Back in the Saddle

Now that I've totally alienated my readership* by taking yet another prolonged hiatus, I figured it's well past time to get back on the blogging horse and provide some sort of update.  Things are starting to crank back up in Southcentral and it's already late May so I'll gloss past our epic snow year and stick to the fishing.

As I mentioned in my last post, this year was all about fishing--even in the dead of winter.  To that end, Sam and I kicked things off with some very early season fishing.

We turned down a powder day for this?

We both had hall passes from our familial obligations and met up with a bunch of friends the night before that had rented a house outside of town to catch a concert.  Suffice it to say that I can only pretend to party like I'm still 20 . . . and standing in 32-degrees water when it's snowing is a great hangover cure . . . even if the fish aren't cooperative.

* * *

Our first day out with the drift boat came sometime in April, and was a success.**  Grandma Jan was up visiting Mason and, once again, set the bar.  We ultimately tied into three fish that cold day, which was spectacular given the conditions and the short amount of time we were on the water, but only got one fish to the boat.

Jan, working on her grip-and-grin.

The Wife, taking advantage of Mason napping.

The Wife and I have been trying to think of a name for the drift boat.  Given the fact that Jan was about the only person on the entire river to catch a fish that day, and the success my mom had out of the boat last year when she came up to visit Mason, we might need to think about this developing trend as we consider our options.

* * *

Moving ahead in the calendar, not long ago I found myself down south a ways for work and had the opportunity to get out for the day.  It was classic Alaskana.  At various points we saw snow, rain and hail--and I still managed to get a mild sunburn.  We dodged humpbacks on the way out, chased steelhead in very skinny water all day, then had to evade a grizzly family on the way back.

Always fish the undercut bank.

* * *

The last real development is that I'm committing myself to spey casting for the next month or so.  I have a longer switch rod that I'll be using with the hopes of focusing on slightly different water than I usually fish.  It's early season, so you never know.

I've also been hitting the vise a fair amount this past week and tying up various tube flies, so we'll see how that turns out.  It's all new to me, but I came across this post and figured I'd give it a whirl.

Meet Mr. and Mrs. Sculpin.  The cones are separate from the rest of the fly.

* * *

So there you have it.  Now let's see, what got left out . . .

Well, for one thing, Mason now crawls and can't stay away from The Pooch's water bowl, which is constant entertainment--for Mason, at least.  I'm pretty sure he looked at me and said "dad" yesterday, but since he's only nine months old it was probably a coincidence. After all, "dad" sounds awfully similar to every other sound he makes.

I have a new job as of last week, which promises to be a significant upgrade as far as actually getting shit done.

And finally, The Blog is undergoing a bit of a revision.  Nothing formal, but if all things go according to plan you should notice a subtle change in content.  Although I take care not to specify where I fish, I'm a bit tired of providing the local fishing report so it's time to shake things up.  Stay tuned.
______________________

* Hi Mom.

** Hell, every day in the drift boat is a success--I could float circles in a mud puddle day after day and not get bored.

Paternity Leave

It's been a hectic few weeks around here, which really should come as no surprise given recent developments.  My fishing still outpaces my blogging--but not by much.  And both have taken a back seat to home and work obligations.  I've logged a handful of days on the water over the past couple weeks, but I'm significantly behind last year's pace.

With my family in town over the past couple weeks to visit the little munchkin we all managed a quick roadtrip and scored a few days on the river.  Although I generally hate "look at all the big fish I caught" posts, the fishing was on and the pictures are piling up.

Sometimes the side channels are more productive.

One of many cookie cutter Dollies.

Sockeye!

It doesn't get much better than watching Dad tied into a good one.

Here's your ad placement.

Rainbows are starting to move up.

One of the better Dolly Varden.

Underrated.

As a new grandmother, it took quite a bit of convincing to get my mom to leave Mason and go fishing, even for just a few hours.  But for the brief time she held a fly rod, she put on one hell of a clinic.

Sockeye!

About the time she realized it was a really big fish.

Toad!

How you doing?

The release.

Karta is not a small dog.

At a safe distance.

High sticking the switch rod.

A new Fishing Partner

I've never been much of a planner.  Back when The Wife and I were just married, my inability to consider "the future" was a regular annoyance--and the source of nearly any squabble we ever had.  It was, and sometimes still is, inconceivable to her that I could be so utterly unconcerned with the details to come.  One illustration of this is in our approach to kids:

The Wife: "When do you want to start trying to have kids?"

Me: "I don't know.  Someday."

The Wife: "I think in a few years, once we finish school and have decent jobs, it'd be nice to start trying.  Don't you?"

My: "I don't know.  I always figured I'd just wake up someday ready to be a father."

Needless to say, my nonchalant attitude toward such life-altering events didn't always go over so well.  However, in my defense, it's not that I don't care about what might be, it's that I'd rather focus on the big picture and take the details as they come.  Kids?  Yes.  When?  Details, shmetails.

