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If an Alaskan fishing trip or vacation is your dream, the Kenai Riverfront Fishing Lodge is the affordable destination you seek. Located in Soldotna, on the world-famous river where the record 97-pound king salmon was caught, our lodge is just a 2 1/2-hour scenic drive from Anchorage. From our raised platforms and floating dock, you need no waders to sockeye, coho, pinks, kings, trout and Dolly Varden. Cook Inlet and its saltwater fisheries are close by, and from the nearby Soldotna airport you can take a sightseeing trip to view glaciers and wildlife. We have three lodges which will sleep up to 40 guests combined, and there is a conference or dining hall, fish-processing room, walk-in freezer and even a sauna to help make this the vacation of a lifetime. www.kenairiverfrontlodging.com
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ALASKA
SPORTING JOURNAL Volume 5 • Issue 6
www.aksportingjournal.com PUBLISHER James R. Baker ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER Dick Openshaw EXECUTIVE EDITOR Andy Walgamott EDITOR Chris Cocoles ASSOCIATE EDITOR Tom Reale WRITERS Paul D. Atkins, Dale Brandenburg, Christine Cunningham, Scott Haugen, Tiffany Haugen, Bixler McClure, Krystin McClure, Steve Meyer, Dennis Musgraves, Tom Reale, Dave Workman SALES MANAGER Brian Lull ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES Becca Ellingsworth, Mamie Griffin, Steve Joseph Mike Nelson, Mike Smith, Heidi Witt, Paul Yarnold DESIGNERS Dawn Carlson, Beth Harrison, Sonjia Kells PRODUCTION MANAGER John Rusnak PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Kelly Baker CIRCULATION MANAGER Heidi Belew DISTRIBUTION Tony Sorrentino, Gary Bickford OFFICE MANAGER / ACCOUNTS Audra Higgins ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT Katie Sauro INFORMATION SERVICES MANAGER Lois Sanborn ADVERTISING INQUIRIES ads@nwsportsmanmag.com ON THE COVER Throughout November, large coho salmon are pulled from the river system on the Kenai Peninsula. These are chrome-bright fish and among the best table fare Alaskan has to offer this time of year. (KRISTIN DUNN) Inset photo: This Sitka blacktail deer buck was harvested on Kodiak Island by Garrett Ham. (PAUL D. ATKINS)
MEDIA INDEX PUBLISHING GROUP WASHINGTON OFFICE 14240 Interurban Ave South • Suite 190 Tukwila, WA 98168 OREGON OFFICE 8116 SW Durham Rd • Tigard, OR 97224 (800) 332-1 736 • Fax (206) 382-9437 media@media-inc.com • www.media-inc.com 8 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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CONTENTS
VOLUME 5 • ISSUE 6
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FISHING WARRIORS
Correspondent Tom Reale jumped at the opportunity to join a float trip on the Kanektok River with some very special guests: Wounded Warriors and active-duty troops. Plenty of fish were caught, and the National Guard had a very special and tasty delivery for the fishermen. (TOM REALE)
FEATURES 46
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COLUMNS
GIVING THANKS, THE ALASKA WAY So what to do on arguably America’s most beloved holiday (sorry Christmas, you’re too chaotic and commercialized!)? In Alaska, getting out into the field for a hunt or even a cold-weather fishing trip is as part of Thanksgiving as that huge meal and watching football. Alaska resident Steve Meyer shares some of his Turkey Day traditions. BIG BUCKS ON KODIAK Paul D. Atkins roams all around Alaska in search of prized and storied big game like bears, moose and caribou. He also enjoys anunderrated hunt for the state’s healthy Sitka blacktail population. Atkins heads to Kodiak Island, loads up on bucks and reminds to not to overlook these deer when planning fall hunts north.
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BIRD’S THE WORD November is among the peak months for Alaska upland bird hunting as two stories this month showcase. First up are the husband-and-wife team of Krystin and Bixler McClure, who head into the rocky terrain around their Seward home to chase colorful spruce grouse. For a new culinary twist, try cooking your bird chicken-and-waffles style. RAIN, RAIN GO AWAY Our intrepid angler, Dennis Musgraves, headed to the Kenai for some coveted coho. But two obstacles seemed to get in the way: the surplus of pesky pink salmon in the river threatening to eat all the bait, and a dubious forecast of heavy rain in the area. But Musgraves and company managed just fine, thank you.
63 No Sympathy with Steve Meyer: Odds and ends 134 Loose Ends with Christine Cunnningham: Power (loss) trip
ALSO IN THIS ISSUE 13
The Editor’s Note
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Sportsman Channel’s Alaska-centric lineup
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Book excerpt: Grizzly Trade
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The lighter side of law enforcement in Alaska
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The Dishonor Roll: Caught hunting in Denali NP
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From Field to Fire: Chasing fall ptarmigan
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Proper care in the field for your hunting boots
125 Holiday gift guide 127 Alaska company profiles
Alaska Sporting Journal is published monthly. Call Media Index Publishing Group for a current rate card. Discounts for frequency advertising. All submitted materials become the property of Media Index Publishing Group and will not be returned. Annual subscriptions are $29.95 (12 issues) or $39.95 (24 issues). Send check or money order to Media Index Publishing Group, or call (206) 382-9220 with VISA or M/C. Back issues are available at Media Index Publishing Group offices at the cost of $5 plus tax. Copyright © 2014 Media Index Publishing Group. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording by any information storage or retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher. Printed in U.S.A.
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B.C. SALMON, HALIBUT, COD & STEELHEAD THE
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Fishmyster DOES IT ALL
ny patron of the “angling arts” will tell you that the supreme measurement of any professional fishing guide comes down to a singular question: How does that experienced, skilled guide make you feel about yourself? It is a tougher question than one might think, given the broad horizon of potential answers. For Allan Pearson, an earnest 26-year-old surf school manager from Tofino, British Columbia, fishing with Ken “The Fishmyster” Myers proved to be a remarkable experience. “Ken makes me feel like I’m a good fisherman,” Allan recently confirmed while surveying a fish-hold loaded with limits of Chinook salmon, halibut and cod. His comments came at the end of an outstanding day of fishing with Ken in the Barkley Sound region off the west coast of Vancouver Island, BC. “Ken’s passion is amazing,” Allan continued. “He is so open to sharing information. He answers all questions – even the dumb ones! Ken explains where we’re fishing, why we’re there, all details, including methods and tactics. Honestly, I didn’t know fishing guides like Ken even existed!” High praise, indeed, but not at all surprising given Ken’s extensive experience. Born and raised in Port Alberni on Vancouver Island and based in Ucluelet, Ken has spent the past 25 years as a professional tidal and freshwater guide. Unlike most of his contemporaries, however, Ken provides his guide services 12 months of the year. Spring and summer are spent on the Pacific Ocean chasing trophy kings, “barndoor” halibut and monster cod, all from his luxurious, state-of-the-art fishing machine – a Fountain 38IX powered by three (that’s right, THREE) 300HP Mercury Verado engines. Ken “The Fishmyster” Myers (left) put Alex When fall rolls around, Ken treats his guests to some of the world’s finest steelhead fisheries. Morrow on this 27-pound king salmon. “I have been fishing these Vancouver Island rivers since I was a kid, and I know them as well as anybody. Just because the tidal opportunities tail off by October is no reason to stop fishing. Many of my clients fish with me in both summer and winter. Different methods, different fisheries, but still great fishing,” explains Ken. Allan and his friends who joined him on this trip represent the new generation of anglers: young, fit and up for everything. The fact that these young men and women – children of the ‘Baby Boomer’ generation – are so keen bodes well for the future of West Coast fiheries. All five species of Pacific salmon – Chinook (kings), coho (silvers), pink, sockeye and chum – travel the tidal waters in the Barkley Sound region, and creel surveys indicate that many of these runs are once again on the rise. Likewise, Allan and his friends are prepared to provide the stewardship that is required to ensure these magnificent salmon runs remain vibrant for future generations. Ken’s boat, the MV Overkill, is fully loaded with cutting-edge navigation systems; personal floatation; life raft; stabilizers (for added comfort while trolling); an Espar furnace (for those chilly Pacific Northwest mornings); a fully functioning head, and loads of deck space. Ken also treats his guests to “nothing but the best” when it comes to fishing gear: Islander Reels and Sage rods, and an array of tackle that would humble any tackle Wes Hartman hoists a 74-pound halibut while store. “The Overkill just adds to Jeff Morrow (left) and Ken “The Fishmyster” the complete experience. Myers (right) soak up the experience. It is an unbelievable fishing machine – amazing to fish from because there is so much space and it is so solid on the water. Of course, having 900 hp on the back is just so cool. Getting to and from the fishing grounds is a snap!” Allan gushed. Ken is currently booking for winter steelheading. Prime dates for September 2015’s tidal season are still available, but they quickly book up. Contact Ken directly on his cell at 250.720.5118, email him at; fishmyster@shaw.ca. Visit Ken’s website at fishmyster.com.
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EDITOR’S NOTE
Dale Brandenburger’s three-plus decades working for the Alaska Department of Fish and Game has inspired him to write about his adventures. (DALE BRANDENBURGER)
D
ale Brandenburger has a lot to talk about. That’s why you hope his new book, Grizzly Trade, inspires him to express everything he’s seen in over three decades exploring the flora and fauna of Alaska. Lower 48ers are always intrigued to know what goes on throughout the vast emptiness of Alaska – what secrets do these mysterious places hold? You can check out an excerpt in this issue of Brandenburger’s first novel, based on his own experiences during his career as an Alaska Department of Fish and Game technician. As you’ll read, Brandenburger says he has “enough material to fill 10 volumes” with his adventures. And let’s face it: Alaska is full of mystery and freedom; full of beauty and danger; full of the fear of the fear of the unknown and excitement of the unknown. Alaskans are sandpaper-tough, and Brandenburger discovered that toughness when he fled north after he studied journalism at the University of Maryland. As the editor of one of ASJ’s sister publications, California Sportsman, I am fortunate to have California Department of Fish and Wildlife biologist Tim Hovey on our staff. Besides being an avid angler and hunter who shares how-to tips, Hovey has written a series of stories about his adventures in the field: encountering suspected illegal aliens near the California-Mexico border; running into a mischievous black bear that proceeded to make a meal out of Hovey’s pack; finding an overturned vehicle on a remote road with a depressed driver and a machete in the front seat. These guys have seen a lot of crazy stuff. Brandenburger wrote an unpublished manuscript – “a dark, depressing novel before I really knew much about Alaska,” he says – that he calls “my practice novel.” He’s already started to work on a new book, set 10 years into the future when an Alaskan town is conflicted by the introduction of new technology. Let’s hope there are more ideas of his to read. –Chris Cocoles NOVEMBER 2014
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ALL THINGS ALASKA PALIN, JOYS OF HUNTING AND SURVIVAL PART OF SPORTSMAN CHANNEL LINEUP By Chris Cocoles
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he boom of Alaska-based reality television showcasing the state’s wild side doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. The Sportsman Channel brings some big bats to its fall/winter lineup, including a new season of former vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin’s Alaskan outdoor lifestyle show; everyone’s favorite carnivore, Steven Rinella; and brothers Chris and Casey Keefer’s latest surviving-in-the -middle-of-nowhere adventure. Here’s a look at what the Sportsman Channel will and is currently offering viewers in search of more, wild Alaska TV:
Amazing America With Sarah Palin
Sarah Palin, former Alaska governor and 2008 vice presidential candidate, returns to the Sportsman Channel this winter with her show, Amazing America With Sarah Palin. (SPORTSMAN CHANNEL)
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Love her or hate her, Sarah Palin makes no bones about who she is, and in this social media-obsessed culture, the former Alaska Governor looks the part as quite a presence in front of the camera. She was one of the stars of the 2008 Presidential Election as running mate to John McCain. That McCain-Palin ticket was defeated by Barack Obama, of course, but Palin seemed to get as much as attention as the candidates for president during the campaign. Palin landed on the cover of Time and Newsweek (Time twice named her as one of the “100 Most Influential People in the World”); spawned memorable parodies like Saturday Night Live’s Tina Fey (Palin even made a cameo to poke fun at herself); she was also the main subject – for better or worse – of a Golden Globe- and Emmy Award-winning HBO film, Game Change, that starred Julianne Moore and depicted McCain’s the 2008 campaign strategy and Palin’s role in it. NOVEMBER 2014
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Steven Rinella is passionate about hunting and even more passionate about cooking and eating what he harvests. His Sportsman Channel series, MeatEater, celebrates both of his loves. (SPORTSMAN CHANNEL)
Palin remains a polarizing figure these days – she is a three-time New York Times best-selling author (Going Rogue, America By Heart and Good Tidings and Great Joy) – but has returned to her Alaska roots on her successful Sportsman Channel series. The first season of Amazing America with Sarah Palin featured 12 episodes and included an anthology of stories that explored some of the most original, unique – and often inspiring – people, places and pastimes connected to America’s outdoor lifestyle. Palin, the original “Mama Grizzly” and “First Lady of the Outdoors,” took viewers across the United States into what Sportsman Channel calls “Red, Wild and Blue America.” The show helped propel the network to triple-digit yearover-year growth in households and key male demographics. “We’re really excited about the second season of Amazing America,” Palin says. “We’re working on stories about people that go above and beyond to help others, really inspirational stuff that will encourage the entire nation.” The second season of Amazing America will include 12 episodes featuring exciting stories about inspiring American outdoor enthusiasts, craftsmen, as well as other notable Americans who go out of their way to help others. The second season will launch in the first quarter of 2015. “The return of Amazing America is great news for the network,” said Marc Fein, executive vice president of programming and production for Sportsman Channel. “Sportsman Channel has experienced tremendous growth this year and Sarah Palin’s involvement has proved to be an exciting boon for our network and programming initiatives.”
MeatEater With Steven Rinella Rinella, who appeared in our sister publication, California Sportsman, in the July 2013 issue, is a big-game NOVEMBER 2014
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Chris Keefer and his brother, Casey, rely on their outdoor and hunting skills when left in the remote Alaskan wilderness on their show, Dropped: Project Alaska 2.0, which had its season premiere this fall. (SPORTSMAN CHANNEL)
hunter and advocate for eating what you harvest as an education to the
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anti-hunting movement. As he stated in his interview with this publication back then, “ “When people eat wild game that’s carefully prepared, and they have a really memorable meal without having any expectations of it being so enjoyable, they come away from a wild game dinner with a favorable impression of hunting and being a firearm owner.” MeatEater just completed its fifth season on the Sportsman Channel. The Michigan native hunts all over North America, including Alaska, and will return to The Last Frontier when the show’s new season premieres in early 2015. “Steven is a master storyteller and does a great job of engaging viewers and making them feel a part of the adventure,” says Fein. “His breadth of hunting and culinary knowledge is exceptional.” Rinella also prepares tasty game dishes during his “field to plate” approach of preparing game. “I hope our viewers bring a healthy
appetite and willing pallet when they tune in,” he says.
Dropped: Project Alaska 2.0 Siblings Chris and Casey Keefer (see sidebar) can’t get enough of being dropped in remote places with little food, little direction and only one goal: survive by hunting. They were first “dropped” in Alaska in 2011 and made television history by floating on a remote river for 28 days. New episodes of Dropped: Project Alaska 2.0, can be seen on Thursdays at 8 p.m. on the Sportsman Channel. The Keefers’ new Alaskan adventure began by traveling 80 river miles to their extraction spot while carrying only 100 pounds of gear each in their backpacks. They had no provisions – all their gear was for catching or killing their food and then preparing it. They are once again floating downriver to remote land. “Dropped has proven to be a very exciting and adventure-filled program that Sportsman Channel viewers
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DROPPED IN THE WILDERNESS Brothers Chris and Casey Keefer don’t mind roughing it one bit. Both longtime hunters, Chris and Casey have shot three installments of their Sportsman Channel series, Dropped. The third installment of the siblings’ adventures being in bear-infested Alaskan bush premiered in October as Dropped: Project Alaska 2.0. The Keefers talked about their passion for surviving Mother Nature:
Brothers Casey and Chris Keefer must use their own survival skills to adapt to being left in the wilderness in their Sportsman Channel show, Dropped: Project Alaska 2.0. (SPORTSMAN CHANNEL)
Q You are taking us back to the beautiful backcountry of Alaska for your third Dropped series. Why go back there? What does it hold for you guys? Chris Keefer Alaska really gets us back to where it all began for us. Alaska is so wild and untamed. It also gives us a chance to go unguided once again. Casey and I really excel when it’s just us, alone in the wilderness. There’s a certain peace knowing we control our own destiny.
Q Tell us about these grizzly encounters. Were you expecting to see them? What did you do that was right – or wrong? What advice would you give someone in that situation? Casey Keefer We absolutely expected encounters with grizzlies since the river we were on had a huge fall silver salmon run, but that doesn’t prepare you to face an angry sow at 30 yards on a dead charge. You get a small sense of security knowing we’re able to carry a sidearm, but in all honesty, for us it’s an absolute last resort. You just really need to be aware of your surroundings, assess each situation and make the safest possible decision for the entire crew.
Q You are once again on a river float – why choose that versus any other means of transportation? For example, you used horses in Dropped: Yukon. What are the pros and cons of the river as hunters/survivalists? Chris K. The river just feels like home to us. The ebbs and flows of the current, 20 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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the sounds of the water and rock, the ability to have clean drinking water anytime and the significance of the river providing food is huge for us. I also like the fact that I don’t have to feed my raft. Casey K. I’m a fly fishing junkie, so being on the water is just second nature to me. The river represents life for us and for the game we chase, so it’s symbolic of what Dropped really is all about – being alive.
Q In the trailer, we can see real close video shots with what looks like a GoPro camera. Technology has advanced so much since your first Dropped in 2011 – tell us what other devices you brought on this trip to help tell the story that were not available before? Chris K. From our first season of Dropped to Dropped: Project Alaska 2.0, the advances in technology and production is staggering. In 2011, the DSLR craze was really at its peak, so telling a story visually through those cameras was new and exciting for us. We had GoPro Hero 1’s for the first Dropped, but they pale in comparison from a quality standpoint to the Hero 3 Blacks we took on 2.0. We were also able to integrate frame rate shooting, which, until a year or two ago, was virtually impossible for any camera
under $40,000. We were able to evoke the emotion that a slow-motion-framerate camera can create in 2.0 for under $8,000.
Q How do you solve the simple stuff that no one thinks about – like keeping camera batteries charged? Chris K. From day one, we knew that producing in the remote settings that Dropped puts us in would be a challenge. We sought out the best solar systems for charging our camera batteries, laptops and POV Cameras and found Brunton Solar to be the most reliable. We’ve used the Brunton Solar equipment for the last three seasons and it has operated for us flawlessly. Our production depends on power in the middle of nowhere, and they have given us the confidence to tell our story visually with great production gear. Q Are you hunters in this series – or survivalists? Casey K. From day one, we wanted to make Dropped a different experience for our viewers. We wanted to tell a story that is more complex than just hunting or surviving, Dropped is really a hybrid of both. Chris K. In each season of Dropped, our
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can’t get enough of,” says Graig Hale, vice president of business development for Sportsman Channel. “The Keefer brothers are entertaining, extreme adventurists who are also skilled outdoorsmen. The combination makes for a great television program.” “The first two series of Dropped earned phenomenal coverage from both a survivor angle and hunting angle,” says Casey Keefer. “Our fans couldn’t get enough of seeing us suffer. We have to get our bodies – and minds – in serious shape before attempting these treks. It is a true test of stamina, grit and brotherly love.” ASJ Editor’s note: Information for this story was provided by the Sportsman Channel public relations department. For more information on these and other Sportsman Channel shows, go to the network’s website (sportsmanchannel.com). Follow the network on Twitter (@SPORTSMANchnl) and like it on Facebook (facebook.com/ sportsmanchannel).
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main goal is obviously to survive and return in one piece to our families. In order to do that there is also an element of hunting and fishing that has to be done to stay alive. I would consider us “bush savvy” more than anything else.
Q Blood runs thicker than water – do you think you could have done these trips with anyone else in the world other than your brother? Or is the adventure so intense in parts that you need someone who knows your language without speaking? Casey K. I couldn’t actually imagine doing this without my brother, but who knows where things will go from here. We’re always looking to try new things with the Series, so integrating other people into Dropped is something we’ve done for Season 4. In this season Chris and I were separate; that’s about all I can tell you. Chris K. Spending the last three seasons of Dropped in the Bush with Casey has actually been some of the best
times of my life. We’ve always been close from a sibling standpoint, but surviving together in the rugged terrain that Dropped takes us to has definitely drawn us closer and given us memories we’ll cherish forever, long after our TV shows.
Q You just returned from Alaska where you were dropped this time with a winner of a Dropped contest you held in the summer of 2014. How excited were those guys on winning? And how do you work with someone in a remote area that you knew nothing about? Would you host a similar contest again? Chris K. Dropped, Season 4 provided us with so many firsts I don’t even know where to begin. Let me say that yes, they were excited; yes, we would do it again. I’ll let the series tell the story of spending that much time in a remote area like Alaska with someone you’ve never met. Let me just say it was interesting. Sportsman Channel
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A GRISLY SCENE Editor’s note: The following is an excerpt from Grizzly Trade, a novel by longtime Alaska Department of Fish and Game biologist Dale Brandenburger and published by Luminare Press of Eugene, Ore. By Dale Brandenburger
Alkoot, Alaska, 1992 A week had passed since Red found the corpse behind his cabin and called the state trooper. He didn’t have a phone in his dilapidated shack. He had to drive 5 miles down a rutted dirt road to use the payphone that hung on the wall outside the ferry terminal. Red knew what it was straight off; murder for profit, plain and simple. A large-caliber bullet had pierced the brown bear’s skull just below her right
Let he who kills God’s creatures for pleasure And leave to linger until wanton waste Forsake a fortune of earthly treasure And rush to hollow death with haste To land at hell’s infernal door Where no light shall fall upon his face To gaze upon the grass no more As Satan lays his soul to waste For the lord of the land hath decreed And the grizzled killer best had heed For he who commits the bloody deed Has made a grizzly trade indeed ear, ricocheted off some bone, and exited from the left side of her neck. A NOVEMBER 2014
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AUTHORIZED
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The author went to college at the University of Maryland and studied journalism before finding his niche in Alaska. (DALE BRANDENBURGER)
precise incision, probably made with a razor-sharp hunting knife, slit the bear’s hide, and the gall bladder had been removed. All four paws had been hacked off with a bone saw, leaving the flesh ragged, the bone splintered. The coagulated blood was crusty, the color of Burgundy wine, and crawling with black flies. Driving to the payphone, wedged behind the wheel of his tiny Datsun pickup truck, Red pulled on his curly red beard and wondered how much a bear gall bladder and a set of paws fetched on the aphrodisiac market in China.
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SEVEN LONG DAYS had passed and he was still having trouble getting the grizzly image of the carcass out of his head. Crouching in the shadows beneath a huge spruce tree, listening intently as the breeze whispered lightly through the branches close to his head, he gazed out at the gray beach. A tendril of mist swirled ghost-like over the water. He smelled the spruce buds and heard the water gently lapping at the shore. Red tried to see, hear and smell everything around him at the same time, hoping that by focusing his attention on every detail, he’d stop thinking about the mutilated bear.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder, leaned into a spruce branch until it snapped, then cranked it back and forth, wrestling it from the trunk of the tree. He used the bough like a broom as he walked backwards across the beach, lightly sweeping his footprints from the sand. When he reached the water’s edge, he hopped onto a log and swept away the last set of tracks. Anyone who hiked down this rugged stretch of the coast would not see where he had entered the forest. Better safe than sorry. It was bad enough that the state trooper had come to his cabin. Although he was smart enough to never leave anything incriminating at his cabin, he didn’t like cops in general and that cop in particular. He scampered along the log, surprisingly nimble for a large man in his forties. Living in the Alaska forest for the past 20 years had kept him strong and agile. The back of Red’s neck began to tingle. He looked over his shoulder and scanned the beach once more, but it was just a breeze beginning to blow from the southeast, not the tingling sensation he had when he thought he was being watched. The bruised sky
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WHY I LOVE TO WRITE
Bears have been a big part of the author’s career in the Alaskan wilderness. (DALE BRANDENBURGER)
I started out writing clichéd short stories and bad poetry in middle school. By the time I hit high school, I knew I wanted to be a writer and wrote for the high school paper, then went onto the University of Maryland for journalism. I wanted to be a novelist, but I was just a kid from the suburbs who hadn’t experienced anything worth writing about; so in 1982 I moved up to Alaska looking for adventure. I wanted to be the next Hemingway or Norman Mailer. In 1984 I began working for (the Alaska Department of Fish and Game) as a fish and wildlife technician, having adventures and meeting an array of crazy characters. The job was spectacular and I got to travel to a lot of remote areas. I kept a journal and wrote stories, but I worked hard, too. My boss took notice, scraped together some money and told me to go back to school and get an environmental science degree. The writing took a backseat for a while as I concentrated on becoming a fisheries biologist. It’s been 32 years since I came to Alaska and now I have enough material to fill 10 volumes and time to write. I wanted to differentiate myself from other Alaskan authors. I read everything I could find about Alaska and I found that the writing usually fell into one of two categories. Some writers took a folksy approach or wrote poetically about nature. Although some of the writing was beauti-
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Photo: Ed Sozinho
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“It’s been 32 years since I came to Alaska and now I have enough material to fill 10 volumes and time to write,” the author says. (DALE BRANDENBURGER)
threatened rain and darkness was falling fast. He jumped from the log onto a large granite rock, still trying his best not to leave prints in the sand.
WHEN RED’S PAROLE officer, a sincere but annoying do-gooder, heard about the poaching incident, he was afraid
Red would go renegade. Referring several times to Red’s anger management issues, he’d given Red a book on Zen Buddhism and suggested he take up meditation. Red promised he would give it a try and, surprisingly, he had found the book interesting. He’d just spent two days at his secret camp, sitting on the edge of a cliff, counting his breaths and contemplating his navel with his third eye. He traversed the next stretch of coast, a series of tidal pools dotted with small boulders, and tried to practice being present by repeating his mantra, Now, now, now as he leaped from rock to rock to rock, but his mind kept flashing on the image of the dead bear. He felt the blood rush to his head. (How do you not think? If I try not to think, then I’m thinking about not thinking. This is bull@#$t. Those Zen monks are a bunch of liars, claiming their minds are like polished mirrors. Those guys are thinking about women and rice wine, just like every other Tom, Dick
ful, it just didn’t grab me. The other group rehashed the old Jack London themes, dire writings about man’s struggle against nature, and they were page-turners, but when I looked around me, I didn’t see people striving. I saw people thriving. Their lives were grand and, above all, I found most Alaskans were funny people with a great sense of humor. I tried to incorporate that into my writing. I finally found my voice. I used to write dark, brooding stuff but as soon as I started mixing humor with the pathos, the writing became much easier. It was like a dam broke and the novel just came pouring out. A lot of the novel is based on events that actually happened over the years that I wrote about in my journals but, of course, the characters are an amalgam of several people and the events are combined and compressed into a tight time frame to give the story a nice narrative arc. Sure, the dark stuff is still there, but there are a lot of funny parts as well. I just hope my readers will have as much fun reading Grizzly Trade as I had writing it. -DB
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and Hari Kari.) He kicked a mussel off a rock and sent it skittering across the water. (If a monk ever asks me what’s the sound of one hand clapping, I’m going to smack him right in the face. That’ll get him thinking. I wasted two days sitting around. Maybe I should have tracked down those poachers.) Purple veins pulsed on his neck and his pale skin flushed crimson as he thought once again about the dead bear. Balancing on one foot, he punted another mussel into the sea, lost his balance, and crumpled onto the rock he’d been perched on. Red rolled off the boulder into the tidal pool and gripped his scraped elbow, cursing. Frigid water soaked his jeans as he sat up in the shallow tidal pool. He gasped, stood up and peered into the trees, making sure nobody had seen him tumble off the rock. Then Red began to laugh wildly. Now I know the sound of one hand clapping. Red heard his sopping wool
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socks squish inside his boots as he stepped out of the pool. He bent and picked a stalk of oyster leaf at the edge of the water. He chewed on it as he gazed out beyond the inlet at the snow-capped mountains, jagged like broken teeth. The oyster leaf, pungent and briny, tasted like the sea. He felt the first drops of rain falling on his face. The monks say all of life is an illusion but who could dream a dream this beautiful. Certainly not a soaking-wet nitwit like me. He thought about gathering some mussels from the tide pool but he was already shivering and the last gray light of day was fading to black. He hurried down the beach, smiling at his own buffoonery. When he was almost to the road he saw tracks where a brown bear had meandered along the water’s edge. The tracks were different than black bear tracks, the toes closer together and in a straight line. The breeze still tickled the back of his neck. Red figured the bear had
got wind of him and was long gone. Still, he pulled his rifle off his shoulder, chambered a round, and switched on the safety. He had a great respect for bears. He followed the tracks until they veered off into the forest. Then he saw the boot prints and scarlet beads of blood in the sand. No, not again. He slung the rifle over his shoulder, pulled a flashlight from his jacket pocket and charged into the gloomy underbrush. A few minutes later he found the dead bear, blood still draining onto the forest floor where the paws had been sawed off. Red dropped the flashlight, raised his arms and pulled at his hair. All the anger and anguish of a lifetime boiled up inside him. He howled into the darkness. Red had an anger management issue. ASJ Editor’s note: Grizzly Trade is available for purchase on Amazon.com and at bookstores throughout Southeast Alaska.
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ANCHORAGE Anchorage Yamaha Suzuki Marine 3919 Spenard Rd (907) 243-8343 www.anchorageyamaha.com BETHEL Swanson’s Power Sports and Marina 750 Front St (907) 543-3251 www.omnialaska.com/page3.html FAIRBANKS Northern Power Sports 1980 Van Horn Rd (907) 452-2762 www.northernpowersports.com HOMER All Seasons Honda Suzuki 1275 Ocean Dr (907) 235-8532 www.allseasonshonda.net KODIAK Emerson Boat Works 816 East Marine Way (907) 486-0602 www.emersonboats.com SOLDOTNA Peninsula Powersports 44868 Trevor Ave (907) 262-4444 www.peninsulapowersports.com NOVEMBER 2014
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AND NOW, THE LIGHTER SIDE SOMETIMES EVEN OFFICERS NEED TO LAUGH
By Steve Meyer
orders and vanished for the next 14 years – until by a quirk of fate, he was fishing ife in the law ennear the village of Tyonek, forcement business Alaska, where he had is wrought with sad been living when a Fish stories, and the holiday and Wildlife Trooper hapseason is the worst of pened along. Checking his times. license, the trooper ran his More than any othhistory and discovered the er part of the calendar, outstanding parole warthe ability to find humor rant from California. in sadness keeps one Since he had essentialfrom eating their pisly stayed out of trouble for tol this time of year. It all those years, California brings with it a jump in decided he didn’t need to domestic violence (the go back to prison, so they holidays seem to bring requested, would Alaska out the worst in people), supervise him on parole? more DUI arrests, more That was how I ended up thievery, and on and on. supervising him. With that, though, there The man moved to Keare a lot of funny things nai and seemed like a dethat happen in the busicent enough guy. His parole ness of trying to get folks conditions were explained, just to be good citizens. one of which was not to This seems like a consume alcohol. Well, in good time to share some all those years in Tyonek of those I’ve been inhe had no use for a drivvolved in: er’s license. He was told he would have to get one if he Your driver’s license, was going to be driving. please The very next day This man was living around 10 a.m., I received with an exotic dancer in a call from the local DMV; California and it seems my parolee was there atthe relationship was rathtempting to get a driver’s er volatile. Occasionallicense and seemed to be ly she would stab him, Alaska Wildlife Trooper Mike Henry shares a light moment with fellow intoxicated. Maybe I could though not seriously officers during Special Emergency Response Team training. This is obvienough to incite a call ously a high-stress profession, but as the author points out, the occasional come over and take care of humorous moment can be cathartic. (ALASKA ARCTIC WARRIORS) the problem? to the authorities. Then Sure enough, he was drunk, providing one night, she stabbed a bit more than what they are in California (always a breath sample that registered well over he thought was OK, so he shot her. She overflowing), he was paroled a couple twice the legal limit. On the way to jail he didn’t die and he ended up with a 15of years into the sentence. said he thought drinking in Alaska was year prison sentence. Prisons being When released, he ignored his parole
L
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eventually, one will tire of the law enforcement presence interfering with their other nefarious activities and provide some decent information that leads to an arrest and makes the law enforcement folks go away. Around 10 a.m. that morning, we ended up at a cabin occupied by someone several of us knew from previous encounters. He answered the door – naked – and invited us in where a couple of other people were sitting around a small bar. He was pleasant enough and said the guy we were looking for wasn’t there but we could search his place. I said to him, “Danny, you might want to cover that thing up.” He replied, “I’m going to be using it as soon as you guys leave.”
not a big deal and didn’t think anyone would pay attention.
