the fish that we fish for, but the experience that fishing can provide. From going to far away magical places chasing fish that many have never even heard of, to just spending time with friends and family.

When I was 11 years old, I had saved enough money to purchase my first fly rod. By this time, I had caught many fish with conventional tackle and at the time I guess I thought I wanted to complicate my life and attempt to catch fish in a way I have never before.

At the time I had seen many TV shows and I remember watching some guy on the bow of a boat in salt water hooking a tarpon on the fly. I remember how amazing I thought that was and I just had to pick up a fly rod myself.

So, to Kmart I went and purchased a Diawa 6 Wt fly fishing rod and the cheapest reel I could afford. Where most kids wanted Legos, I had always migrated to the hunting and fishing section of the store. Now, at the time, I had no idea what a lot of things were related to fly fishing. I just knew I had to pick up the rod and learn how to cast. How many 11-year-old kids do you know spend hours on the front lawn whipping dandelions with a fly rod? Probably not many.

I spent hours and hours and attempt after attempt after attempt trying to mater the perfect cast. Still, to this day, I can remember my progression of casting farther and farther each time. Eventually I taught myself everything I see the guys in videos attempting to teach clients to do. At that time, I would just continually practice hitting targets at a distance with a fake fly on the end of the line, and have an absolute blast challenging myself while doing it.

It was a year later that a family friend, Ray, was going to Potter County PA for some camping & fly fishing and asked if I’d like to join. I bet the excitement on my face was that of a boy on Christmas morning as Santa just brought him the toy he has been hoping for the last year. At the time I still had that same Diawa rod, cheap reel, and tattered fly line, but it did not matter to me as I was FINALLY going to be casting a fly for trout.

If you don’t know anything about Potter County PA trout streams, I will explain a little. Better yet I can sum it up into one word…. BUSH! The area we were camping was right next to the stream. Before I arrived, I had no idea what to expect. So, when we arrived to find out we were right next to the stream, I remember I was beyond ecstatic as I was going to be able to fish ALL THE TIME. So as soon as I could I was rigged up and standing in the water.

I remember the first fly I ever tied on in an attempt to catch a trout, a Royal Coachman. The Royal Coachman is not a “match the hatch” type of fly but rather a fly to trigger a rise. Regardless, it was a great looking fly and at the time I remember I could only afford a few. As I stepped into the water to start fishing the plan was for me to fish downstream and Ray was going to fish upstream. As Ray left, I walked down the river a little to look for the perfect pool to cast a fly into.

Did I mention BUSH? Yes, this stream was COVERED in thick bush. This thick bush was never something I had expected, and certainly nothing I had ever thought I needed to account for. I recall spending at least 50% of my time attempting to untangle my line from getting caught in the trees on my back cast, and in many cases, losing most of my flies. I also recall actually making a few good casts and actually getting a trout to rise to the fly. SUCSESS! Yes, I was ecstatic that my first trip actually fly fishing was a success. However, as I recall, it wasn’t just the fishing or the catching that made it a success, but more of the experience of going somewhere new, doing something I have never done, spending time on the stream and with a good friend. I was hooked.

Years later, after being a first mate on charter boats and being a fishing guide, I still find that fly fishing grabs my attention as a first choice when chasing fish. I am far from being a purist when fly fishing because I believe that if your rod is bent and you are having fun, who cares how your catching fish!? To me, there is no place for ego in fishing, and no matter what my clients choose, it is a matter of how do you want to have fun? Fly, gear, trolling or however you want to fish, as long as it’s legal and you are having fun, I’m all for it!

For me personally, I still enjoy making that perfect cast to a distant target and perfecting my craft with fly tying. Fly tying is a delicate craft, and hand tying something a fish would recognize as something to eat and making that connection successfully is a satisfying talent to achieve. Beautiful fish live in beautiful places, and for me, the art of fly fishing will always be at the top of my list when accepting a new fishing challenge in a new far off location, just as when I was a young man.

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Hunt the Black Bears of the Kuskokwim Mountains, A Moose will Thank you

The Black Bear, an iconic American big game species, is one that inspires awe when seen up close. In the Kuskokwim Mountains of Alaska, Black Bears are plentiful. So much so, that Alaskan Fish & Game has to continually cull them to keep populations in check. This is due in part to Black Bears preying heavily upon Yukon Moose calves.

With Yukon Moose calving success rates in decline, Black Bears must be removed for these calving success rates to hopefully increase.

There is no shortage of places to hunt Black Bears within the United States and even Canada. Hunts can range from weekend outings at a bait site with a guide to week long backcountry hunts. I have personally hunted Black Bears across the United States, and I can say with absolute confidence I have never been on a more thrilling hunt than with Alaskan Adventures in the Kuskokwim Mountains of Alaska. Is it the cheapest Black Bear hunt you will find available? No, the flights into the remote bush alone are expensive for this hunt. Will you see a lot of Black Bears with a high chance of a successful spot and stalk harvest?

