By Kirk Deeter
Day 1. Wednesday. What Have I Gotten Myself Into?
It was an offer I could not refuse. After all, when you get a writing assignment that involves fishing in the Alaskan wilderness, you have to jump at it, no matter what the catch, right?
Well, this story did come with a catch … actually, four catches. And on the first day in Alaska, I realized I might be in deep trouble.
The plan was for me to join an entourage from Field & Stream's sister publication QUAD Off-Road Magazine on a week-long expedition. It was supposed to be a whirlwind "groundstorming" tour, where we'll sample ATV adventures along the coast near Homer, and then bushwhack deep into the Talkeetna Mountains north of Anchorage, sampling the fishing along the way.
Sounded great … but catch number one was that none of the other guys flyfished. And, while we'd be in the hands of expert ATV guide Tim Cook of Alaska ATV Adventures (who more than knew the lay of the land), I'd be the de-facto fishing guide. Tim's job was to find the water and steer us around the bears. My job was to find the fish and get them in the net.
Which would have been cool, if not for catch two. Namely, I had only been to Alaska once before, and that was in the early season (June), two years earlier. I'd never seen an Alaskan coho anywhere but on a dinner platter, let alone cast at one. What the heck. I figured I could fudge my expertise, ask some buddies for advice, bum a few flies, and learn on the job. In the worst case, I'd hope for a silver or two to commit suicide by eating one of my borrowed streamers, and everything would be hunky-dory.
[full article]
Day 1. Wednesday. What Have I Gotten Myself Into?
It was an offer I could not refuse. After all, when you get a writing assignment that involves fishing in the Alaskan wilderness, you have to jump at it, no matter what the catch, right?
Well, this story did come with a catch … actually, four catches. And on the first day in Alaska, I realized I might be in deep trouble.
The plan was for me to join an entourage from Field & Stream's sister publication QUAD Off-Road Magazine on a week-long expedition. It was supposed to be a whirlwind "groundstorming" tour, where we'll sample ATV adventures along the coast near Homer, and then bushwhack deep into the Talkeetna Mountains north of Anchorage, sampling the fishing along the way.
Sounded great … but catch number one was that none of the other guys flyfished. And, while we'd be in the hands of expert ATV guide Tim Cook of Alaska ATV Adventures (who more than knew the lay of the land), I'd be the de-facto fishing guide. Tim's job was to find the water and steer us around the bears. My job was to find the fish and get them in the net.
Which would have been cool, if not for catch two. Namely, I had only been to Alaska once before, and that was in the early season (June), two years earlier. I'd never seen an Alaskan coho anywhere but on a dinner platter, let alone cast at one. What the heck. I figured I could fudge my expertise, ask some buddies for advice, bum a few flies, and learn on the job. In the worst case, I'd hope for a silver or two to commit suicide by eating one of my borrowed streamers, and everything would be hunky-dory.
[full article]