Dig deeper
Administration never allowed our Special Emergency Response Team to operate very much outside of extreme circumstances. Despite our relentless begging to go do warrant service that were always out there, we rarely were granted permission. Evidently, the perceptions of the public created a bothersome liability issue for those who sit in offices. But occasionally, when someone had been hanging out too long on a significant warrant we would get to go hunt them down. For months a man with a $50,000 felony warrant had been eluding law enforcement contact and arrest. So we were given the go-ahead to get him. Information developed led to us being at one of the rural bars in Nikiski on a cold winter night. Setting a couple of team Brush with fate members at the corners of During my life as a the rear of the building, we law enforcement offientered the bar to find our cer I did a fair amount guy had gotten the word of prisoner transportaand fled out the back door. tion work, sometimes Daron Cooper of the Alaska State Troopers in Girdwood takes time out to smile We headed out the back while checking his smartphone. Interacting with eccentric prisoners can proinstate from one corand expected our guy to vide some comic relief in a job filled with many more somber moments. (ALASKA rectional facility to be cuffed up and waiting ARCTIC WARRIORS) another, and in others transport to jail. out of state to move prisoners to Alaska’s bers moved around into the path of the No way: Our officers posted outside “rental” prisons, and occasionally to ex“mole.” Upon running into the boots hadn’t seen anything, and it seemed he tradite prisoners from other states. Movblocking the way under the snow, the had vanished into thin and very cold air. ing prisoners with mental health issues, mole jumped up and exclaimed, “@#&%! There was a large, flat, snow-covered especially on commercial airlines, had its I knew that snow wasn’t deep enough.” field behind the bar and we swept it with moments. One such individual had been flashlights. The answer revealed itself in housed in a drunk tank at the booking faThe naked truth the form of what appeared to be a very cility for four days, had not slept, had a lot A warrant that had been hanging for a large mole borrowing under the snow of conversations with folks who had been while allowed us to go flush out another some 20 yards from the bar. dead many years, and wouldn’t eat. bad guy. Sometimes, all you can do is go With a chuckle, a couple team memThe decision to send him to the psyfrom one notorious individual to another; 40 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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chiatric ward was made and I was given the job of transporting him by commercial airline. Knowing how these things go, I arrived with plenty of time to sort things out. Sorting things this time revealed the guy smelled a lot worse than the typical barnyard animal. He needed a shower before being exposed to the public. So into the shower room we went and he complied with instructions to shower and seemed to be doing OK. I handed him a toothbrush and toothpaste thinking instructions probably were not required. He took the items, set the toothpaste on a sink ledge, stared at the toothbrush for a bit and then began using it in the exact opposite place it was intended for. Well, I thought, this is different. After a few minutes of this he brought the toothbrush up to his face, looked at it for a while, stuck it in his mouth and happily brushed his teeth.
izona, to Anchorage, where they were loaded in vans to distribute to various prisons. My partner and I had 10 prisoners to go to the Spring Creek Facility in Seward. Heading south just after the sun came up, the van load started complaining about needing to go to the bathroom. Well, you can’t just let folks suffer, so we stopped at one of the scenic pullouts south of Beluga Point that overlook Turnagain Arm. Minutes later, all 10 prisoners were lined up on the jagged rocks, all dressed in bright orange jumpsuits, a nice breeze blowing, relieving themselves in choreographed unison. It was one of those times when you wished for a camera, but probably better you didn’t have one. Fortunately, that was before smartphones or it likely would have made evening news, or worse, blown up Twitter and Facebook.
How do you spell relief? The U.S. Marshals Service had flown 90 Alaska prisoners from Phoenix, Ar-
Mail bag I was writing a presentence report
on a prisoner who had killed another prisoner, his cellmate. This individual was already serving a life sentence for murder. Part of the presence report process is reviewing all the evidence presented in the case. Going through the myriad of detailed information there was a letter the guy had written to a family member during the holidays. It started out with this and that, and then he penned this: “He was maybe in some trouble because he had some issue with his cellmate and had killed him; how are the kids?” After 23 years of seeing the suffering many go through as a result of poor choices and circumstances and sometimes just being knuckleheads, it will be nice not to have the burden of those thoughts and actually enjoy the holiday season. ASJ Editor’s note: The author, a regular Alaska Sporting Journal contributor, is a retired Alaska State Troopers S.E.R.T. team leader.
WORK TO WOODS
If it was up to them, Sean Bohince and his two sons would live in a tree stand. But Mom said no. So instead, they set their sights on the Camo Active Jac, Realtree Xtra®. It’s perfect for caulking on the job and stalking in the woods. So they can disappear into the trees once the workday ends. We call it the work to woods jacket. And because bagging a trophy elk is a true-blue American tradition, we’re proud as heck to say it’s the only Camo jacket with Realtree Xtra® made right here in the US of A. Go from work to woods with Carhartt Camo.
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HUNTERS TAKE MOOSE INSIDE DENALI NP BY CHRIS COCOLES
J
ust as conservationist Charles Alexander Shelton envisioned back in 1906 before it was made a national park, the area around Mount McKinley – now known as Denali National Park – is preserved for future generations to enjoy the park’s flora and fauna. Hunting? It’s only allowed in the Denali National Preserve in its western boundaries. Hunters who do get within that area are recommended to carry a GPS to stay within the legal coordinates. That two hunters now being charged with taking a moose in the protected area had been carrying such a device with them only adds to their negligence.
The hunters, who hail from the Matanuska Valley, near Anchorage, pled dumb, telling National Park Service rangers they didn’t know the shooting took place inside the park, but the report stated they also had a map and regulation book with them. That probably won’t help their case. According to a National Park Service release, “Two hunters had entered the park via an off-road vehicle and had shot a moose within the park. National Park Service rangers responded that night but could not contact the reporting party. … Early Monday morning rangers made contact with the reporting party and could see the hunters’ camp, including meat hanging from a pole. … While following the (vehicle) trail to the camp to contact the two men, rangers passed three visible park boundary markers, one approximately 3
Two hunters, despite having a GPS in their possession, shot a Denali National Park moose within the boundaries of the park, which will lead to charges for hunting in a protected area. (KENT MILLER/ NATIONAL PARK SERVICE)
feet from the trail used by the hunters.” For those wanting to hunt in the Denali National Preserve, guided hunts must be with NPS-authorized guides. Perhaps these guys would be better served to hire such a guide as well.
OUTDOOR CALENDAR
NOVEMBER 1 Start of deer season in Game Management Unit (GMU) 5 1 Start of second goat season in GMUs 7 and 15 1 Start of archery and muzzleloader deer season in GMU 8 1 Start of nonresident bull moose season in GMU 22B 15 Start of GMU 3 bull elk season (with gun) 15 Start of moose season in GMU 5 Note: Consult the Alaska Department of Fish and Game website (adfg.alaska.gov) for more information on hunting season dates, regulations and GMU’s.
Kodiak Island features gorgeous scenery for fall hunters. (PAUL D. ATKINS) NOVEMBER 2014
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TURKEY DAY TRADITIONS HOLIDAY HUNTING A PART OF ALASKAN’S SOUL A tradition of hunting, gathering
By Steve Meyer
W
here are you going for Thanksgiving,” someone asked. “The mountains,” I
replied. “Who lives there?” They genuinely wanted to know why. In reality it was ptarmigan that lived there. Since childhood the Thanksgiving holiday has only meant one thing to me, hunting. Before reaching the age when carrying a gun was allowed, hunting was a mainstay of the Thanksgiving holiday in my family. The game we went for was always of the small variety as big game hunting seasons were closed by then. Pheasants, ducks, geese, and sometimes rabbits would fill the game bags
The first Thanksgiving, in 1621, was one of game taken and provided by the hunters in the group, plus fruits and vegetables provided by the gatherers. There was no turkey, at least according to the history of that first feast. Now, if those folks could have gone to the grocery store and bought a couple of frozen birds for the event, even odds say they may have done just that. Nevertheless, the symbolism of Thanksgiving was a celebration of all that the New World provided. It was a place where individuals could go forth and provide for themselves and share in the takings to provide a feast. It’s now a rare and precious commodity in today’s world – one that has become
unique or even antiquated or simply unknown to many. Times change and the common denominators for the Thanksgiving Day celebration are football, turkey and a whole lot of guilty pleasures to gorge on for one glorious November Thursday. And there are a lot of families across the country that honor the day of giving thanks with a hunt before the festivities begin. For many that also include wild game taken before Thanksgiving – wild turkey, venison, duck, goose and pheasant roasting in the oven while the family takes in a morning hunt. The hunting tradition, with some exceptions, has been primarily fathers, uncles and granddads taking sons, nephews and grandsons out into the
Hunting Labs Cheyenne and Gunner overlook the scene on a 7-degree Thanksgiving Day on the Kenai Peninsula. In states like Alaska, a hunt is as big a tradition as football, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the family dinner. (STEVE MEYER)
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Snowshoe hares make for an easy yet productive hunt option around the holiday season. Hunting rabbits is a great way to bring families together. (STEVE MEYERS)
You can still hunt Sitka blacktails in late November, but the author prefers hunting for waterfowl or predators as part of his holiday festivities. (STEVE MEYER)
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field and enjoying the outdoors. Times are changing and not only for the better; personally, I believe that the changes will be critical factors in the future of our hunting heritage.
Not just the guys
Even in the chill of November, there is plenty of holiday upland bird hunting to explore in Alaska. (STEVE MEYER)
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Female hunters are embracing the hunting lifestyle as the largest growing segment of the hunting population. They are doing it in ways that the nonhunting public embraces. This isn’t always the case with their male counterparts. The primary reason females are taking to the hunting fields is harvesting healthy, sustainable food for their family. They also view it as an opportunity to share the clean air, the exercise and the relationship with nature that only hunting allows with their families. What better time to engage the entire family than the Thanksgiving holiday? Kids are out of school and most folks at least have the day off and in many cases a long and leisurely week-
end. The shorter daylight hours don’t demand the intensity of 4 a.m. wakeup calls and 16 hours of light to hunt. Small game is going to be the primary quarry on the menu and does not require much in the way of travel to get to a choice hunting spot. Practically anywhere in rural Alaska houses rabbits, grouse or ptarmigan. On the other hand, a long holiday weekend can allow for a Sitka blacktail hunt or a serious waterfowl trip to some of the really productive areas throughout Alaska. Don’t discount angling. By late November, many of the lakes are frozen enough to allow ice fishing. Fish is certainly a mainstay of an Alaskan’s diet and offers the same opportunities to share the outdoors and the honest utilization of renewable food sources with the family.
For the youngsters Much is written about introducing kids to hunting, with one of the primary
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issues being the outing must be successful (something successfully shot) to keep the youngster’s interest. Even when hunting was a necessity for survival, and in the days when game was much more plentiful, there was still only a bit over 10 percent of the population that hunted. That number had been in fairly steady decline in recent years, though women are hunting more than they once did. That said, kids may or may not gravitate to hunting, but the absolute best shot a hunting family has at keeping the children interested into the future is getting them out there immediately. The salient point of early involvement is they still want to be with the family. It doesn’t really matter what the activity, they just want to go and be a part of it. This is one area where female hunting involvement will make a difference in the future. Alaskans like Becky Swanke of Tuff Kids Outdoors took her son, Caden, on his first moose hunt at age eight months! Heather Wilson, a biologist for
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the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service in Alaska, shot a moose with her 1½-year-old son, Coal, in the backpack she carried (see Alaska Sporting Journal, Issue 1, 2013). Most moms will go the extra mile to keep the children close and have a much better record of patience in everything that child-rearing involves, than fathers do. No slam on dads, it’s just the nature of things.
A day of fun What’s in store for Thanksgiving in our part of the world? Since the setters get more time in the field, the Labs will be hunting mallards and goldeneyes on the upper Kenai River. This area is tough to hunt during most of the season since so many anglers are working the rainbows there. By Thanksgiving weekend the crowd has thinned some, and finding a cove to tuck into and throw out a few decoys is feasible. We typically don’t hunt spruce grouse in November – by then we have enough for the freezer and they are settling in
with a diet of pine needles for the winter (When peeling the breast skin back on a late-November spruce grouse prepare to be assaulted with a scent reminiscent of a freshly cut Christmas tree. It’s edible with some doctoring, but not the best table fare). If there has been a decent snowfall the willow ptarmigan will be down lower in the willow and alder patches. Just be careful of avalanche danger; moderate temperatures and periods of rain in Southcentral Alaska can make the steep, upper reaches treacherous for the hunter. Rabbits are always a mainstay; just look for tracks, as where there are tracks there are rabbits.
Preserving a legacy Perhaps at no point in history have there been more threats to our hunting heritage. The importance of involving families and continually involving future generations of hunters cannot be overstressed in preserving our hunting traditions. Happy Thanksgiving. ASJ
NOVEMBER 2014
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Sitka blacktail deer don’t carry the same street credibility as moose, caribou and bear among Alaska hunters. But the author suggests they can produce the hunt of a lifetime. (PAUL D. ATKINS)
ALASKA’S BEST KEPT SECRET HUNTING UNDERRATED SITKA BLACKTAILS By Paul D. Atkins
O
nce we stepped off the skiff and climbed the steep mud bank we could see for miles. The brown sea grass led to barren tundra, which eventually turned into mountains covered with snow; it was breathtaking. We were here to take deer, but our attention turned quickly to the monster that was barreling down on us from a half-mile away. With each stride we could see the big muscles rolling underneath his brown hide and we began to wonder if he was going to stop.
Overlooked game Deer and Alaska are two words you don’t usually see in the same sentence. Alaska is better known for its gigantic moose, monster brown bears, sheep, goats and the nomadic caribou herds that roam throughout the land. Hunters come from all over the world to pursue these animals in one type of an adventure or another, but hunting deer is usually not one of them. Coming to Alaska to hunt Sitka blacktail is one of the most overlooked and underrated opportunities for hunters today. Compared with the high cost of tags and licenses and the sheer pain of filling out application after application for an animal that you may never draw a tag for can be
frustrating, a blacktail adventure is cheap and easy compared to most hunts in North America. Traveling to one of the islands to pursue these deer is worth the price of admission alone, and whether you like to use a rifle or chase them with a bow, it is about as much fun as you can have next to going to Africa for safari.