Absolutely. Will you see Grizzly Bears, Yukon Moose, Wolves, and other iconic Alaskan wildlife? Yes, most likely so. The chance to see a pack of wolves, a Grizzly, or giant Bull Moose alone makes the expensive flights well worth it. I remember glassing up a giant Bull Moose through my binoculars and staring at its massive antlers for hours as it navigated through the thick aspens. That memory is burnt into my brain and one I think of often. What an experience!

By Nathan Woleslagle

As well as a high chance of a successful harvest via spot and stalk hunting, the Kuskokwim Mountains of Alaska are a sight to behold. The mountains are stunning. They are not a tall mountain range with rough terrain such as the Rockies, they are very much a classic interior Alaska mountain range. The ground is barren atop the mountains in a tundra like state.

Blueberries and moss berries grow in immense abundance. So much so, that you can pick a handful of blueberries with no effort. The Black Bears feast on the berries all day long, and their scat resembles blueberry pie filling when you come across it. Trails can be found on the ridge tops of the Kuskokwim Mountains engraved into the rock of the ridges. These trails have been used for centuries by migrating Caribou herds now extirpated from most of the region, and now the plentiful Black and Grizzly Bears who traverse the ridges in a blueberry eating craze.

If you need any more inspiration or motivation to do this hunt, think back to the Yukon Moose. Each spring, Cow Moose desperately attempt to raise their calves to adulthood amid a landscape that is overpopulated with Black Bears. You are truly doing the Yukon Moose of the Kuskokwim Mountains a service in removing a Black Bear from the landscape. You are giving Moose calves a fighting chance at survival with the odds of bumping into bears decreased.

Come up to Alaskan Adventures with a Black Bear tag and prepare for adventure.

You will undoubtedly see Black Bears, have high odds of harvest, and you are acting as a true conservationist for the Yukon Moose. We hope to see you here! We’ll have a warm lodge, excellent meals, and memories to last a lifetime waiting here for you.

THE future

of

SALMON

If you watch the news or pay any attention to things happening in the natural world, it may come as no surprise that our planet is changing. One thing is for sure, in the last 50 years it seems as if we are watching things change before our very eyes.

I seem to remember when I was a kid some 35 years ago that winter came earlier and stayed a little longer. Based on what I see today, winters are later and seem to be more fleeting. One day it is super sunny and 70 and then the next day it is 10 degrees and blowing snow. Our weather patterns have come to extremes.

Not only are we looking at severe changes in weather patterns, along with that we are also seeing populations of wildlife change right before our eyes. Since most places are warming in temperature, ice formation is not what it used to be. Because of that it sounds like we are losing a large population of polar bears. Or are we? It is rare for animals in the natural world to cross breed, however since the ice has become scarce some polar bears have ventured more onto land and into Grizzly bear country. Years ago, there was “a” report of a hunter harvesting a crossbred “polargrizz.” As of recently this has been reported several more times. This leaves to question instead of losing a population could we be seeing evolution play out In front of our own eyes?

Or is this a downward trend that has not completely unfolded?

For an Alaskan Black bear a six-footer isn’t bad at all. Seven-footers have been killed in this area but don’t pass on a good six.

The next day, they had one last bear to find and finding this bear wasn’t too hard. It seems as if the hills and I will tell you those two stories to lead into my next. The next, has a lot of variables at play to the tune of do we point the finger at evolution, or do we point the finger at man's disaster? An even bigger question is what do we do?

When I was leaving Anchorage a couple of years ago, I stopped by a taxidermist to drop off a Sheefish to mount. It was not a monster “only 42”. While I was there, I got to know the taxidermist a little. They were closing the shop soon and moving to South Dakota. When I asked why, the explanation I got was that there just is not any fish there anymore. If you just read that, you surely must be as shocked as I was when hearing their decision. As was explained to me by the taxidermist, in the 1980’s it was nothing for them to receive 20 or so King Salmon a year over 70 lbs. Now she said if someone was to catch a single 40l pounder, they really did something special and none of those fish made it to the taxidermist. She went on to explain that sure there are salmon in the river and plenty to catch.

Sometimes in recent history, however, it is continually less and less, and they are smaller than they used to be.

A River in Time By Jeff Woleslagle He woke oddly refreshed and for the first time in a week his back didn’t hurt when he rose from the bed. “You were dreaming again George” Nancy said, as he walked into the kitchen. He reached for the coffee pot to fill a mug already waiting on the counter. “Was I?” he grinned. The dream was fresh in his 80-year-old mind and he was a little startled at having it for the second time in four days.

He had never been the kind to have recurring dreams or to even remember them at all really. Sure, there was the occasional odd one, that somehow slipped from your slumbering subconscious to the conscious, waking part of your brain, but those were usually quickly forgotten. Flowing from memory like dry sand through parted fingers. Everything about this dream seemed so vivid. So real.

