Winters Grip

This story is meant, in hopes, to paint a picture for you, what things look like in the off-season. And to show an appreciation and understanding of nature, in the midst of Winters Grip.

If you have had a chance to visit Alaskan Adventures lodge it was most likely pretty favorable weather with lush green bushes and trees about. From end of May till September that is pretty typical, however, the golden yellow of autumn comes quick at the end of the season and it you can watch the trees leaves change to yellow and be gone in almost a week. It is very soon after that everything turns cold and white with snow.

Often when I meet folks that have never been to the lodge and we talk about Alaska, the conversation often shifts to the question of, “I bet it is freezing cold at night in the summer” or “how much snow do you see in the summer”. And to be honest summers are typically quite warm. We never see snow and RARELY does it ever get below 40 degrees Fahrenheit unless it is late August or September. As a matter of fact, I have seen two weeks of 90 degrees and the rest of the summer it stayed in the 80’s. That’s right! -in Alaska! That was a bit much if you ask me. Typically, where we are I would expect an average of 70 degrees during the day and 50’s at night and that’s perfect, in my opinion!

Now, once September hits the temperature really starts to get cold and it does not surprise me to see frozen puddles in the later part of September. When this happens it is just a reminder as to what is to come. It is rare that we ever see snow in September, with that, we do sparsely but it does not make its presence known until further into October. Once October rolls around things usually turn white and stay that way until the thaw, sometimes not until May some years.

Winter Months can get extremely cold. So cold, that I have heard from old timers that negative 75 degrees has happened, and it has been common for negative 50 degrees to last for seven days straight. In Alaska it can get COLD and it is not a dry cold, as a matter of fact, it is a damp cold and, My oh my! That is cold! Cold enough that the river freezes solid with six feet of ice. Six feet of ice sounds like a lot and it is, however, when spring rolls around it melts rather quick. In May I have seen it take only one-two weeks for these big ice chunks to melt.

With the extreme cold it is amazing that wildlife can survive in conditions like this, but nature has ways of prevailing. Bears, for example, will sleep for four to six months… Must be nice! However, I think most of us have heard about the sleeping bear magic, but have you heard about the frog that lives in Alaska? Yes, amphibians in Alaska! To me, it is amazing to think this is even possible since it gets SO COLD in Alaska. What really amazes me is that the ground in Alaska stays frozen well into July. The wood frogs live in the ground and literally freeze with the ground. During this frozen time their heart slows to almost one beat a minute. Just barely enough to keep the frog alive until winters grip loses its strength.

In the heart of winter, the shortest days in Alaska do not allow for much light. Only five and a half hours of daylight during this time. If you are into watching stars or Northern lights, winter is the optimal time of the year for you. You had better bring your extra layers and down jacket because Winters Grip peaks at this time!

Spring in Alaska is short lived and usually lasts the end of April to the beginning of May as the river opens up and the ice break happens. During this time we have seen four to six feet of snow at the lodge that has accumulated all winter, and in a matter of two to three weeks, we watch it all disappear. We enjoy watching the change in seasons as Winters Grip gets warmed away, however, we also pray for a slow release. Because when nature slowly loosens her grip, the river has a chance to move all that water downstream. If the earth warms too quickly, the river will rise and rise and rise until EVERYTHING floods. The flush is a good because it moves all the remnants of winter downstream, however, a large flood is not a good thing for the salmon smolt. The pike and sheefish end up moving into the timbered areas of the flood and once the river recedes these fish become trapped and eventually die. This purge of the river could be nature’s way of creating an eb an flow.

It is amazing to me how nature thrives in the extreme temperatures that Alaska throws at all things living. From the extremely cold in the winter to some extreme cases of heat in the summer. The idea that this amount of life can thrive in these extremes from fish to frogs, to bugs, to birds. Alaska is a land of extremes that everyone should experience. So, when visiting the lodge be sure to ask about how things looked in the midst of Winters Grip.

A River In Time

By Jeff Woleslagle

He woke oddly refreshed and for the first time in a week, his back didn’t hurt when he rose from the bed. “You were dreaming again George” Nancy said, as he walked into the kitchen. He reached for the coffee pot to fill a mug already waiting on the counter. “Was I?” he grinned. The dream was fresh in his 80-year-old mind and he was a little startled at having it for the second time in four days. He had never been kind to have recurring dreams or to even remember them at all really. Sure, there was the occasional odd one, that somehow slipped from your slumbering subconscious to the conscious, waking part of your brain, but those were usually quickly forgotten. Flowing from memory like dry sand through parted fingers. Everything about this dream seemed so vivid. So real. The sights, the sounds, the smells, the landscape – all of it.