Lots of deer Blacktails are native to the wet coastal rainforest of Southeast Alaska, but have expanded to Kodiak and Afognak Islands, Yakutat and Prince William Sound. They are smaller in stature compared to their cousins to the south, and antler growth is similar to the Coues NOVEMBER 2014
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There are a lot of bears in deer country, so be careful. Ideally, hunters should be in pairs. (PAUL D. ATKINS)
deer found in the Desert Southwest. The Boone & Crockett club’s minimum entry for a Sitka blacktail is 100 inches, and to harvest a deer of this caliber is
ous winter was mild, traditionally deer numbers will be significant; in a typical day you might see upwards of 75 to 100 deer. During the late season, which usually runs November and December, deer will tend to concentrate at the lower elevations due to the deep snow. The deer will herd up and the sheer numbers are sometimes staggering. On a trip to the south end of Kodiak, for instance, I’ve actually seen as many as 200 deer a day; at least half of those were bucks, a pretty phenomenal scene to say the least. You literally couldn’t look through your binoculars and not see a deer. It’s similar to Africa in terms of numbers and a hunter’s paradise given the fact that you can pretty much pick and choose the buck you want to hunt. quite a feat. Blacktails are numerous throughout their range but are greatly influenced by the severity of winter. If the previ-
Blacktail hunt options Deer hunting techniques will differ greatly depending on where you decide to go. In a few units where there are towns and
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roads you can actually drive to an area and begin hunting, similar to chasing mule deer whitetails in the Lower 48. But when it comes to pursuing blacktails on Kodiak or one of the other island areas, you basically have two options. First is to book a hunt with an outfitter. These hunts are usually unguided and the outfitter is more of a transporter who provides access to an area. They usually run for seven days and are conducted from a large boat, usually a fishing vessel with sleeping quarters, a shower and a few hot meals. Hunters pretty much eat and sleep on the boat and each morning load onto a skiff to go ashore and hunt a specific area. It’s not uncommon to see deer feeding on kelp along the shore, sharing that stretch with some pretty big brown bears. Hunters are usually given a radio and told what time to meet the skiff that evening, usually in the late afternoon. This technique is very successful, assuming bad weather doesn’t move in. A few years ago a couple of us were
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dropped off on a perfect morning, only to have a blinding snowstorm move in that afternoon and just about wipe us out. Weather is always a consideration, so be prepared for it. This option is more expensive, with costs running $3,000 to $3,500 depending on the outfit. A second way is to book a ride, either by boat or plane, and camp in the area you plan to hunt. These hunts are a lot less expensive outside of transportation costs. This option is great for the do-it-yourselfer, but requires the hunter to have a full amount of gear to get it done. Besides your own equipment, you need to bring a tent, food and a good set of nerves. Bears are notorious in deer country and whatever rumors you’ve heard are quite true. Bears are smart and react to rifle shots, and, in my experience, to humans in general. Even as a bowhunter, I’ve had bears wander over to see what I was strapping to my pack, taking me totally by surprise. If you do plan a DIY trip, make sure you’re
prepared and bring plenty of bear protection. Having a rifle is a given, but pepper spray, a bear fence and hunting with a friend is a great idea. Never ever hunt alone in brown bear country.
Seasons Depending on the area Alaska’s deer season and harvest limits vary. Early season usually starts August 1 and the late season runs until the end of December. Harvest limits vary too. In some areas Garrett Ham from Arizona and a big blacktail buck, which was spotted on the side of a small rise. Ham was able to take him at 275 yards with a 300 Win Mag. (PAUL D. ATKINS)
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A wild adventure
If you do plan to hunt Alaska’s Sitka deer you need to make sure you’re in decent shape. Most late-season hunts begin in the morning usually around 8 a.m., and with the short days, end somewhere around 4 p.m. (PAUL D. ATKINS)
close to towns the limit is one deer and can be sex specific. In more rural areas like Kodiak the harvest limit is quite liberal, especially during the late season where a hunter can take three deer total. If you’re planning a deer hunt to Alaska, be sure to check the regulations to find what works for you.
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The 10-foot brown bear kept coming towards us with no intention of stopping. At this point we became officially quite concerned. But at 30 yards he decided that was far enough and just stood there looking at us. Ten-foot brown bears are big – at 30 yards they look even bigger. Eventually he decided we were not that important and wandered off. We continued glassing the valley and mountainsides with hopes of finding that monster of monsters. Bucks seemed to materialize from the ground; at one point we couldn’t decide which to choose from. After playing rock, paper, scissors, we decided to continue up the mountain, and it was a good thing that we did. There, bedded down in a small bowl, were two exceptional bucks. They were both in velvet and seemingly unaware of our presence, so we stalked as close as we thought possible. My good friend Garrett was up, so he had first choice and first shot. As the .300 Win Magnum rang off, I saw the buck’s
head drop and not move. The second buck ran, but stopped a few yards, which was a bad move on his part. My Trijicon found him and the Sako 7mm pounded into my shoulder. The buck ran, but stumbled and fell not far from where Garrett’s buck lay. I’ve been to Kodiak several times to pursue blacktails and it has been by far among the best hunts I have ever been on. Everything – from the town of Kodiak itself, to the people, to the hunt and all the animals on the island – is incredible. But wherever you decide to hunt blacktails in Alaska, and whatever option you choose, it will be an adventure of a lifetime. Being able to see some incredible country that Alaska has to offer is worth the trip. Just watch out for the bears! ASJ Editor’s note: The author is an outdoor writer and a contributing writer for Alaska Sporting Journal. He has written hundreds of articles on hunting big game throughout North America and Africa. Paul lives in Kotzebue, Alaska.
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NO SYMPATHY ODDS AND ENDS TO CHEW ON BY STEVE MEYER
I
received an email from some outdoor site that headlined the message with “Coyote killed at
1,800 yards.” This was promoting the virtues of the “smart” rifle. This business of shooting animals at extreme ranges has been around for a while. There are no doubts a very small number of people who are absolutely dedicated to longrange shooting that can perhaps make such shots on at least a somewhat consistent basis in places where they know the terrain and the general conditions. Ballistics, rangefinders, scopes and cartridges have come a long way in the past 20 years. But seriously, any hunter who has spent any time attempting shooting beyond even 500 yards knows it is a crap shoot under field conditions. Your rifle-mounted computer might give all the pertinent data, but it cannot account for the updrafts, downdrafts, changes in wind direction and velocity, and it cannot predict when an animal may take a step and change the impact from broadside chest to broadside gut. Consider a 200-grain boat-tail .30-caliber bullet leaving the muzzle at 3,200 feet per second with a 5 mph crosswind will drift approximately 5½ inches at 500 yards, 25 inches at 1,000 yards and 105 inches at 1,800 yards. A 10 mph wind results in drift off target 12 inches at 500 yards, 57 inches at 1,000 and 237 inches at 1,800. On a known range with wind flags set every 100 yards, it can be done, but in the field while engaged in hunting?
Brown bagging it For 43 years I’ve avoided eating brown bear meat. It just wasn’t done, and the fall bears I had anything to do
with were so rank they didn’t exactly encourage an attempt to do so. Changes in regulation for bear baiting now allows hunters to take a brown bear incidental to black bear baiting, provided the meat was salvaged. Some hunters won’t take one because of that rule, but numerous hunters have; a friend who did offered me some to try. I thought, what the heck, worst it can be is awful. But it isn’t. The first bear I tried was a backstrap steak, which started out about an inch thick and really puffed up on the grill. I cooked it just shy of well done and it tasted very much like some black bear I’ve had, an intriguing flavor reminiscent of pork. But it was awfully chewy. It had a very different texture that couldn’t be described as tough, but it took a lot of chewing to get it down. Next, I put a barbecue-marinated rump roast in the pressure cooker for an hour, and then cooked it slow over the grill. It didn’t exactly melt in your mouth, but it was much easier to chew with a nice, mild flavor. While I would not want it nightly, it is indeed edible. It’s always bothered me that we didn’t utilize brown bear meat. As more people try it, it will become standard at least for spring bears and mountain bears that haven’t been feasting on fish.
Man’s best friend? Shadow Oak Bo, an English setter, won the 2014 National Field Trail Championship at the Ames Plantation in western Tennessee, a repeat of the dog’s 2013 win. Being a setter guy I was excited; English pointers have dominated the event for years, so it’s nice to see the longhairs returning to glory. But then I read a bit about this magnificent setter and saw he is co-owned by two guys, with someone else who handles him for the trial.
So I thought, what the hell does this have to do with hunting dogs? How do you “co-own” a family member? What would provoke someone who has a magnificent hunting dog to have someone else “handle” it? I thought that beautiful hunter goes home not to a bed by the fireplace at his hunting partner’s feet, rather to a wire cage or crate. Hunting dogs are family; they eat with you, sleep with you, ride in the cab of the truck with you, and they’ll wear out themselves working as our hunting partners. I suppose those who don’t treat them that way have the legal right if the dog isn’t abused. But I’ll exercise my right to say those folks are a bit creepy.
On the rise In recent years there has been a downtrend in hunting participation across the country. It’s enough of a sample size that it’s concerning and prompted numerous introductory hunting programs for youth and women. So with that, why is it that it seems like the places we have gone for years and enjoyed a fair amount of privacy have become inundated with hunters? Reason one is there has been an increase in hunters in Alaska, a stat bucking the national trend. In 2009 there were 96,979 licenses sold in Alaska; in 2012 the number rose to 106,653. Add to that the number of kids 16 and under who don’t have to buy a license, and it’s probably fair to say we have at least 10,000 more hunters now than we did a short time ago. Alaska is so large one would think absorbing 10,000 hunters into the landscape would hardly be noticeable. However, there is still limited access, and areas that are more accessible are going to draw more hunters. Alaskans are very big on hunting and fishing from the field to the table, and it seems unlikely we have any concerns of hunter shortage anytime soon. Remember, the trigger finger lives on the receiver and only visits the trigger. Good hunting! ASJ NOVEMBER 2014
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From
FIELD FIRE
Winter ptarmigan flocks can be big, numbering into the hundreds. Flocks this size are fun to hunt, but don’t overlook smaller flocks holding in areas wherever food is found this time of year. (SCOTT
To
HAUGEN)
thor lived 1990s, the au ktuvuk Pass, e th in k ac B hool in Ana hunting is and taught sc ptarmigan ’s pleased re he w a place ts. Here, he taken ge it as as good ptarmigan ow ill w with these village. (SCOTT HAUGEN) north of the
TIME FOR WILLOWS BY SCOTT HAUGEN
S
nowshoes strapped on, each step became more deliberate the closer I got to the flock of feeding willow ptarmigan. I’d spotted them from a couple hundred yards away, and used the sparse willows as cover to stalk within range. Honestly, I was surprised the birds hadn’t flushed by now. Closing the gap to 30 yards, I got the shotgun ready and inched closer. At about 20 yards out, the birds couldn’t stand it anymore and took to the air. I dropped two snow-white birds and missed a third, but what caught me by total surprise was the number of birds that took flight.
Initially, I figured there were two, maybe three dozen ptarmigan in the flock. But when I shot, the willows erupted. Close to 300 ptarmigan had already formed in their winter flock, and the best part was, the end of the flock I’d shot at settled at the opposite end of the same flock, which didn’t even take flight at the shot. I collected eight more birds from that flock before it was over. That hunt took place on the northern slopes of the Brooks Range, near my then home at Anaktuvuk Pass. Even crazier was the fact that just about every little valley held flocks of ptarmigan that size during this time of year. Across Alaska, now is a good time to get after ptarmigan, be they willow, rock or whitetail. Of course, the willow ptar-
migan, the state bird, is the most prevalent and far-ranging of the three subspecies. Willows also gather in the biggest flocks. As they gather in large winter flocks over the coming months, there’s fun shooting to be had. Willow buds, leaves and residual berries are a common food source this time of year, as is just about anything else a ptarmigan comes across in its respective range. Putting in the time to figure out what foods are available in the areas you’ll be hunting can help save a great deal of time and energy. Traveling on snowmachine is a common way to cover ground and get to the hunting grounds. Once birds are spotted, make a plan. If snows are still soft, snowshoes are a must; they help no matter NOVEMBER 2014
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what type of snow you’re hunting in. As snow on the ground hardens, some people slip on cross-country skis and find birds that way. When hunting open country, try reaching any high points and glassing from there. If groves of willows can be located in the draws below, watch for ptarmigan feeding in them. This can be quite comical, really. The first time I witnessed a flock of ptarmigan plucking willows, it took me a few minutes to figure out what was happening. A bird jumped up, then vanished, only a willow limb left moving. Again, a white bird jumped up – easy to see against the curtain of gray willows – and landed back in the snow, invisible to my eyes at the distance from where I watched. The only thing left moving was a willow branch. Then two birds continued hopping up and plucking buds, followed by more birds doing the same. It was like watching popcorn pop, and then it dawned on me what was happening. This is a common way for ptarmigan to feed this time
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Willow thickets are prime feeding sites for ptarmigan throughout the winter. (SCOTT HAUGEN)
of year. A lightweight 20 gauge is ample gun and shoots payloads of No. 6’s. When traversing through the snow, you want to go as light as possible. A lightweight binocular is also a good idea and will save a great deal of hiking time and leg burn. Today’s high-tech, layered clothing is also a wise choice to keep from getting saturated in sweat. In some of the thicker ptarmigan habitats amid their southern range, the going can be very tough, as physically
challenging as some big game hunts. If headed to such areas, be in shape and know your limits. Take enough food and water to last the day, even if you don’t plan on being gone that long. Of course, take some basic survival gear and let others know where you’ll be and when you plan on returning. Even though ptarmigan hunting in Alaska can be simple, it can also be strenuous. Monitor the weather, go in fully prepared and you’ll come away appreciating what a joy it is to hunt these grand birds in The Last Frontier. ASJ Editor’s note: Personally signed copies of Scott Haugen’s thrilling book, Hunting The Alaskan High Arctic, can be ordered by sending a check for $35 (free S&H) to Haugen Enterprises, P.O. Box Walterville, OR 97489, or order at scotthaugen.com. Scott Haugen is the host of Trijicon’s The Hunt, on the Sportsman Channel. Watch for him on Alaska Outdoors TV on the Outdoor Channel, starting in 2015.
NOVEMBER 2014
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THAI FISH STICKS From Maxine’s Fireweed Bistro 10-ounce rockfish cut into 1-ounce portions 2 cups flour 1 tablespoon salt and 1 teaspoon pepper 5 eggs 2 cups Panko bread crumbs peanut oil 1 yellow onion, finely chopped 5 each lemon grass (pounded and chopped) 2 ounces galangal root 3 tbl green curry paste 5 12-ounce can coconut milk 20 kaffir lime leaves ¾ cup fish sauce ¼ cup lime juice
2 fresh mangos chopped ½ cup lemon juice 2 hot chilis with seeds 1 cup sugar 1 cup mung bean sprouts ¼ cup thai basil ¼ cup mint ¼ cup cilantro 5 cups cooked jasmine rice
Cut fish into 1-ounce strips. Mix flour, salt and pepper in bowl, beat five eggs. Dredge fish in flour, egg wash and then panko. Set aside. In sauce pan heat three tablespoons peanut oil; sweat onions, add lemon grass, galangal root and curry paste; stir for about four minutes. Add coconut milk and kaffir lime leaves; bring to boil then reduce heat to low and stir occasionally for two hours. Strain and add fish sauce and lime juice. (Water can be added at this time to get desired consistency.) In sauce pan mix chopped mangos, lemon juice, chilies and sugar cook on medium heat for about 15 minutes. Toss sprouts, basil, mint and cilantro in small bowl. Pan fry fish in peanut oil for two minutes on each side, or until cooked through. Place on paper towel to absorb excess oil. Serve in large bowl; layer curry sauce, jasmine rice and fish. Place sprout mix on side and top fish with mango chutney and enjoy.
