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November 22nd, 2009 admin Leave a comment Go to comments

An Alaska Fishing Experience on Lake Creek Village & Travels in Skwentna, Alaska

The ringing of the telephone cut through the darkness, I shook my core. It was 4:30 am, and in the few moments before Ken could pick up the phone on its side of the bed, I thought all the possible disaster in the book.

"Who is it?" I mouth, unable to stand the tension even more. "Northwest Airlines ...." he lip syncs back to me. And yes, our vacation began. For months we had been planning it - our return to Alaska after a break of two years. And now, the recording on the other side of the phone telling us our flight was canceled because the Duluth Airport was socked by fog. "Oh, noooooo ....." I moaned into my pillow. I quickly reemerged, however. "Let us in the car, drive to Minneapolis and catch it! " I cried. We jumped out of bed and scrambled around in the darkness - to take decisions quickly to despair. Twelve hours later, we found ourselves circling above the tree-covered hills, dramatic ocean flats and snow-capped mountains surrounding Anchorage. It was like coming home again - our fourth trip to a country, we have grown to know and would love since our son, Jason, first moved there to attend the university in Fairbanks.

We have a quick trip to the market for supply to the pantry to fill in the fishing lodge Jason now works at Lake Creek, we arrived at Rust's Flying Service on Lake Hood shortly before 5 hours our four large duffel bags and five boxes of groceries. A group of tourists who had just returned from a trip to see flight Mount McKinley seemed impressed by our mountain of gear. "You would think that we go hunting for caribou weeks, would not you?" I noticed with a grin on anyone in the particular. We went to the office and checked in for our float plane flight and then back outside to wait for our departure. An older woman in the provisional flight show group approached me and shyly asked, "Are you really going caribou hunting? "" No, "I laughed," we actually go out of our son to be fishing. "" Oh, damn! "she said, looking disappointed." I was so impressed to think that you actually go caribou hunting! "

It was only the next morning, When we finally knees in the middle of Lake Creek in our hip waders that I finally began to relax and let Alaska really began to seep under my skin and save me from stress and tension of the days and weeks prior to that time. Before I was ready, a silver salmon hit my line. "Mom, Mom, let him run with it! "Shouted Jason. "And do not forget to keep your rod tip or it will break right!" No matter how many times I've done it before, I always seem to have that "break in "period where I forget everything I've learned - and just panic. And as soon as it started, my" battle "with the fish was over when he broke loose and shot away. The Before long, but my line for another hit. In this time of year, the salmon preparing to spawn, so they get the bait out more anger and distraction than hunger, and they put a powerful fight when hooked.

My line zinged almost constantly as the silver salmon made run after run it, and finally he cartwheel its entire length above the surface of the water. "Man, oh, man," I yelled. "This is life!" Remembering my last carefully supervised by order of a few years ago I I patiently worked the fish until I got him up far enough to shore for Jason to ease him out of the water.

The 8-pound salmon was solid muscle and in the beginning of the grip of the turning scarlet in the sentinel spawning. Intends to release him, I wanted my first picture with him. I gave my digital camera to Jason, and he carefully transferred fish My longing to understand. "Now, Mom," Jason warned, "Be careful to squeeze him too hard, but keep a firm grip, so he is not away from you ...."

I hit a hand around the base of the tail of the fish and carefully slid the other just below its gills, keeping them low in the water. And then, when I looked into the lens of the camera and turned on a dazzling smile, the fish has a powerful twist - and got away.

Part II

The bone-chilling cold of the morning was warring with the sleep-inducing heat of the big quilt that engulfed us. The sky was night erased, and the temperature had plunged below freezing, coating the grass and porch of our little cabin with a brittle coat of frost. Although it would have been easy to give in to the beckoning of our warm covers, the thought of hot coffee thermos, I knew would be waiting for the door to the porch railing was too strong to resist.

I crept carefully into jeans that were as cold as the outside air, dragged a sweater over my head and ran out to the waiting and grab the big Thermos mug that accompanied it.

I knew my son, Jason, was probably up all hours and I wondered how all things come full circle .... Later we walked to the main lodge, where Jason was frying hash browns richly interspersed with onions on the grill in the kitchen. Off in another corner of the grill was a mountain of scrambled eggs with thick slices of sausage. Breakfast is certainly one of the highlights of the day at Wilderness Place Lodge, and after one sniff of its delicious aromas, was there is no turning back! We pretty much inhaled our breakfast, though - like set put on our planned trip to a salmon creek known as Eight Mile, an increase of the mighty Yenta and Skwentna, Alaska rivers. We were quickly zoom to the Yenta in one of the lodge's flat-bottom jet boats, bundled up to the eyebrows at the frosty morning air. For once, I felt like my eye sockets were freezing - until we round a bend in the river and were greeted by the full panorama of the Alaska Range in bold relief against the clear morning sky. It took our collective breath away, and we forget all about the cold.

At last we arrived at our destination - a bar just on the confluence of the Skwentna, Alaska and Eight Mile. We stranded the boat, threw the anchor ashore and on board with all our stuff.

As the morning sun began to warm us, it was one days in contrast to some others - the silvers were biting! Silver salmon fishing contest, and their acrobatics and reel smoking runs make stream fishing for them as exciting as any fish I have ever met. A minutes drive line passing through of pockets of calm water along the coastline, and the next, the muscular fish with spine-tingling hit aggression and go to the wildest game Tug-of-war you've every played!

And although we did struggle with so many of them our arms ached at the end of the morning, we only kept three of them - one to eat for dinner that night and two to take back and smoke on els a slow burning fire in the smoker.

Before heading back to the lodge, we decided to stop and walk in the River Road Skwentna, Alaska House for lunch in the warm, home cooking of the old two-story house located in a small clearing in the woods. The Road House, like so many others throughout Alaska, is intended as a stop-over site for travelers in the remote wilderness of Alaska. This particular one also once served as a winter house for children whose families lived in isolated areas for them to go to school every day. It also plays host to race spectators during the famous Iditarod Sled Dog Race each year (the Skwentna, Alaska Post Office across the river is the first official race stopover).

The couple who owned and run the roadhouse the past 40 years has tried to retire for the past few years, so they can fulfill their dream to live a sailboat off the coast of Baja California. Unfortunately - they have not been able to find a buyer so they are still ongoing.

Part of the ritual of stopping there is around the large kitchen table and "shooting the breeze" with them for a while before ordering your food - how your stomach is empty. If we we were all from northern Minnesota, The husband, John, said with a grin, "Wow - if I could not tell from the accent!" "Whoo-ee, Joyce," he guffawed to his wife: "Maybe we need the tape Fargo, "while these people are ...!!"

Information on Wilderness Place Lodge found online at: