Stephen Snarky's Alaska Travel Blog

Kasilof River - Dipnetting

2007-07-15T22:44:00.000-07:00

Dipnet (dip' - net) v. An Alaskan sport (hee hee) of fishing (hee hee) in which the "dipnetter" stands nipple-deep in cold ocean water for hours at a time, holding a 5' diameter net against the current in the hopes that a salmon happens to swim into it. (etymology: from French "dipnette", meaning "to torture stupid people". Made popular by the Marquis de Sade)

- from Snarky's Alaskan Dictionary, to be published as soon as I consume enough beer

Yeah, somehow I got talked into dipnetting this weekend. Now, if you just called it "camping on the sand" it would be different, but about every other year I go "dipnetting" and it takes about 24 months to forget the pain enough to go there again. But, I'm finally home from this year's trip...sunburned, sore, exhausted. I finally got all the sand out of every...oh, no, there's some....

Back now. So...dipnetting. There are a few places in the state where Alaska residents can attempt this noble feat. I'm not sure if they hold it out for Alaskans only because of the huge limit involved--25 for the head of household plus 10 more fish per member of the household--or because they think tourists couldn't be talked into this joke. We all know tourists generally aren't the smartest birds in the tree, though--evidenced by the tourism draw where they pay thousands of dollars to sit on bleachers in the dead of winter hoping to see the Northern Lights so they can...um, yeah...under the lights because conceiving a child under them is, well, special.

Fact is, you really CAN get that many fish, or so I've heard...if and only if you happen to be on the beach when the big run comes through that the commercial fishermen missed. Otherwise you're like me; twelve to fourteen hours in the water and I catch one. That does beg for the first reason; they're trying to give the people who don't have day jobs like me a way to fill their freezer with fish; those who can be there throughout the week stand a great chance.

There are good things about it even on a busy weekend; don't let my sniping fool you. The scenery is beyond incredible. When we pulled up and were setting up camp, there was a picture-perfect Mt. Redoubt on the horizon. At various times I've seen two other active Alaskan volcanoes.

It's also free camping (remember what I said earlier about the best things in Alaska actually being free?). You have to stay inside the fenced public area, which is sometimes a bit crowded (mostly when weekend warriors like me hit it) and is VERY sandy to boot. Plus...shh...sometimes my fellow Alaskans are, well, um, in a word, rude. Like, for instance, the party that kept me up last night from about 1:00 am to about 3:00 am. I didn't have the heart to ask them to pipe it down, because it seemed to be going for a good cause. See, a bunch of people had gathered around a circa-1980 Eagle trying to get it out of High Tide danger.

By the way...side note...if you're ever in Alaska and you notice there is LOTS of space to camp on the darker area of sand...don't. That's where High Tide comes to.

This particular Eagle had died right below the high tide mark the day before. Someone in a pickup had come along and dragged it 100 feet or so forward, up above the high tide mark, and left it there. Later on, someone else had apparently been talked into trying to get the Eagle out of the sandy 4x4 area of the beach, and so they'd pulled the Eagle around to where the road might be...hadn't made it, had gone back down to the original spot, below high tide.

At that point, I lost most of my sympathy for the owner of said Eagle.

Someone came later and helped the Eagle pull to the side road, which is a VERY tough sandy spot...and didn't make it. They got the Eagle back up onto the safe spot on the beach, then pulled more. They had a couple vehicles out there pulling each direction, and had apparently run out of patience...with the Eagle back under high tide line. (sigh)

Finally came said party, with high beam headlights and shouting and all, which was apparently a last-ditch attempt at pulling the Eagle back out. They failed.

I hope they had good insurance on the Eagle, but I'm betting not. High tide wasn't nice to it at all.

The rest of the time, though, our fellow campers were awesome.

Anyway...I keep hoping to get $160 worth of salmon out of dipnetting...that's what I paid for my dipnet. Most of these nets will cost between $100 and $200. If you go, take firewood and toilet paper too. Make sure you take *chest* waders, not hip waders; otherwise you'll be VERY wet.

Getting there is relatively easy. Take the highway south from Anchorage, and continue toward Homer. About ten miles past Soldotna (the place with the Dairy Queen...can't miss it!) you'll see a right turn for Kalifornsky Beach Road; turn there. Then what you're looking for is Kasilof Beach Road. You'll know the turn by the big green highway sign with an arrow that says, "Kasilof Beach Road." Sounds easy, right? Yeah, but I've seen at least one Alaskan get lost on the way.