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MAKING PTARMIGAN TASTY BY TIFFANY HAUGEN
D
uring the years Scott and I lived a semi-subsistence lifestyle on the North Slope, ptarmigan made up a large part of our diet. Many people told us how they didn’t really like eating ptarmigan, but I had no choice in not only making it edible, but tasty. With all the ptarmigan we ate from fall through winter and into spring, I worked to make them taste as enjoyable as possible, and it worked. The first time we had this recipe it was made with guinea fowl from Africa. Thinking it would be great with ptarmigan, we tried it out as soon as we returned home from our safari. The dish didn’t disappoint as the ptarmigan slow-cooked to tenderness while the sauce kept the meat moist and flavorful. This recipe also adapts for crock pot cooking. Simply brown meat in olive oil and then add everything to a slow cooker. Cook two to three hours on high or five to seven hours on low. 2 pounds ptarmigan (or any upland bird), dressed and cut in pieces ¼ cup olive oil 2 cups tomatoes, chopped 2 cups mushrooms, sliced 1 cup onion, finely chopped 2 cloves garlic, minced ½ cup red wine 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning 1 teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon black pepper
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Heat oil in a large skillet, brown meat on medium heat and place into an ovenproof casserole dish. Add mushrooms, onion and garlic to the skillet and sauté two to three minutes. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Pour everything from the skillet over the browned game birds, scraping all of the bits from the skillet. Bake in a preheated, 325-degree oven for 45 minutes or until meat thermometer reaches 150 to 160 degrees. Serve over polenta, rice or noodles. Editor’s note: For signed copies of Scott & Tiffany Haugen’s popular cookbook, Cooking Game Birds, send a check for
$20 (free S&H) to Haugen Enterprises, P.O. Box 275, Walterville, OR 97489, or order online at scotthaugen.com.
NOVEMBER 2014
10/23/14 10:13 AM
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TAKING GOOD CARE OF HUNTING BOOTS By Dave Workman
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nother hunting season is well underway in the West and conditions have taken a turn for the sloppy. It’s in that kind of environment where hunting boots will either make or break a hunt. Bad boots suck. I had a pair go wrong on a hunt in Southeast Alaska many years ago, and it will never happen again. About six years ago, I explained how the right treatment will keep your valuable leather hunting boots going year after year. At the time, my hunting boots were more than 20 years old. That was the year I finally shelled out for a replacement pair. And I’ve been using those boots hard every hunting season for deer on the Snake River Breaks, and elk hunts in the Cascades. They have seen snow, a lot of mud, dust, rain, a lot more mud, gravel, sagebrush and stuff one steps in now and then, and they are still as good as new despite a worn appearance. They also stay nice and dry when conditions would suggest otherwise, and I anticipate they will remain good for the trail for many years.
ANY NEW LEATHER boots should be treated, regardless of whether the label says they’re waterproof. I have treated my heavy hunting boots with Huberd’s Shoe Grease, Mink Oil, neatsfoot oil and/or Sno Seal over the years, typically alternating the treatments to keep the leather supple. Back when I was in junior high school, one of my teachers – as devoted a deer hunter as I ever knew – told me about a process he used for breaking in a new pair of leather hunting boots. He would soak them inside and out in warm oil the night before a hunt. He would put them on in the morning
You’re not exactly trying to get your boots pearly bright, but using an old toothbrush when you apply boot grease, mink oil, etc., allows you to work the compound into the leather. The author also advises paying close attention to the welt. (DAVE WORKMAN)
after they’ve been near a warm stove and wear them until noon. By then they would have formed to his feet. He would then take off his socks, which by then would be ruined by the oil residue, and toss them in the fire. He’d put on a clean pair of socks and his boots would be cured. My own experience has also involved keeping boots warm and treating them with the melted substance I chose for that particular occasion. I bought my current pair of boots just in time for the elk season opener. Right out of the box, I warmed them up slowly near the campfire while a tin of Huberd’s warmed up nearby. With a cloth and old toothbrush, I got that shoe grease into every seam on those boots, with special attention to the welt and anywhere there is stitching. Also, pay attention to the boot tongue. This may or may not have some sort of insulation on the inner surface, but this section deserves extra care because it is often where trail crud accumulates. In some boots, the tongue consists of thinner leather, and if something is going to go haywire
Workman’s four-year-old Cabela’s hunting boots may look trail worn, but because he treats the leather annually with a good oil or grease, they should last for many years. (DAVE WORKMAN)
with a boot, it’s right there. Every year since, there’s been a late-summer treatment, with the boots sitting outside in the sun alongside a can or tub of whatever I use to treat the leather. The warmed leather will soak it up.
IF YOU WANT to get extra fancy, pick up a tin of shoe wax the same color as your boots, either black or brown. Allow it to warm up too, and then apply NOVEMBER 2014
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it liberally to your boots. There are two good ones for this, Kiwi and Lincoln. Rub this in with a soft cloth and don’t expect to get a shine out of it, but it will restore the color rather well. Leave the boots in the sun to keep warm and then add the mink oil or shoe grease, or some neatsfoot. It’s important to check the interior of your boots because natural foot perspiration can cause problems with leather. If your boots are damp from perspiration, let them dry slowly. I’ve often used a Peet shoe dryer to accomplish this, and the results have been satisfactory. Here’s another thing you should do: Replace the laces occasionally. Boot laces don’t last forever, and if they get all gunked up with grease or something you run into out in the field, they’ll hold dirt and grit. That can cause the laces to deteriorate. You can wash those laces in mild soap and warm water, but eventually, they’ll have to be replaced. ASJ
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NEW .357 MAGNUM LOAD
Fans of the .357 Magnum (I own more than one!) should warm up to a new load from Liberty Ammunition that is part of their Civil Defense family. It’s definitely for personal protection, with a 50-grain copper monolithic hollowpoint bullet that fragments. There’s no lead in this pill, and here’s the payoff: That projectile literally warps out of the barrel at a reported 2,100 feet per second. That’s not simply impressive, it’s awesome. I’ve fired some sizzling .357 Magnum loads over the years, always with light bullets, but this round’s re- Liberty Ammunition’s new .357 Magnum load. ported velocity is in a realm of its own. The .357 Magnum is a remarkably versatile cartridge, and it can be used for self-defense, midsized game up to deer with the right load, predator control and target shooting. Whether used in a very stout single-action such as the Ruger Blackhawk, or a double-action from Smith & Wesson, Taurus, Ruger or any of the other handgun makers, the .357 Magnum will get the job done. I’ve known people who shot black bears, mountain lions, deer, coyotes and other game effectively with a .357 Magnum. I happened across an unopened box of old Nosler 158-grainers several months ago and broke out an old Nosler manual because they’re not offering that bullet weight these days. The loads I cooked up work really well out of my vintage 2½-inch barreled Model 19 S&W, and that’s the handload I’ll be carrying on the trail from now on. But for, ahem, “social work,” one could hardly find a more devastating fight stopper in that caliber than this new offering from Liberty, if it performs as advertised. –DW
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The authors moved to Alaska from California with little hunting experience. Hunting spruce grouse around their home in Seward was a good place to prepare them for big-game hunts like moose and bear. (BAESTEN RICHARD/ USFWS)
THE MATRIX MEETS RAMBO GROUSE A BLOCKBUSTER PRODUCTION FOR HUNTERS By Krystin McClure and Bixler McClure
A
few years ago we were hiking on a trail near Seward when we saw a little girl standing in the middle of a trail, grinning ear to ear. Her dad stood proudly behind her. She had just shot her first grouse (with some help from her dad) and was happily retrieving the bird while her dad reminded her of gun safety. She picked up the bird and showed it to us, beam-
ing with joy. We were happy for her and somewhat jealous simultaneously. In our late 20s, we were on our first hunt too.
Becoming Alaskan When it comes to hunting, everyone has to start somewhere. Most Alaskan kids start at a young age, but for transplants like us we weren’t so fortunate to go on hunting trips as kids. My husband, Bixler, and I originally hail from California, where the only “hunting” we
did was stalking for a free parking spot within reasonable walking distance to our alma mater, Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. When we moved up to Alaska in 2009, we immediately wanted to pick up hunting as a form of grocery shopping. The advice from one sourdough (a grizzled Alaskan prospector) to a pair of cheechakos (an Alaskan newbie): start small and try grouse. Grouse are small upland game birds that live throughout Alaska. There are three species, but the most common in our area is the spruce grouse, which inhabits the acres of spruce forests NOVEMBER 2014
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IF YOU GO
Grouse hunting is an activity that Alaskan residents, and nonresidents, can enjoy. Be sure to check the Alaska Department of Fish and Game website (adfg.alaska. org) small-game hunting regulations for limits and seasons, as they change for each game management unit. While you can shoot grouse on the wing (or ground) with a shotgun, we prefer a .22 rifle. Most of the time you will see grouse on the trail or sitting in a tree. Even when they flush, they won’t move far (usually from ground to a nearby spruce tree). Line up a good shot with iron sights or a scope and pick them out. - KM
around Seward. These small, chicken-like birds are ideal targets for the newly minted Alaskan or young hunter. Their defense mechanism against predators is to stand still after being flushed up
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into a spruce tree, making them excellent targets for those learning marksmanship. They stick close to gravel trails in the fall. And they dress out to the size of a Cornish game hen, but all dark meat. Delicious!
Grouse in the house The first guns we purchased in Alaska were his-and-hers Ruger 10-22s. I preferred the wood stock while Bixler stuck with synthetic. We went with .22s over shotguns to learn marksmanship that would later help us bag several biggame species in the future. I remember when Bixler shot his first grouse using iron sights on the Meridian Lake Trail at Mile 13 off the Seward Highway. Like that little girl we met a few weekends earlier, he was beaming with joy, except he was two decades older. I eventually got my first grouse on the way up to Lost Lake and experienced the same feeling. Soon we upgraded to scopes to focus on longer shots and spent the fall hitting the trails. Fast forward five years. Grouse hunt-
ing is one of our favorite pastimes as we transition from a busy summer of sailing and fishing to a relaxing fall watching the last of the summer tourists leave town. We’ve learned a few tricks hunting and have a handful of secret spots, but the thing we noticed above all is a strong correlation between the number of grouse we see and distance we travel on the trail. On day hikes we’ve never reached the daily limit of 10 grouse per person, or even 10 total. The only time we’ve ever come close to a limit is by hunting while backpacking and that involved over 20 miles of foot travel.
Finding birds The Johnson Pass Trail is a 23-mile, former 1890s mining-road-turnedmulti-use trail that spans between Turnagain Pass and Moose Pass, a small community about 25 miles north of Seward. When we started backpacking during the brief Southcentral fall, we picked Johnson Pass as our first desti-
NOVEMBER 2014
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The terrain where grouse congregate can be steep. (BIXLER MCCLURE)
nation due to gentle slopes on the trail and grouse potential. Our plan was to travel 10 miles in and 13 miles out, ending in Moose Pass. We packed the usual camping gear, fishing rods and a rifle for bears. We opted for my Ruger 1022 because I believe the wood stock
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offers better balance, though Bixler will say otherwise. A friend of ours dropped us off at the trailhead and we immediately saw a handful of grouse hunters returning to their cars. “No grouse,” they said. We figured they probably didn’t travel far
enough since grouse tend to be more skittish the closer a hunter is to an established trailhead. Sure enough, several miles into the hike a grouse standing in the trail rushed into a nearby spruce tree. Bixler and I debated as to whose turn it was to shoot this grouse. Throughout our hunting experiences, I have always given Bixler the first opportunity to hunt any new species or to start a season. It is a male thing and has something to do with both the primal instinct to provide meat and the “macho” aspect. When I shot a large moose in August 2014, I had to give up eight grouse to Bixler just so he could feel satisfied. Bixler had already shot a grouse prior to this trip, so it was my turn. I wrestled my heavy pack onto the front to reach into the gun scabbard for my .22, the only .22 we brought. My .22 has not lived an easy life, and as I pulled it out of the pack the perfectly aligned scope came off with it. Bixler’s jaw dropped. Oh no! We hadn’t shot
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ALASKAN TWIST ON COMFORT CLASSIC Alaskan chicken and waffles Ingredients Spruce grouse (brined), about one per person Sourdough sponge Frying oil Flour Eggs Baking soda Water Sugar Salt (regular) Panko Olive oil Bacon Chicken stock Maple syrup (or Alaskan birch syrup if you can find it) Garlic salt and pepper
Instructions The night before you decide to have Alaskan chicken and waffles, you must do the following: 1) Brine the grouse. 2) Set the sourdough sponge. For brining, simply mix pickling salt and water and immerse the grouse in the solution. This will draw some of the blood and stronger flavors out of the meat and create a tenderer and flavorful finished product. We’ve also tried soaking in milk, but the brine solution produces the best results. Place in fridge overnight. For the sourdough sponge, simply dump your sourdough starter into a mixture of equal parts warm water and flour. The amount of flour and water depends on the amount of waffles you eventually want to make. Cover the mixture with plastic wrap and put it in a warm place (the top of the fridge is a good spot) and allow the sourdough to grow.
Fried grouse This follows our classic breading recipe we borrowed from a culinary text book. You can use this for anything: fish, veggies, etc. Remove grouse from brine solution and wash thoroughly. Chop into quarters and season assertively with garlic 82 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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salt and pepper. Set aside. Using a deep fryer or large pot, begin heating up enough frying oil to immerse grouse. The oil will take some time to heat up if you aren’t using a deep fryer like a Fry Daddy, so start this process early. While waiting for the oil to heat, set up a classic breading station: flour, egg wash (eggs plus a dash of warm water). First dip grouse in flour, then in egg wash. Coat completely in Panko. You can do all the grouse at once and set aside or in batches, depending on the size of your deep fryer. Fry grouse until golden brown. We recommend you do like pieces together – fry all the legs in one batch and breasts in another. This will avoid overcooking certain parts of the bird. When done, place in a tray in the oven on warm.
Sourdough waffles Everyone’s grandmother has a different sourdough recipe. This one is adapted from a University of Alaska Fairbanks extension pamphlet from 1985 that Bixler’s grandmother gave us. Our friend who joined us for dinner prepared the waffles with a slightly different recipe, but we’ve had excellent results with this waffle recipe: Before adding any of the ingredients, remove about 1 cup sourdough from the bowl, otherwise, you will con-
sume your starter! For a sponge made with two cups of water and twocups of flour, add the following: three tablespoons olive oil, one or two eggs, one teaspoon baking soda, one tablespoon water, one teaspoon salt, and one tablespoon sugar. Mix well. Depending on the measurements for your sponge, this recipe scales up and down nicely. Follow the instructions on your waffle iron.
Bacon pan gravy Our friend who joined us is also a student at the AVTEC Culinary Institute (avtec.edu/Culinary.htm) right here in Seward. She introduced us to this simple pan gravy recipe that made the meal: Render a few pieces of bacon fat over medium low heat. Lower heat will prevent the bacon from crisping up too soon and allow the fat to render out of the meat. Once enough fat has rendered, remove bacon and set aside. Using a whisk, add flour to fat until the mixture is pasty, but not clumpy, like a roux. Add chicken stock to the roux until gravy is as thick or thin as desired. Cut up bacon and mix back into gravy.