He recalled the first time he had the dream about three months ago. Back then, it wasn’t as clear. He remembered stringing his fly rod and making his way down a stone path to a beautiful river shrouded in the morning mist. The day held promise he thought. Gazing through the low fog, he saw there was another angler already thigh deep in the flow and he looked vaguely familiar. He knew he recognized this person’s unique casting form and the rhythm and cadence with which he worked the line. He tried to step into the inviting water and at that moment he woke up. The image would linger in his mind for much of the day and it was over dinner when he finally connected the casting form with the angler. His uncle James had been wounded in World War Two, on D-Day. Taking a piece of shrapnel to his left arm on the beaches of Normandy, but he was lucky to leave that place alive. Many in the platoon he stormed the shore with that day did not. He didn’t lose the function of his arm from the injury, but nerves and a tendon were severed, and they would never be the same. It gave his casting a jerky form, but he compensated amazingly well. He was one of the best George had ever seen at putting a fly right where it needed to be. James had been the one to introduce him to fly fishing and it ignited a lifelong passion for the sport. H Hh

The next time he had the dream, he waved to James standing in the middle of the river and James waved back. He went upstream so as not to disturb his uncle and at the base of the next pool was another angler already claiming it. This one had his back to George and again it was somehow familiar. When the fisherman turned to face the bank, George felt his chest tighten at the sight of his older brother. He hadn’t seen Max in so long he could barely remember. It had been what, 20 years since the accident? Probably many more than that. Max was known for his frugality and he wore an old tan vest that was threadbare in places. George had bought him a new one as a Christmas present, but it was a gift he never got the chance to deliver. The memories he had of the two of them fishing together washed over him in waves. There was the giant brown trout Max caught below the falls on a tributary to Lake Michigan that was as beautiful in coloration as it was large, stretching to almost 25 inches. George watched him fight the fish on the light tippet for almost 15 minutes before it came to the net. Max would wear the smile from that encounter for over a week. There was a time in the Adirondacks that they both took one step too many into a river that was running high. They lost their footing at the exact same time and were swept downstream to a small spit of sand jutting out into the flow. There were some lost fly boxes as well as bruised bodies and equally bruised egos, but they were ok. They sat on the bank for a time in silence, cold and soaked to the bone, and then Max began to laugh that infectious laughter of his. Before he could stop himself, George too was busting a gut. They laughed until their sides hurt and then Max said “Lets dry out and go get a cup of coffee. My treat.” George shot back with “You didn’t hit your head on a rock, did you?” in disbelief at his brother’s offer to buy. Again, a hearty round of laughter ensued. It was after that trip that they got matching wading sticks so they could always check the depth in front of them. Overcome at the sight of his brother, George lifted a foot to step into the current and make his way over and suddenly his eyes shot open. He looked at the bedroom ceiling and smiled. It was great to see Max again, if only in his sleep.

A week later, again the dream came to visit. This time the air held that freshness that only the early morning hours can possess. A grouse was drumming on a distant log and the trout lilies were in the splendor of full bloom. Again, he waved to James as he walked along the path and worked his way upstream. When he got to the next pocket, Max was concentrating intently on a fish rising in front of him and George felt compelled to move up to the next pool. Rounding a bend, he immediately recognized the angler who sat on the far bank with his back against a sturdy oak tree. George froze in his tracks as he watched in disbelief. His father lifted the old blue steel rod from where it rested in the center of a forked stick that had been placed in the soft earth to hold it. He gave the rod a quick sweep to set the hook and there was a brief battle before he netted a gorgeous specimen of a brook trout. The small hook that was attached to the black cotton line had been baited with a lively red worm. He watched his dad carefully remove the hook and then add the trout to a small rope stringer that held three others, all about equal in size. His father then became aware of George’s presence and looked at his son and smiled. He waved and George could see the calloused and rough hands of a man that had spent most of his life working hard to provide for his family. He didn’t fish much, but when he did he thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it. In direct contrast to his hard-worn hands, he had blue eyes the color of faded denim that projected kindness and caring. When those eyes locked onto George’s, George was overcome with emotion. Here was the man who had taught him so much about the important things in life. So much of it George had learned just from his example, with few words being exchanged in the process. He went to wade across to embrace his dad and found himself suddenly wide awake.  The best dream yet, George thought.

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

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

For as long as I can remember sheefish or Inconnu have been a wonder to a lot of anglers looking for something different. I think the wonder is the fact that there is not a lot of places in the world where you can catch sheefish. That topped with there are not a lot of anglers living in places where sheefish do live. It seems they like they live a solitary existence.

Looking at their home water existence they can be found from the Kuskokwim River, North to the Kobuk and in almost every drainage in between. The Yup’ik and Inupiat of Alaska as well as some Athabascan people call these fish “shees” and thus in Alaska the common name is sheefish. However, in other parts of the circumpolar north, this species is commonly called Inconnu (unknown fish) because early explorers, upon seeing this fish for the first time, did not know what they were.