Then again, in the words of the immortal Mr. Whitekeys, "Everytime someone does something dumb, an Alaskan does something dumber!"

And that's all I have to say on the "sport" of dipnetting.

The Russian River

2007-07-09T16:34:00.000-07:00

Ahhh, the Russian. God's country, if God is a fisherman...or fisherwoman...whatever. It's one of the most beautiful places on earth, at least the portion of the earth that I've seen, and it's only 110 miles away.

Isn't it beautiful? As I've stated in a blog previously, my landscape pictures are just...bad. I try to photograph the beautiful mountains surrounding the crystal-clear river, and all I get is a rather boring picture of trees. This picture is probably the closest I've come to actually capturing the beauty.

And there's a story behind it. I'll share it, but first, some background.

The Russian is a very unique fishing site. First, it's between ankle and hip deep through its entirety. It also runs very fast and very cold. It's crystal-clear, so you can see the salmon (who don't actually swim straight up river, by the way...they travel from hole to hole, conserving their energy somewhat).

The limit is three salmon, one of which can be a silver (leaving the rest to be reds, since to my knowledge there are no other breeds in the river). It's also catch and release for trout, which are far harder to see than the salmon, and their movement is far more erratic and interesting since they aren't swimming upstream to die. The Russian is a fly-fishing-only place; no bait allowed but then again none would help. The salmon, you see, aren't hungry. The only way to catch them is to take the fly (there are special flies mass-marketed just for this) with a weight 18" above it (gotta be at least 18" by regulation) and kinda toss it into the current ahead of the fish and let the fly float into the fish's mouth. It's a challenge. Don't expect to limit out your first trip, because not only are you contending with a fast-moving current and rocks on the bottom, plus the visual effect of the bending of the light waves, but the darn fish don't like being caught so they'll move as soon as they hear the plunk of the weight. And don't miss the mouth; if you hook into the fish anywhere else it's an illegal catch and you've gotta let it go.

So...I was catching fish with the fam. I'd caught one and tossed it onto the bank, then later went back to notice it had apparently flopped back into the river. Ah, well. I caught another and, this time, attached it to a stringer. Then was going after #3 and heard everybody yelling at me.

The Russian is loud, what with the water roar and all. I couldn't hear what they were saying.

Finally I turned around from the beautiful pool of salmon and followed Heide's pointing hand. Which led me to the first picture in the blog...my fish thief. Luckily I had my camera on me, so what I lost in fish I made up for in a killer photo...of a bear taking my fish.

Anyway...some advice for newbies. In terms of preparation, take some light tackle. I've done 4# test before,which makes it really challenging, but usually 8# is a good line. The fish are only 5-8 pounds, so that's fine. Take lots of flies with you; it's easy to lose hooks to rocks, and when you foul hook a fish it's usually easier to just yank the link and break it off than to reel in the poor fish, exhausting and probably dooming it to not making it upstream. It's smart to spend the evening before tying 18" leaders to each of the hooks, so you can use a swivel to make certain your weight is more than 18" away from your hook; otherwise it'll slide down in the current and become a $75 mistake. Get a good fishing vest or a fanny pack to take your fishing tackle with you; you'll be wading into the stream to fish and it's a pain to have to wade back when you break a line. A medium size net and some hip waders pretty much complete the ensemble. Some people take a gun along for the bears; frankly, I think that's a mistake since people who're packing bear guns are less likely to be as cautious as they should be...but hey, whatever trips your trigger. Also consider a good stringer; you can use one of the cheapo ones but it'll get old after a while; if you leave it on the bank the bears will probably get it, so having it secured to your gear in the river is a good way to do it.

If you take a lunch, have it well wrapped. Otherwise you're feeding the bears, which is not only dangerous but also illegal. Another thing that's illegal, by the way, is catching more than 3 salmon...a catch is defined as taking it out of the water and processing it to take home...that meant that the two fish I fed to the bear that day were considered part of my limit no matter whether they made it to my freezer or not.

There are two distinct areas of the Russian...the river itself and the confluence with the Kenai river. They're separated by an area called "the sanctuary" marked off by big signs. Fishing is almost always forbidden in the sanctuary...hence the name.