So, true to form, about nine months ago I woke up ready to be a dad and, because I have an incredibly understanding and patient wife, a week ago today The Wife gave birth to our loving son.

Mason, our new fishing partner.

While I could wax poetic about the miracle of birth and how amazing it is to be a father, which it most certainly is, I'm most excited about all the fun adventures and life experiences we have yet to see.

So, without a moment to spare, The Wife and I took advantage of yesterday's nice weather and took our little munchkin out for his first fishing trip.

The Wife and Mason.

Grandma Jan, aunt Ash and cousin Grace also came along for the ride.  With Mason only six days old and Grace celebrating her six-month birthday, we were quite the sight on the river.

Drift boat or nursery?

Karta usually sticks by whoever is catching the most . . .

My first rainbow on the new Winston BIIIx and Bauer MacKenzie CFX.

Bringing in a nice Dolly.

Grace, showing her excitement for the fish.

Black bears always seem small compared to their brown kin.

One thing about taking kiddos out in the boat is that you can't just pack up and head home if things aren't going too well.  Sure, you can push on down the river, but once you launch you're committed through to the pull-out.  However, the calm, rocking motion of the boat and lapping sounds of the river helped Mason snooze through most of the trip and Grace seemed happy to spend her day laughing at the funny looking guy on the oars.

This day wasn't as much about fishing as it was about being on the river with family.  Of course, that doesn't mean we didn't catch a few nice fish.

Grandma Jan, roped into a lunker on her first day fly fishing.

Mr. Mason too busy snoozing to be disturbed.

A nice Dolly and Karta with the assist.

A successful catch and release.

And here's to many more adventures with Mason!

A few highlights from the Fourth

We all caught fish, but we all had to work for it.  Just the river's way of keeping us honest, I suppose.

Karta, making the end of the swing a bit of a challenge.

Who says you can't send it with a thingamabobber and split shot?

The Wife, doing what she does.

Sam, getting it done.

Falkor, the luckdragon.

Week 35.

Oh, and Alaskans must be getting soft.  I expected severe crowds all weekend, but after rain Friday night and Saturday morning scared everyone off we had our pick from the entire campground.  Weak sauce.

Testing out the new net

It's always fun to throw back the suds and go on a fly tying bender, if however brief, which is exactly what Sam and I did Sunday afternoon.  After the prior day's flexible rod sampling, my fly selection was looking a bit thin and in need of some attention.  Of course, once my fly box is full, I'm compelled to go lose a few flies--and thus a vicious cycle is born.

The fact that I had just bought a new giant-sized net pushed us over the edge so The Wife and I set out Monday for a rare weekday fishing excursion.  The lack of crowds was a welcome change, although those 20ish inch fish don't look so big any more:

We caught a handful of fish but the highlight of the day came when, while seated at the oars approaching a bend in the river, I hooked into a nice fish and fully confirmed that I cannot, in fact, play and land a fish while rowing the boat and containing the puppy dog.  Karta had a grand time through it all.

Better get a bigger net

I've been on a wicked dry spell recently.  I landed a nice rainbow back in April not long after ice out, but since then it's been goose eggs and gutter balls.  I spent two days chasing steelhead in Southeast--skunked.  A couple trips up north for early rainbow--nothing but short strikes and mosquito bites.  A couple trips south--casting practice.  I've caught fish in the salt, including a nice Chinook this past week, but I might as well have left my fly rod at home for the past several river trips.  It's a good thing it's not just about catching fish...

...or so I keep telling myself.

The Wife and I met up with one of my coworkers, Jason, and got the drift boat out for just its second voyage yesterday.  We didn't catch tons of fish, but it was a great day to work on your tan line and for me to remind myself what it's like to land a fish.

Of course, The Wife (looking very pregnant these days) set the pace by catching this guy right away:

Me getting in on the action, and keeping the rod tip up:

Jason caught the first really nice fish of the day:

At least someone (Karta) was keeping an eye on the line and indicator:

We each got into a handful of fish throughout the day, but the real action came later on.  While in the middle of saying how nondescript the river looked in this stretch, a nice fish slammed my dead drifting FMF and immediately started jumping up river.  She jumped five or six times before charging straight at me.  Me, gaining the upper hand and delusional enough to think the fish might fit in the net:

No longer thinking the fish will fit in the net:

Toad!

Things were a little chaotic for a bit.  I needed three or four tries to get enough of the fish in the net to remove the hook, and at one point the net started swimming off with the fish still half in.  We never managed a full-fish picture since I wasn't willing to prolong the release after my landing debauchery, but it was a hell of a time and she swam off without delay.  I'm not sure where this ranks against other rainbow I've caught, but it's up there.  Oh, and needless to say, I've already up-sized my net.