The sights, the sounds, the smells, the landscape - all of it.

He recalled the first time he had the dream about three months ago. Back then, it wasn’t as clear. He remembered stringing his fly rod and making his way down a stone path to a beautiful river shrouded in morning mist. The day held promise he thought. Gazing through the low fog, he saw there was another angler already thigh deep in the flow and he looked vaguely familiar. He knew he recognized this person’s unique casting form and the rhythm and cadence with which he worked the line.

He tried to step into the inviting water and at that moment he woke up. The image would linger in his mind for much of the day and it was over dinner when he finally connected the casting form with the angler. His uncle James had been wounded in World War Two, on D-Day. Taking a piece of shrapnel to his left arm on the beaches of Normandy, he was lucky to leave that place alive.

The next time he had the dream, he waved to James standing in the middle of the river and James waved back. He went upstream so as not to disturb his uncle and at the base of the next pool was another angler already claiming it. This one had his back to George and again it was somehow familiar. When the fisherman turned to face the bank, George felt his chest tighten at the sight of his older brother. He hadn’t seen Max in so long he could barely remember. It had been what, 20 years since the accident? Probably many more than that. Max was known for his frugality and he wore an old tan vest that was threadbare in places. George had bought him a new one as a Christmas present, but it was a gift he never got the chance to deliver. The memories he had of the two of them fishing together washed over him in waves. There was the giant brown trout Max caught below the falls on a tributary to Lake Michigan that was as beautiful in coloration as it was large, stretching to almost 25 inches. George watched him fight the fish on the light tippet for almost 15 minutes before it came to the net. Max would wear the smile from that encounter for over a week. There was the time in the Adirondacks that they both took one step too many into a river that was running high. They lost their footing at the exact same time and were swept downstream to a small spit of sand jutting out into the flow.

There were some lost fly boxes as well as bruised bodies and equally bruised egos, but they were ok. They sat on the bank for a time in silence, cold and soaked to the bone, and then Max began to laugh that infectious laughter of his. Before he could stop himself, George too was busting a gut.

They laughed until their sides hurt and then Max said “Lets dry out and go get a cup of coffee. My treat.” George shot back with “You didn’t hit your head on a rock, did you?” In disbelief at his brother’s offer to buy. Again, a hearty round of laughter ensued. It was after that trip that they got matching wading sticks so they could always check the depth in front of them. Overcome at the sight of his brother, George lifted a foot to step into the current and make his way over and suddenly his eyes shot open. He looked at the bedroom ceiling and smiled. It was great to see Max again, if only in his sleep.

A week later, again the dream came to visit.

This time the air held that freshness that only the early morning hours can possess. A grouse was drumming on a distant log and the trout lilies were in the splendor of full bloom. Again, he waved to James as he walked along the path and worked his way upstream. When he got to the next pocket, Max was concentrating intently on a fish rising in front of him and George felt compelled to move up to the next pool. Rounding a bend, he immediately recognized the angler who sat on the far bank with his back against a sturdy oak tree. George froze in his tracks as he watched in disbelief. His father lifted the old blue steel rod from where it rested in the center of a forked stick that had been placed in the soft earth to hold it. He gave the rod a quick sweep to set the hook and there was a brief battle before he netted a gorgeous specimen of a brook trout. The small hook that was attached to the black cotton line had been baited with a lively red worm. He watched his dad carefully remove the hook and then add the trout to a small rope stringer which held three others, all about equal in size. His father then became aware of George’s presence and looked at his son and smiled.

He waved and George could see the calloused and rough hands of a man that had spent most of his life working hard to provide for his family. He didn’t fish much, but when he did he thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. In direct contrast to his hard-worn hands, he had blue eyes the color of faded denim that projected kindness and caring. When those eyes locked onto George’s, George was overcome with emotion. Here was the man who had taught him so much about the important things in life. So much of it George had learned just from his example, with few words being exchanged in the process. He went to wade across to embrace his dad and found himself suddenly wide awake. Best dream yet, George thought.

The following day as George was walking back to the house from the garden, he felt a sudden pressure in his chest. His left arm went from tingling to numb. Nancy saw him fall to his knees and she screamed as she ran toward him, already dialing for an ambulance. She cradled his head until she heard the wail of the sirens in front of the house.

Time stood still.

At the hospital, the monitor showed a flat line and she clutched his hand tightly. Not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. She would stand in that pose for over an hour before succumbing to exhaustion. As her hand slipped from his, he was gazing at a river shrouded in morning mist. He walked along the stone path and for the first time, when he stepped into the sparkling water he didn’t jerk awake. His uncle James motioned for him to come closer. He looked vibrant and happy. “One heck of a caddis hatch right now George. Got any in a size 14?”

ALASKAN ADVENTURES

ALASKAN ADVENTURES

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