The Finished Product Combine chicken and waffles with pan gravy and syrup. Serve with a fine bourbon. Eat. Enjoy. Repeat. -KM
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iron sights in years! I aimed, I shot, and I missed. The grouse didn’t move as the bullet skimmed by its neck like Neo in The Matrix. I shot again, trying to get a feel for a scopeless gun. Same issue. Bixler looked like he was about to explode, so I handed the gun off to him and he shot the grouse. We spent the remaining mileage of the hike arguing about what went wrong with the packing of the gun. A single grouse weighs virtually nothing compared to our heavy packs, so we continued to fill up the empty spaces with trout from Johnson Lake. We were anticipating that the 13-mile hike out would be easy since our packs were slightly lighter from consuming all the food and beverages we hauled in. This was before we discovered a grouse hunter’s paradise. Just a few miles into our 13-mile day, we rounded a corner to find a large male grouse with beautiful red feathers above its eyes strutting in front of three females. The four grouse flew into four
Bixler McClure displays his first grouse from a 13-mile hike on the Meridian Lake Trail, which is adjacent to the Seward Highway. (KRYSTIN MCCLURE)
separate trees, all within shooting distance. Bixler insisted that he try first; he grabbed my .22 and aimed at the first grouse. He shot it perfectly and
I dropped my pack to retrieve it. He found the other three and missed all of them. Each grouse flew deeper into the woods and neither one of us was
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able to follow. “I hate using iron sights,” said Bixler, as he handed me back his gun. “Me too,” I agreed. “But it is good practice.” Good practice or not, iron sights was not the way to go on this trail. As we rounded another corner we ran into the same situation. Bixler and I switched roles as shooter and spotter. I managed two grouse out of the four. The remaining two weren’t as skittish as the others, but seemed to dodge each bullet. We called these Rambo grouse. Bixler picked up the next two grouse and put them in the trash bag. With four in the bag, we realized that neither one of us could fit it into our already heavy packs. I strapped the birds to Bixler’s pack and carried the gun in my hand. The birds bounced around annoyingly and I tried everything to strap them down. We periodically stopped to readjust and rest. The 13 miles and the hunt were starting to take a toll on our bodies.
Quest for a perfect 10 As we continued onward, we found a straight stretch of trail that had three pairs of grouse, all male-female pairs, at an all-grouse social. Bixler shot one and I shot its mate. We were becoming increasingly confident about using just iron sights on the gun. Someday we wanted to achieve a 10-grouse day and something about this trail, the time of year, and the amount of frost was causing all the grouse to congregate in this one 13-mile section. We eagerly continued the hunt, moving our heavy packs and the irritating bag of grouse down the trail to pursue each pair. The two remaining pairs turned out to be Rambo grouse. No amount of .22 ammo would put those birds down. Finally, we landed a couple shots and dropped them. We moved onward and started feeling increasingly sore. The bag of grouse was larger and more awkward to carry. We switched off carrying the grouse and gun. The closer we got to the trailhead,
the more Rambo grouse we encountered. We must have seen close to two daily limits on that entire section of trail and all we had were six to show for it. Our arms and backs were aching when we finally reached our car. We loaded up our packs and our grouse and started the drive home. Initially, there was that feeling of slight failure because of the gun scope issue and the integrity of these small birds. But as we traveled closer to Seward we remembered the fun we had pursuing those little birds in the backwoods of Alaska. We related that memory back to our first hunt and how much we enjoyed that very first pursuit. By the time we unloaded our car and set the six grouse out to butcher, we were grinning ear to ear like that little girl we met all those years ago. ASJ Editor’s note: For more of Krystin and Bixler McClure’s adventures, check out their website, alaskagraphy.com.
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FOR THE TROOPS WOUNDED WARRIORS CATCH PLENTY OF KANEKTOK FISH
Members of the Alaska Army National Guardsmen visited some Wounded Warriors and active-duty troops enjoying epic fishing on the Kanektok River on the southwestern coast of Alaska. (TOM REALE)
By Tom Reale
W
hen someone asks you if you want to go on an eight-day fishing trip down a remote river in Alaska, helping to guide a group from the Wounded Warriors Project, what is the range of pos-
sible answers? For me, they went from “Yes,” all the way to “Hell, yes.” This was in spite of the fact that my river guiding experience was, shall we say, limited. And by limited, I mean nonexistent. But when Steve Schaber, one of my wife’s colleagues at Providence Hospital in
Anchorage, asked if I’d be available for the trip, I made sure I had the time and took him up on the offer before he could reconsider. It turned out that Steve, along with his friend, Karl Powers, had been running these trips for a few years. Karl owns and operates Bethel-based Papa NOVEMBER 2014
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All but one of
stationed in float trip were e th on t en w icemen who
the serv
Bear Adventures (907-543-5275; papabearadventures.com), hunting and fishing outfitters and transporters. Several years ago, the two of them contacted the Wounded Warriors to ask if it would be possible for “Papa Bear” to take some of the GIs on a float trip out of Bethel. Steve and Karl initially had no sponsors and no financing, so they did the trip on their own. Karl supplied the rafts, the camping gear and the transportation out to the river in his floatplanes. Steve supplied food and more gear, and they made their first trip in 2011 with two boats and four passengers on the Kwethluk River out of Bethel. In 2012, they switched to the Kanek92 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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ALE)
Alaska. (TOM RE
tok, on the southwestern coast of the state. Since then, they’ve patched together sponsorships, donations and discounts to the point where they’re no longer funding the trips out of their own pockets. That’s not to say that it’s all smooth sailing. The logistical and supply challenges of finding guys suitable for the trip, arranging transportation and gear, and getting all of the material from Anchorage to Bethel are big. Then there’s flying the whole shebang into a remote lake for dropoff, making it downstream without catastrophe, and, finally, getting it all back safely. After Steve contacted me, we made plans to get to Bethel. Steve had already spent untold hours arranging
gear and food before I signed on; for me, this was a cakewalk. In addition to buying food, he also solicited help from his co-workers at Providence Hospital in Anchorage, where Steve is a pharmacist. People there gave cash donations, made and packaged meals and sent along cards and letters to the guys. “I’m surrounded by the kind of people who get the feeling that they’re making a difference with these guys. With big charities, we put the money in an envelope and never really see the effect,” Steve said. “With this project, people get to see the pictures of the trip, hear the feedback and know that they put a meal on the table for the guys or bought some fishing tack-
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An Alaska Air National Guardsman hands some tasty treats to vet Pat heroes. (TOM REALE) Upchurch, part of a surprise delivery to
le; they can kind of feel like they’re out there with us.” And as Steve was making final plans, the inevitable monkey wrench was thrown into the mix. Just days before leaving, one of his prospective guides wound up in the hospital and had to bow out. In a mad scramble, Steve called the Alaska Flyfishers and asked if they knew of anyone who would be both qualified and available as a late fill-in. Fortunately, someone there recommended Mike Morelli, who turned out to be perfect for the job. Mike is an accomplished fly fisher and rafter and a volunteer for Project Healing Waters, an outfit that offers services such as flyfishing outings to injured and disabled service members and vets. He is also 94 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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a retired Air Force first sergeant; Steve couldn’t have ordered a more suitable prospect from a catalog.
ON JULY 21, we all flew into Bethel for the unavoidable last-minute scramble to get items left behind and to get gear sorted out. For example, a couple of the guys had gone to a sporting goods shop and bought stocking-foot waders. However, nobody thought to tell these guys that they’d also need wading boots. Yikes. Karl had some stuff available, to avoid catastrophe. Our cast of characters included four guys still on active duty (three Army, one Navy), and two guys who were out – one Army, one Air Force. One had flown up from Montana; the rest were either living or stationed in
some hungry
Alaska. It would prove to be an interesting collection of citizens. As far as the levels of fishing experience, it ranged from moderate all the way down to nearly nonexistent. Flyfishing-wise, one of the guys had spent a short trip at a remote lodge in Alaska and received some instruction there, but that was about it. On the 22, we were due to fly everyone in by shuttling groups of guys and gear in Karl’s two Beavers and a Super Cub, all on floats. The weather looked iffy, to say the least, and remote lakes in the Y-K Delta don’t exactly have control towers and weather stations. Figuring out flights involves talking to other pilots who have been in the area and keeping a weather eye out. Karl’s brother Steve flew me in on
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Nathan Henderson, whose brother, Wayne, was also on the trip, was one of many anglers landing some excellent Kanektok fish. (TOM REALE)
the first trip in the Cub. We unpacked the plane and Steve showed me how to set up the tent. He left me with a survival kit and a satellite phone – in case nobody else got in – and took his leave. After playing Robinson Crusoe for about an hour, I heard approaching airplanes and waited for them on the beach. Two of the Papa Bear Beavers landed and unloaded five guys and their gear. We got the gear squared away, set up the tents and waited for the last of our crew to make it in. Alas, it was not to be. The weather refused to cooperate, and we gave up on the last three guests as evening deepened. The next day one of the guys was complaining about the rocky beach and how his Thermarest pad was terrible. I looked at the beach, and having 96 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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spent a lot of nights on some iffy terrain, I was surprised that he’d been uncomfortable – the rocks just didn’t look that bad to me. “Did you have the pad all the way inflated?” His blank stare told me all I needed to know. “The pads we had in Iraq, you just threw them on the ground and that was it. I had no idea you had to blow these things up,” he said. A short instruction session followed. After breakfast we decided we might as well fish while we waited – fortunately the tackle wasn’t on the plane in Bethel. We rigged fly rods and light spinning rigs and headed down to the river. We quickly started to catch fish. Small Dolly Varden and grayling were the
order of the day, and the guys got into the mood quickly. Nathan, who’d had some fly-fishing experience, was helping his brother, Wayne, learn the nuances of fly fishing. Pat Upchurch, Thermarest boy, started out using the spinning rods before switching to fly rods. Never have you seen such a quick and immediate convert from flinging hardware to presenting flies and beads. The fish were very cooperative, and, after landing a few Dollies, he was literally hooked. There’s nothing like lots of quick positive reinforcement for converting hardware flingers into fly casters. As the day progressed, we kept an eye on the sky and our ears alert for airplane sounds – nothing. So we fished, got the guys familiar with the tackle and had a very relaxing day.
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When dinner approach and no airplane around, Steve cobbled a meal together out of our supplies (one of the coolers was still in Bethel); we ate and awaited our missing comrades. By the time evening rolled around, there was still no Beaver.
THE NEXT DAY, at breakfast we found out that “Church” slept much better on a fully inflated pad. While the guys honed their fly skills, we waited. Around 4 p.m., eureka! Airplane sounds. The last three guys arrived along with the rest of our food; we quickly packed everything onto the three rafts and were underway in an hour. The extra days in camp played a bit of havoc with Steve’s trip plan, but nothing that couldn’t be overcome. He’d wisely planned on a lay day so we could spend one day not having to break and set up camp and pack and unpack rafts, but that idea went south. But, we persevered.
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The top of the river was, as the real river guides like to say, boney – lots of shallow water and searching for sometimes nonexistent channels, I ordered my guys out of the boat to push. Soldiers make really good pushers! In addition to the shallow water, it doesn’t help when the guide misses a turn and goes on an inadvertent jungle cruise or two. My guys were very good-natured about the detours and the extra work. Frankly, if everything goes smoothly, you’re left with no stories to tell and no insulting nicknames to give to the guide. From the beginning, sorting out the levels of fishing ability, backcountry and wilderness comfort and camping know-how was interesting. A few lessons were necessary in things like tent setup, kitchen hygiene and the inevitable lessons in how to efficiently and cleanly do what comes naturally to a bear in the woods. No “surface mines,” as one of the guys said. Quickly, personalities emerged. The
level of profanity and trash talk started out high and ascended rapidly as the trip progressed. To someone unfamiliar with military acronyms, large portions of some conversations seemed unintelligible. Rosetta Stone should come up with a military-to-English program for civilians.
THE RIVER ITSELF was a learning experience. After the first couple of days there was a lot less getting out and pushing, but the meanders produced some alternate routes that weren’t always easy to dope out. Occasionally, the boats would get separated for a bit, but the walkie-talkies and GPS units were invaluable. On a GPS with good maps, you can follow your progress down channels and figure out if you’re in the main stem or hopelessly turned around. As far as tackle, Steve supplied 7- and 10-weight fly rods, and medium- and heavy-action spinning rigs. We were anticipating using the light-
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Patrick Upchurch was among the military servicemen who were treated to a fantastic eight-day fishing trip. (TOM REALE)
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er stuff for rainbows, grayling and Dollies, and the heavier a outfits for the salmon we ano ticipated running into as we t drifted downriver. d The thinking was that, for the less experienced guys, t the spinning rods would be t more forgiving, and if anyone m wanted to transition into fly w fishing, we’d have the gear f necessary. As it turned out, n there was a range of react tions from jumping right in to casting flies to gradual and/or intermittent use depending on circumstances, all the way to a couple of the guys just having no interest in making the leap. Getting guys to warm up to the whole flyfishing idea isn’t easy-making fishing harder isn’t an easy sell for some. For terminal tackle, we had floating line on the
7-weights and sinking line on the 10s. Leaders were mostly 15-pound Maxim fluorocarbon for the trout and 20-pound for salmon. Mike used 1X and 0X on his rod, the same sizes that he uses on the Kenai River. For the fly rigs, we had Wooly Buggers, leeches, egg-sucking leeches and some streamers, plus a variety of bead sizes and colors. By far the most productive were the beads. Steve had boxes of them, and once we got the right sizes and color dialed in, they were dynamite. It seemed like the size choice on the beads depended on where we were in the river. The bigger, 14mm eggs worked pretty well, for me at least, in the upper river, and as we got farther down, the 8mm and 10mm sizes performed better. The best color was a pale pink, but anyone fishing a remote spot would be well-advised to bring a variety of sizes and colors – this is not a place where you want to pinch pennies. Tackle shops are in very short
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supply out there. Streamer and leech patterns worked well too, especially on rainbows, but after a while, most of us just quit experimenting and stuck with the beads. We pinned the beads a couple of inches above size 8 or 10 barbless hooks. Strike indicators worked well to the point where, at times, the fish were hitting them at least as well as they were hitting the beads. And all of the fishing was catch-and-release style, except for some salmon on the lower river. For the spinning rods, we used a variety of sizes and types of Mepps spinners – the Flying C was outstanding – especially once we started seeing silvers. Since we went in late July, we didn’t start seeing silvers until the last few days. We saw kings at times, but they were looking pretty ragged, as were the chums. An earlier float than late July would get you into kings in better condition,
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but going a bit later will have silvers more evenly distributed throughout the river. Humpies are an even-year phenomenon, which puts a lot more eggs in the river and gets a bit of a feeding frenzy going on, as will having more silvers in the upper reaches. This makes for even better rainbow fishing than what we had, which is kind of hard to imagine. But the Dollies were the hot ticket for us. Occasionally, we’d find spots where there were just scads of them hanging in clear pools, and we’d get into places where literally every cast would ensure a hit. Again, there’s nothing like loads of positive reinforcement to keep guys who are only occasional fishermen to jump into the action, especially when they’re just learning to handle a fly rod. The rainbow fishing was intermittent, and finding them was a real bonus for us. When just catching Dolly after Dolly got too boring, occasion-
ally we’d tie on a leech or a streamer and go prospecting for ‘bows. Some very nice ones were landed on flies; then again, we caught more than a few on beads, so there were no sure things. The other occasional break in the constant stream of Dolly Varden was when we’d hit a grayling. Most were average size, but one of the guys caught a very nice one in the upper river. Again, they were hitting beads, and I’m sure if you’d target them with dries you could have an absolute field day with the little sailfish. Speaking of grayling, Nate earned himself a bit of ribbing when he landed a whitefish in the upper river and told his brother he’d caught a “female grayling.” While lots of groups might have let something like that pass, with these guys, any possible excuse to embarrass or humiliate a companion doesn’t go unnoticed.