Regardless Sheefish can be found in great numbers around the waters of Alaskan Adventures Lodge on the Holitna river which is a drainage of the Kuskakwim River. Sheefish typically are some of the first fish to make their presence known after ice out. We typically can catch sheefish before any of the Pike turn on. Usually this early in the season we are catching sheefish on spoons or soft plastic swimbaits. It’s rare that real early in the season have we ever seen sheefish break the surface of the water to chase smolt or bait.

By the time mid-June and into July is when we usually really see the big schools breaking the surface as they fly out of the water chasing smolt. It’s not uncommon to see up to two dozen fish flying out of the water at the same time as you look down the run. During June and July, this is really a common practice all over the river system. We typically find the schools of fish when they are rolling and fish them. In the past, we have done really well with small swim baits and flies fished on a heavy sink tip.

Being successful in fishing is a construct of paying attention to what is happening in the water with fish and attempting to replicate that to achieve some sort of success. For example, when a fish is caught it is brought back to the lodge and when cleaning it for dinner, we open the stomach contents to see what it’s been eating and then attempt to replicate that until we have keyed into greater success. In the past one of the things, we have seen a lot of in the stomachs of Sheefish are baby Lamprey. From there we have and continue to perfect the fly imitating a baby lamprey. What we have created over the years has gotten better and better.

On another note, we have often dreamt and talked about catching sheefish on topwater. For those that know what a sheefish is this conversation has often come up around the campfire however it was never attempted… until this year.  When attempting to “figure” a fishery out most your attempts come from deductive reasoning based on what has worked and what hasn’t worked. Most of our deductive reasoning AND minor attempts made us shy away from any attempt at topwater. As guides our job is to put people on fish so often experimenting with new techniques is not usually a standard practice. Hey, we want you to put fish in the boat so basically, we have always done what works well and experimenting is for free time. Free time is rare.

One night after dinner guides Sam and Scott decided to “experiment”. So, they ventured from the lodge looking for rolling fish. Sam had tied some deer hair poppers to try out. It seemed as if the stars aligned, and Scott and Sam were in heaven. What was only dreamt about was happening. Sheefish were clobbering the topwater fly. Absolutely blowing up on it and I don’t mean one or two strikes here and there. I mean fish after fish were blowing up on is and literally destroying the fly. What was a pipe dream was coming to reality.

After that, we started to really target sheefish on topwater with clients and for the first time, I was able to witness complete adults turn into little kids in the candy store. Sheefish on topwater is not an everyday occurrence however in June and July when it does happen it’s truly magical. Adding to this magic are all the other species one can find at the lodge. Alaska is an amazing place filled with endless adventures you truly need to

Pike fishing on the Holitna River is some of the best that Alaska has to offer. Or at least I have been told many times by guests. The waters around Alaskan Adventures lodge on the Holitna River consist of a wide variety of environments. From landlocked lakes to oxbow lakes that are connected to the river system to fishing the slack water on the main river. If someone wanted to just pike fish, they could easily fish different water every day and have great success. 

Our favorite time of the year to fish for pike is early summer or the month of June. It’s during this time that the water from Spring runoff is on the drop however it is usually still up pretty high. High enough that all of our oxbow lakes are full and have warmer water than the main river. It seems that with the warmer water in the oxbow lakes has encouraged the pike to really put on the feed bag. Maybe the warm water has turned up the metabolism of these fish but whatever it is this is when they get really aggressive. When I say aggressive, I mean they will actually fight each other for feed. 

Although we will fish with gear our favorite way to target pike is on the fly especially during the early season. BIG poppers on the fly is by far in my opinion where it’s at. When I say big poppers, I mean 12-16” is just big enough. If you can tie and cast bigger than please do. Big fish like big food! 

Often when fishing we like to make a delicate cast as not to spook the fish that might be close by. With pike that is far from the truth. Making a big splash or even slapping the fly onto the water’s surface as hard as you can is as if you are ringing the dinner bell. Often, we have seen big pike laying up under the brush and with a delicate cast, they seem to just ignore it or pay some interest but not quite as much interest as if we were to slap the water hard with the fly. It’s as if when we slap the water hard it really triggers them to come to the fly in a hurry with a fierce aggressive posture. If they don’t grab it on the slap, they usually grab it on the hard strip, and then it’s game on. The best a fisherman can do is to make as much commotion as possible and hang on. 

Although steel leaders are a great way to keep fish from biting your fly off, they do have a disadvantage. When a hard-fighting pike decides to do a gator roll the steel wire can wrap around them and cut slices into the fish. We have found using 60lb mono or bigger will help eliminate this as the diameter is larger than wire and mono is softer. Sure, you might lose one or two fish but at the end of the day, there is less damage to the fish that are caught. Generally speaking, all of our pike are released to fight another day. 

So, whether you’re a gear fisherman or a fly fisherman we can get you on some really unbelievable topwater action. It truly is amazing to see a 9” plug completely disappear into the jowls of a large predatory fish. Then to bring a 40-50”fish to the boat is a blast that most can only dream of. So, come see what dreams are made of.