ON THE FIRST full day downriver, one
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oks a fish Wayne Henderson ho erseeing ov r be ha Sc ve Ste th wi at turned wh g rin du n tio ac the rience out to be a great expe r and tho au the , for the soldiers M REALE) the fishing guides. (TO
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o the guys caught the first fish of his of life. This is a guy who has done several l combat tours, been fishing a few times c when he was younger, but this really w was his first. “Thomas, you’re way too w country to have never caught a fish bec fore,” Nate joked. f On the second day out, our guys were in for a surprise. In mid-afterw noon, we heard helo sounds. “Hey, that n sounds like a Blackhawk” changed to s “Hey, look, a Blackhawk – they must be “ having training missions around here.” h Finally: “Holy (cats) – they’re landing” F and “They’re bringing us pizza?” a Steve and Karl had arranged for the National Guard base in Bethel to bring N pizzas to the river and deliver them to p the guys, who were understandably t blown away. The Guard guys thanked b our soldiers for their service and posed o with their bird for a truly unique Kanekw tok River photo op. t As for working with the guys, when you y have a group dynamic such as this, you y learn that every situation is unique.
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“After 10 years as a first sergeant, I found that it takes a few days for the personalities to sort themselves out,” Mike said. “I learned to figure out the different guys, to learn how to work with them and to just let them all be themselves.” And while everybody didn’t mesh perfectly with every other individual, things settled into a good working relationship; you learned who could take a joke and who couldn’t. One thing that was a bit disconcerting to the more knowledgeable anglers was that after a few days, some of the guys were getting pretty jaded about the fishing. Some got tired of just catching fish after fish and were content to just loll around in the raft and watch Alaska scroll by. Those of us who knew exactly how spectacular this world-class opportunity was kept urging them. “Get your damned line in the water” was often said to no avail. It’s like some of them thought that this was just a typical fishing trip and
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that this was a normal set of circumstances. Well, unless they’re extremely fortunate, chances are their next trip will prove to be eye-opening. “Wait, you mean there are places where you don’t catch a nice fat fish on every cast?” It was a rude awakening for some. Of course, there are worse problems to have on the river than a couple of guys not fishing every possible minute – like bears. And while we didn’t see any brown bears after the first few days, on literally every sandbar we fished from or camped on there were lots of bear tracks. So sightings weren’t an issue, but that sort of thing definitely keeps you on your toes and your head on a swivel at all times. As we got further down the river, by day five we began to hear and see some other boats. There are a couple of fishing camps along the way that move their clients up and down the river via jet boat. This was a reminder that we were getting closer to what passes
for civilization in this part of the state. While it was nice to stop in at one of the camps for coffee and some new faces to see, it still tended to negate some of the uniqueness of our situation. However, the guys at Duncan’s upriver camp radioed to their downriver camp that we were coming, and they had fresh-baked cake waiting for us. It was a pleasant surprise.
ON DAY SEVEN, Steve had a brilliant idea – Guide Appreciation Day. The idea was this: the guides didn’t have to do any work except fish, while the soldiers rowed; then they’d set up camp and do the cooking and cleaning up. Since they’d had a week to watch the real professionals in action, they took to it pretty well. We got to fish and give whoever was on the oars a ration whenever things didn’t go perfectly, and we were able to relax in camp while the guys took care of camp chores. The only glitch came up in the cooking, when we
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heard, “Patrick, how the hell can you burn beans that were already cooked?” Otherwise, it was smooth sailing. Eventually we got down to where we were seeing boats coming upriver from Quinhagak on a regular basis. While the salmon fishing picked up nicely, it was obvious that the trip was coming to an end. On July 30 we got to the village and the work began – hauling out rafts, unpacking everything, repacking for transport, making sure everything was loaded properly. Then it was off to the airport to fly back to Bethel. Once there, the Bethel chapter of the VFW hosted us for a steak dinner. We were able to play a montage of photos from the trip for everyone on a big screen, and they voiced their appreciation for the guys, for their service and for all of the sacrifices they’ve made for their country. After that it was one last night at the Papa Bear guest house, then back to Anchorage. As everyone scattered to their destinations, everyone made
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the usual promises to keep in touch, and that was that. So what does the future hold for trips like this? Steve plans to keep it going as long as he can. And while one of the earlier trips was on a different river, he feels like now that he’s got the Kanektok dialed in, he’ll probably continue to stick with it. “It’s been a phenomenal river,” he said, “And too many things have worked out too well to make a change. If we have a presence on the same place every year, there’s more continuity with sponsors and the other people who help us out.” The range of companies and individuals it takes to put on an expedition like this is phenomenal. Steve, Karl and Papa Bear Adventures have given time, effort and resources to make this happen, and their level of commitment is impressive. In addition, Steve solicits help from local businesses and his co-workers for help, which people supply unselfishly. It’s a humbling experience to be
allowed to participate. So a phenomenal trip went into the memory banks. We had good weather, excellent river conditions, and other than the small scheduling snafu at the beginning of the trip, all went according to Steve’s excellent master plan. And of course, there was the fishing. To be able to access such magnificent fishing over such a long period of time, to hook and land literally hundreds of eager big fish was truly an experience to savor and remember always. And to be able to get to know six guys who have given so much to all of us was truly an honor. I was thankful to the Wounded Warrior Project for allowing me this opportunity. I was talking to Steve, and he said, “I think it was a pretty good trip, don’t you? Would you so it again?” I replied, “Hell yes, I’d do it today!” ASJ Editor’s note: For more information on the Wounded Warrior Project, go to woundedwarriorproject.org.
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The author (left) and Tony Davis celebrate one of the larger coho salmon caught on the trip, which featured sunshine despite the forecast for rain. (KRISTIN DUNN/KCFT)
SILVER LINING RAIN, HUMPIES DON’T DAMPER KENAI COHO FISHING By Dennis Musgraves
S
urfing the Internet for current weather reports had me feeling apprehensive about my travel plans. I saw the same predictions no matter where I looked: there was a 90 percent chance of rain with additional high wind warnings over the Kenai Peninsula. It did not look good for fishing. Telephone exchanges with Tony Davis, our host for the trip, hinted at postponing. However, the conversation did little to persuade me in changing course. I was locked in. Just like the opening line of the U.S. Postal Service’s creed, “neither snow nor rain nor heat nor
gloom of night,” nothing was going to derail this angler from fishing the legendary Kenai River. Fishing for coho, or silver salmon, in September on the emerald river had been decided several months previously. Longtime fishing partner Paul Ferreira and I were thrilled that Tony Davis and Kristin Dunn of Kodiak Custom Fishing Tackle had invited us for two days of fishing and product testing. Weather challenges seemed to be the only issue in stopping us. After much discussion between everyone and accepting lower expectations, we decided to push forward with the adventure. Besides, a nonrefundable airplane ticket trumps adverse weather and high water conditions every time. The Kenai is a popular destina-
tion among anglers searching for trophy-size rainbow trout and Dolly Varden every fall. Paul and I are not exactly strangers to the river, having floated the upper and middle sections frequently. Drifting beads and flesh patterns for trout using a fly rod is my typical gameplan. Targeting silver salmon on the lower Kenai using conventional casting methods would be a new experience for me. Coho return timing on the mighty Kenai usually begins in late August and runs through November. The fish are energetic, chrome bright, and make excellent table fare. Our four-day trip would include two days of fishing, allowing for a day of travel on each end. Fishing the first day would cover the lower Kenai, the final 21 miles of the river. Day two would be spent focused on the middle section, which begins from Skilak Lake outlet NOVEMBER 2014
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Sunset on the Kenai was breathtaking.
we found the 10 percent of good weather?” I told Paul. The predicted windy rainstorm was absent. This was nothing out of the ordinary, considering forecasting Alaska’s weather is not an exact science. Weather patterns and temperatures are unpredictable and well known for drastically changing. This is exactly what was occurring with the impending weather prediction. Fortunately, the main storm front remained offshore, bypassing the Kenai Peninsula. We would escape having to sport fish under a monsoon for the weekend. Paul and I met up with Tony and Kris-
(KRISTIN DUNN)
HEADING TO THE KENAI?
and finishes at Bings Landing.
CHECKING TWO BAGS on the flight seemed like overkill for only a few days, but packing extra raingear was a must for a potential downpour. Paul welcomed me upon arrival to Anchorage International Airport. As we waited to claim my bloated bags at the turnstile he told me, “It was perfect sunny weather here today.” This was not too surprising for me since calm before the storm was part of the forecast. Our chatter continued as we tried to convince each other that we would be ready for whatever Mother Nature presented on the Kenai. We would be sharing the drive to the wet, windy destination of Soldotna the following morning. Concern was not so much for fishing in uncomfortable circumstances, as it was for how it would affect conditions on the river. High water levels from rain change the dynamics dramatically. Morning had us leaving the big city through a steady mist, which probably meant the storm front was just approaching Anchorage, and it may very well be already pouring south of us on the Kenai. Surprisingly, the rain did not increase as we traveled farther south on the Seward Highway; we actually experienced periods of sunshine during the drive. As we approached Soldotna I mocked the weather report – “I guess 112 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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The legendary Kenai River runs 82 miles across the heart of a sportfishing mecca, the Kenai Peninsula. The emerald river is well-known by sport fishermen for producing abundant numbers of several types of Pacific salmon and various resident fish. The waterway is divided into three distinct sections commonly referred to as the upper, middle and lower Kenai. The city of Soldotna provides close proximity to boat launches and shore fishing opportunities for both the lower and middle portions of the river. Several outfitter businesses are available for guided trips. The area is popular for many activities, including wildlife viewing, rafting, hiking and camping. Sportfishing remains the prevailing activity for most visitors. September on the Kenai brings out many anglers targeting trophy-size wild rainbow trout. Silver salmon begin showing up in the lower and middle river in good catchable numbers about the same time frame, and fishing is productive through November. The fish are energetic, dime bright and fresh, making for great table fare.
Tackle box essentials Although techniques for catching silver salmon on the Kenai River vary, including both fly fishing
and conventional gear, I exclusively casted spinner lures in areas away from the main current – deep holes, slack water, eddies and confluences with smaller streams. Salmon have tendencies to hold in these natural resting spots away from the current. These spots can be very productive. Allowing the lure to work near the bottom with a slow retrieve enticed the most action and created aggressive strikes. My choice of gear included the following: Kodiak Custom Fishing Tackle – GI Skirted Spinner in various colors and sizes. (kodiakcustom.com) Temple Fork Outfitters Rods – Gary Loomis Tactical Alaska Series Hot Shot casting rod with carbon fiber grip 8-foot, 8-inch medium-heavy size.(tforods.com) P-Line – CXX X-tra Strong copolymer 12-pound-test fishing line in moss green. (p-line.com) Abu Garcia – 6500C3 reel. (abugarcia.com)
Regulations Strict rules apply for sport fishing in Alaska and individuals should be aware of all the regulations before departing and prior to casting a line. Current regulations, additional information and emergency orders can be found at the Alaska Department of Fish and Game website (adfg.alaska.gov). -DM
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especially a bright rotating blade on a spinning lure. Since the coho and pink salmon share space in the water, avoiding the humpbacked species is nearly impossible.
tin once we reached Soldotna. They had been awaiting our arrival and were just as motivated as we were to catch some chrome-sided fish. Fishing rods and tackle readied, we hitched up a boat and headed to a public boat launch. Tony piloted us upstream to some of his favorite “top secret” honey holes of the lower river. We quickly put the boat in the water, fired up the engine and throttled up the river in search of hungry silvers. Conditions on the river had the water level raised above normal with an overcast sky. A slight drizzle intermittently fell, but thankfully the expected extreme adverse weather had yet to rear its ugliness. We moved against the current for a brisk, 10-minute ride to the first fishing spot. Tony let off the throttle, allowing the boat to glide and gently beach onto a gravel bar. The bar caused a natural division between the main current and a large area of slack water. The boat was cleverly positioned in a manner that allowed all four of us to cast lines and remain inside
“THOSE ARE SILVERS, I bet,” Tony said
Though they were considered a bit of a nuisance given that coho were targeted, some large pink salmon were also landed by the author and his fishing partners. (KRISTIN DUNN)
the craft. I could noticeably see several fish spread out in the eddy, although I was unsure of their identity. Since it’s an even year, the Kenai was flooded with returning pink salmon during midsummer, and many of the fish were still hanging on to life. The spawning humpies create an obstacle for anglers trying to score silvers. Pinks seem to bite at anything that moves,
to my delight in referring to the fish hovering in some frog water. His tone caused us to pounce immediately, and Paul and I began casting our lures. My sights were set on the water’s edge near the river bank. The intent was to let the spinner sink low and be retrieved slowly. Working the lure through the water column, close to the bottom, creates response in salmon to begin tracking the circulating device like a heat-seeking missile, and then blow up with an aggressive strike. I don’t profess to understand the science behind why salmon hypnotically attack the rotating blade dressed up in a silicone skirt; I just know from firsthand results that spinning lures are very effective.
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Among a colorful selection of spinners, both pink and silver salmon were glad to munch on them. (KRISTIN DUNN)
Lures, however, only work as good as an angler’s presentation. I quickly confirmed that theory with my second cast. I unintentionally cast over the top of a tree limb protruding from the river bank, and my lure went loop to loop,
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wrapping my fishing line and hanging up. I was stuck. Paul stayed on target with his aim, snickering at me in good fun as I tried to free my setup. Since we all wore chest waders, Paul and I were able to exit the
boat and wade along the gravel bar. I feverishly tried to pull and wiggle the snag free as he continued to cast away at the hole. As I grew increasingly frustrated at my situation, the water in front of me erupted, and Paul yelled, “Fish on!” I could see Paul in my peripheral vision with his rod wildly arching as a turbulent spray of water splashed high into the air from a hooked chrome fish. As Paul worked on controlling the spunky coho, I reeled down on my line and yanked hard, breaking free of the large branch and giving Paul needed room in case his fish decided to make a run for it. Tony leaped into action while Paul played the fish. Securing a net, he exited the boat onto the gravel bar and moved into a good position to get the energetic salmon I stood in awe as I watched Paul win the struggle, turning the powerful coho towards Tony while he grasped the handle of a large hoop framed net resting just below the water. They worked in unison, Paul using his rod to guide the
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fish right over the net, which Tony lifted at the right moment. “Success!” he shouted. The silver salmon was at least 10 pounds. Tony and Paul exchanged highfives and dispatched the catch; Kristin took some grin-and-grip shots. The celebration left me asking only one important question: “What color was that?” referring to the skirted spinner he was using. “Pink,” was Paul’s quick response. Since I had just broken off and lost my previous lure, I thought – like any good fisherman would – tying on the hot color lure would yield positive results. But because the slack water area was disrupted from the violent activity of catching a rambunctious coho, and probably had all the fish skittish to bite, Tony decided to move us to another location. So we mounted up and moved upriver towards the next prospecting site. We fished several locations Tony favored but with little
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The author celebrates with two coho, including what was estimated to be a 17-pounder. Threats of heavy rain were greatly exaggerated, and a good time was had by all. (KRISTIN DUNN)
action. We decided to try one last area he thought might hold silvers before returning to the boat ramp. The decision to fish the last stretch ended up being very productive; our group caught several bright and healthy fish in 20 minutes. I was able to harvest a nice fish that went just over 10 pounds; Kristin managed to catch the biggest silver on the day at about 16. Although the fishing action was not great throughout the entire lower river, we could not have asked for better weather considering the forecasted rain that never showed, and the fact that no one in the crew was leaving the river rolling a doughnut.
AFTER AN EVENING of rain showers, the morning greeted us with fairly clear skies and signs of sunshine. Our second and final day was going to be on the middle section of the Kenai. Tony was more hopeful for better production upriver after the mediocre previous day. We would take a short drive and launch from the popular Bings LandNOVEMBER 2014
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ing, heading upstream once again. Unlike the previous day, judging from the amount of boat trailers in the parking area we would not be alone. We passed several boats on our way to Tony’s first fishing spot. Most of the anglers we scooted by looked to be fly fishing from drifting boats, probably targeting trout and not salmon. Tony was taking us to a particular deeply cut back eddy he had fished a week prior with great results, but with all the pressure, would the area be already occupied by other fishermen? Fingers crossed, we continued carving a wake up the river. Luckily, as we approached Tony’s happy place the area was boat-free. The shallow, calm water was a good location for silvers to take a break out of the main current, but the unpleasant smell of rotting salmon carcasses was probably a good indicator why no one else had anchored. The still water displayed some signs of life, with zombie-like pinks sporadically breaching the surface, some randomly jumping in the air every few minutes.
Tony positioned the boat so it would drift down the middle of the eddy, which appeared to be about three football fields in length and 60 feet wide. The water level was too high for any of us to leave the boat, so the four of us began casting from the floating craft. My first cast sailed a good distance and, after a pause, I began retrieving the lure. I felt an unmistakable bump only after a few cranks on the reel handle, and I instinctively set the hook. “I got one!” Yet it did not feel like the fish had much energy. The pressure on my rod told me it was a fish, but the lack of surface disturbance indicated it was probably not a coho. Rapidly winding line on my spool, I brought the fish closer toward me. As it crested the water I confirmed it was a bothersome humpy. It was to be the first of many. The four of us frequently took turns unintentionally catching and releasing pink salmon. Casting and cranking in the slack water with large-sized skirted spin-
ners was proving productive, but for the wrong type of fish. I was on the verge of suggesting a move with the boat when Kristin’s rod suddenly got slammed. “It’s silver!” she shouted, raising the rod tip and putting pressure on the fish as it thrashed wildly about the surface. It also renewed my enthusiasm that there were more out there, not just half-dead fish in the depths of the lagoon. Tony quickly netted the fish, and after a short celebration and photos, everyone went back to throwing lures. I stood on the bow of the boat refocused and rejuvenated, watching the action of my spinner under the water as it traveled closer to the boat. As I made the final cranks on the reel handle, a huge shadow swiftly chased down the orange-and-chartreuse bait only a few feet away. My spinner disappeared as the torpedo-shaped object below abruptly stopped over it and chomped. Angler instinct took over in a flash, sharply pulling up on my rod to set the hook. I instantly felt the resistance
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and knew I had the fish. Paul had been standing close by; before I could say a single word, he yelled, “Dude, I saw that!” The silver was huge and did not like being hooked. The fish raged as my rod doubled over. I was somewhere between a panic attack and euphoria during the thick of battle, suddenly having a big ol’ coho buck, from literally out of nowhere, grab my offering and begin playing tug of war. Water whipped wildly, splashing in all directions as Tony secured the net. I was holding on, barely in control and trying my best to steer the tail-dancing salmon towards the net. Tony timed it perfectly and lifted the net just as the fish passed over, capturing the beast with a single upward swoop. Both my arms shot out in triumph straight into the air upon seeing the monster fish trapped in the net. I could not contain myself and screamed out a deranged-sounding “Yessss!” The fish was bonked, held for some victory photos and hung on a hand scale. This salmon not only looked heavy but was
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heavy. I held the measuring device with both hands in order to support the weight of the large coho as Kristin called out the numbers on the scale: “Sixteen, 16½, close to 17.” Although not exact, I took the benefit of the doubt and claimed the 17-pound mark. My forearms agreed it was that big; with no objections from the others on board, I deemed the catch as my largest coho salmon ever caught from the Kenai River.
ACCOMPLISHING SUCH A milestone was very unexpected. I initially envisioned the trip being extremely wet, bitterly cold and fishless due to an adverse weather forecast and high water levels. But I savored the moment of the big catch for the remainder of the day. We continued fishing into the late afternoon, moving to several of Tony’s prime spots for silvers on that middle stretch. The high and dirty water continued to make fishing a challenge, but we managed to prevent a shutout with everyone again catching at least one coho, plus
multiple irritating pink salmon. Tony made a prudent call for last cast just prior to sunset, leaving us ample daylight to return to the boat ramp and clean our fish. Quality over quantity seemed to be the theme of our trip; not a single coho caught was less than 10 pounds during either day of fishing. The mighty Kenai River once again provided Paul and me with a great sportfishing experience. Being able to sample a variety of custom lures with the actual designer was a unique opportunity. Even better was achieving a personal best catch, harvesting healthy fresh salmon to eat, and reaffirming the notion that a gloomy weather forecast is not a reason to avoid the remarkable salmon fishing opportunities on the Kenai River during the fall. ASJ Editor’s note: Author Dennis Musgraves fishes all over the state for over 100 days a year as a member of the Alaskan Salmon Slayers. Check them out at alaskansalmonslayers.com.
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Holiday Gift Guide The Shaw Backpack Drill www.backpackdrill.com (971) 998-7657 Hit how you like, when you like, where you like. The Shaw backpack drill, made by Shaw Tool of Yamhill, Ore., was invented by Neil Shaw, patented and first marketed in 2000. From its first offering, recreational prospectors have strongly embraced it. Sold as full kits, this small but powerful handheld tool has been upgraded many times since its first offering to increase its advantage over bigger drills â&#x20AC;&#x201C; portability, self-containment, fast-cutting rate and ease of use. Customers have used it to often deeply sample rock in diverse circumstances from limestone be-
neath shallow coastal lagoon waters in Samoa; petroleum-bearing reservoir rock high in the Peruvian Andes; ruby-bearing schists near the Arctic coast of Greenland; copper- and uranium-bearing sandstone in the Grand Canyon of the Colorado; and gold-bearing granite for a Gold Rush TV episode ďŹ lmed near Haines, Alaska.
Alaska Birch Syrup alaskabirchsyrup.com (800)380-7457 We mix wild cranberries and rosehips in a spicy sweet grilling sauce or ketchup, and sweeten it it with our own Alaska Birch Syrup. GO WILD! Just $15 per 10-ounce jar.
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Alaska Company Profiles Taquan Air www.taquanair.com (907) 225-8800
Pearson’s Pond Luxury Inn And Adventure Spa pearsonspond.com (907) 789-3772 Imagine yourself relaxing by a pond in a rainforest hot tub; or biking to a glacier, savoring a glass of wine in front of your own fireplace and enjoying a five-star breakfast while planning your day’s activities. All of this and more await you at Pearson’s Pond Luxury Inn and Adventure Spa. Pearson’s Pond provides Juneau’s No. 1 accommodations. Its casual elegance and exceptional services ensure you will make the most of your trip to Alaska. Well-known as an outstanding adventure and romance destination, Pearson’s Pond is on a fully wooded lot alongside a glacial kettle pond. The Pond’s rooms feature eco-friendly fireplaces, sitting areas, kitchenettes and Select Comfort Sleep Number queen beds. Our master-planned gardens have been called “enchanted” and have two outdoor hot tubs, a sauna, three gazebos, a small waterfall, boats on the pond and a campfire perfect for making s’mores. We also offer offsite one-bedroom condominiums well-suited for longer stays. The condos are fully furnished and equipped, including an in-suite laundry room. With excellent views of Mount Roberts, covered parking and a balcony, the condos are perfect for guests who prefer self-sufficiency and are planning to stay for an extended period of time. The Pearson’s Pond concierge can help you plan all your Juneau adventures, your all-Alaska trip and your destination wedding with venues that include exchanging vows atop a glacier. Our primary goal is to help you have the Alaska experience of your dreams, and we welcome the opportunity to do so.
Taquan Air, Ketchikan’s finest floatplane operation. Our fleet of eight de Havilland Beavers and one Cessna Caravan provide service ranging from Misty Fjords Flightseeing tours to daily scheduled service to the bush communities of Southeast Alaska. Whatever your needs are let our staff at Taquan help you realize your Alaskan adventure. Taquan Air is committed to having the nicest fleet of de Havilland aircraft in commercial operation while maintaining the highest level of safety in ground and flight operations. This goal begins with aircraft maintenance and aesthetics. The company’s comprehensive maintenance program is staffed with a highly trained and experienced team of aviation professionals working in a state-of-the-art facility. The company’s safety plan has been expanded to include participation in the nationally acclaimed Medallion program and FAA’s Capstone program. Taquan continues to be Ketchikan’s only five-star Medallion shield carrier.
Maxine’s Fireweed Bistro maxinesfireweedbistro.com (907) 770-7600 Maxine’s Fireweed Bistro offers fine dining in a casual atmosphere, using the freshest of local ingredients. Chef Robert Lewis is the owner and operator and is a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America. Chef Lewis is passionate about having an ever-changing fresh seasonal menu, and our Sommelier-selected wine and beer list is as innovative and fresh as the ingredients we use. Everything at Maxine’s Fireweed Bistro is made from scratch – from our house-baked bread and flatbreads, to every sauce and sorbet. Newly located in An-
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chorage, many of your favorites from our previous Girdwood location have made the move to Anchorage, as well as a host of new culinary surprises.
mountain views from most every window. All cabins have private baths, charcoal grills and decks for enjoying the outdoors.
Kodiak Sportsmanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Lodge kodiaksportsmanslodge.com (907) 982-7585
Riverhaven Cabins riverhaven@arctic.net (907) 398-8834 Riverhavenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s log cabins are located in beautiful Cooper Landing, Alaska, and nestled among the birch and spruce trees along the banks of the world-famous Kenai River. The teal-colored upper Kenai River is surrounded by mountains, and ďŹ shing opportunities abound. The conďŹ&#x201A;uence of the mighty Kenai and the world-famous Russian River is only 6 miles from the cabins. The Russian has one of the most productive sockeye salmon runs in the world. The Kenai also has sockeye, king and coho salmon, and fabulous rainbow trout ďŹ shing. Riverhavenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s log cabins range from small to large and are like having your own private place on the river. The cabins are updated with satellite TV, LCD ďŹ&#x201A;atscreen televisions, free wireless and fully equipped kitchens. There are river or
Come experience the best ďŹ shing and Sitka blacktail deer hunting Kodiak Island has to offer! Our lodge is nestled behind Sitkalidak Island and is rated the No. 1 ďŹ shery in protected waters. It is only 15 minutes to ďŹ sh on calm waters in our private, pristine Sitkalidak Straits. With the highest ďŹ shing limits in Alaska for king and coho salmon, lingcod, yelloweye, black bass and gray cod, you will go home with plenty to share with friends. Enjoy breathtaking views, a comfortable lodge, hospital staff, fantastic food, great ďŹ shing and hunting, and world-class wildlife viewing. Being an all-inclusive lodge allows guests to show up and relax as everything is taken care of by owners Gary Sampson and Jeanne Sampson, also our chef. Check out our website or give us a shout! We love an-
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swering questions and helping people get to our beautiful state of Alaska. So join us soon and become part of the Kodiak Sportsman’s Lodge Family!
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Kodiak Russian River Lodge ( 907) 487-4430 kodiakrussianriverlodge.com Kodiak Russian River Lodge is located on the edge of the Alaskan wilderness and boasts incredible mountain views and easy access to a variety of outdoor activities, including fishing, hunting and sightseeing. The bed and breakfast is surrounded on three sides by spectacular mountains, and on the fourth by Womens Bay (part of the Gulf of Alaska). The area, locally known as Bells Flats, is located 6 miles from the airport and 4 miles to the Coast Guard base south of the town of Kodiak. It is also close to fishing and hunting areas. We are a half block off the Chiniak Highway and walking distance to the ocean, Sergeant Creek, Russian River, and the Rendezvous Bar and Grill. We are approximately 100 yards from the AC store, a small rural convenience store for
Anvik River Lodge (888) 362-6845 anviklodge.com Over our 20 years in business, we love to hear some people ask us, “Where’s the Anvik River Lodge? I’ve never heard of it.” It’s true that the Anvik isn’t super famous, except amongst those who’ve been lucky enough to discover its bounty of fish, amazing lack of people and outstanding hospitality. We’re the only lodge on the Anvik River, one of the most important fish-producing tributaries to the mighty Yukon. With over 500,000 salmon and the resident pike, char, Dolly Varden, grayling and whitefish, the variety of fly or spin opportunities make for incredible fishing. If you’re tired of all the crowds and are looking for an extremely comfortable, truly remote wilderness experience that guests return to time after time, plan a trip to Alaska’s Anvik River Lodge and come enjoy this little known, but perfect vacation destination.
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LogCabinResortandRVPark.com The Prince Of Wales Island
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DARKEST DAYS OF CAMP BY CHRISTINE CUNNINGHAM
T
here’s something romantic about sitting under the stars and knowing that only your own survival skills will sustain you; that is, as long as you’re not in your own living room.
My electricity went out for four days due to wind storms. But instead of seeing it as a golden opportunity to exercise my woodsmanship-like-prowess, I ran around frantically lighting candles with only a headlamp between me and total darkness. After the house glowed
der me invisible – and it’s a good thing, too. Scentlock technology replaces the shower, and all those things the dental hygienist tells me to do go out the window because my chewing gum is winter fresh. The cold air makes me feel alive. At home, the alarm clock wakes me
SOMEHOW I MANAGE TO FEIGN SLEEP LONG ENOUGH THAT SOMEONE ELSE MAKES THE COFFEE. in pre-modern-electric-utility-industry light, I sat in my recliner with a shotgun in my lap waiting for the looters. The difference between a power outage in your home and camping without power is about like the difference between driving your work vehicle, which has auto start and heated seats, and your all-terrain vehicle, which has mud tires and a snorkel. In extreme circumstances and with some modification, they could fill in for each other, but they were not made to pull double duty. My house as a campsite had none of the allure of an actual campsite, especially when I needed to get ready for work in the morning. At camp, I wake up and literally roll out of bed (since I’m either on the top bunk or on the ground) to the smell of coffee brewing. Somehow, I manage to feign sleep long enough that someone else makes the coffee. I take mine without cream or sugar. Next, I don several layers of hunting gear until the powers of camouflage ren134 ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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up – it’s like waking up to the middle of a high-speed chase in which I’m asleep at the wheel. Life in the fast lane starts with several reflex actions – the snakelike speed in which I silence the alarm in five-minute increments until, finally, the daily grind must begin. Instead of camouflaging myself to the environment, I camouflage myself to resemble a better-looking version of myself. I do all those things the dental hygienist tells me to do. Well, I skip a few so that we have something to talk about at the annual cleaning. My first coffee is a heavily sugared mocha that costs $5 and requires a professional staff working out of a mobile office to make. The cold morning air makes me feel cold. A power outage slams these two worlds together so that I am in a complete state of confusion. Without an alarm clock or the smell of percolated house blend, I am incapable of waking up for work. I jump out of bed and flip the light switch. It is dead. My house is
full of sharp corners and random objects. I fasten the headlamp to my head and look in the bathroom mirror since the light blinds me. I can’t find my teeth with my toothbrush and have toothpaste all over my chin. The last of the water chokes out of the faucet and I briefly consider the toilet as the last source of water should I become stranded and dehydrated. When I open the door, the cold morning air makes me feel scared. It doesn’t matter that I have camping supplies and a collection of fine guns I could use to protect myself; everything is put away in dark cupboards and containers. The image of a powerless eternity flashes before my eyes. I picture packs of domestic dogs scavenging the neighborhood; escaped zoo animals crawling into secondstory windows; crazed mental patients staggering in the street; businessmen in ragged suits fighting over the last saltine cracker in the break room. I closed the door and briefly considered holing up for the duration. I’ll just go sit in the titanium bunker built under the shed and wait until I see a dove carrying an olive branch. But in the interest of continuing to earn an income, I drove to work, albeit in the comfort of those heated seats. People at work were talking about how they had things like generators and wood stoves and applications on their cell phones that allowed them to be teleported to tropical regions in which they were capable of ordering blended drinks and getting a tan. I don’t have any of these things. I like the great outdoors and I like to have faith in the answer of the lineman to my plea to restore power to the line. As the lyrics to Jimmy Webb’s famous electricity song “Wichita Lineman” go, “I need you more than want you, and I want you for all time.” ASJ
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