Fish pool in the confluence and the sanctuary throughout the day, and run upriver in the morning, for some reason. Thus, if you want to fish in the river (and I always do) plan on getting there by about 6:00 am. By 10 or 11 it'll just be stragglers, and after noon there's no point. The river is able to support a large number of people fishing without feeling crowded, which is nice. Be cautious of walking around where others are fishing, of course; even if you're doing it quietly, if the fish decide to move while you're doing it or at anytime in the future, the others will yell at you for scaring their fish away (I've had it happen).

To get there, go south on the highway from Anchorage. After a while you'll cross the Kenai (it's easy to spot; it's a huge river that's a beautiful turquoise color) and then go through a small town whose name I can never remember. Start watching; on the left you'll see a shopping mart/restaurant/cabin facility and then a Forest Service sign announcing the Russian. Parking is about $10; if you're early enough you may get a spot at Grayling...it's a parking-only area at the very end that is the closest walk to the river. It may not seem important when you're going down the river, but after a morning of slogging through the current you'll like a shorter walk with your 15-20 pounds of fish and (if you're like me) 30-40 pounds of water inside the waders. There are LOTS of stairs down to the river, too.

You can walk all the way down the river to the confluence if you wish...either in the river itself, or along the side on the boardwalk. There's where you'll find the more traditional type of combat fishing, with rows of guys and gals tossing into a silty water hoping to get lucky with a fish. You can certainly catch your limit there; I have before, but I don't like it as much as the river. Also, there's a bigger parking area right off the highway from which you can take a ferry across right to the confluence; it's not cheap though (as I recall, it was something like $10 to park and $10 for each person).

There's also camping available in about 80 different spots in the forest service campground, and I hear the other campgrounds around the area are nice. The forest service campground is $13 or $20, no hookups, and reservations are required (well in advance, by the way). Also...watch out for bears. You MUST practice good campground sanitation, or you'll be visited in an unpleasant manner. The bears won't eat you--at least, I don't think they will--but they're very interested in your beef jerky and stew and will rip your tent up to get it.

Ahhh...paradise.

Stephen...out fishing....

Girdwood Forest Fair

2007-07-07T14:32:00.000-07:00

"Leave your Dogs, Politics, and Religious Orders at home, Please."

Man, Alaskans are weird. Occasionally it's a dangerous kinda weird, but usually it's a "hey, this is cool even though I can't bring it home to Mom" thing. Having lived here since '95, I certainly already knew this, but this weekend I had a lot of fun while recalling the fact.

This weekend I went to one of Alaska's best-kept secrets. It IS a secret, too, shared by us locals, so...shhh, don't tell anyone, OK?

The Girdwood Forest Fair has apparently been happening for the better part of three decades, mostly without me, which is likely to be one of the greater reasons for its success. Girdwood, or "GirdWEED" as some people like to snipe, sits about 35 miles south of Anchorage on...well, the only highway that goes south from Anchorage...duh...and is mostly known for some residents' agricultural pursuits, a fantastic ski resort, and the best restaurant in the entire state (namely, the Double Musky--$100 a person, easily, but worth every drop). It's a really cute little Alpinesque town that serves as a destination for some and as a bedroom community for a portion of Anchorage. The highway connecting it to the largest city in Alaska used to be absolutely evil to drive in the winter--there were a couple days every year when the Girdwoodians were avalanched and staying home or stuck in Anchorage unable to get home. In the past several years they've widened and improved the road, though, so now it's merely "hazardous" in the winter.

Anyway, the Girdwood Forest Fair lives up to the maxim that most of the good things to do here in Alaska are free. There's no parking fee, so long as you park according to directions (otherwise the parking fee becomes pretty large, and payable to the local towing dude, Bob). There's also no entry fee. The truly refreshing thing about it is that it's all local. There are lots and lots of commercial booths, but they're all local artists who hand-make their stuff. The food is cool too; slightly overpriced but not overwhelmingly so (unlike the event's bigger brother, the Alaska State Fair, where everything is outrageously priced). I even found boiled peanuts, which is quite a rarity up here away from my birthplace in the South. That's the true South, as opposed to the more common Alaskan usage of the term indicating any of the other 49 states.

They also had local bands performing pretty much all day. We sat and listened for a while to a band that was pretty...well, it was awful. At least, it was bad when they tried to sing. Instrumentally they were great. Several people were enjoying the large hula hoops to the right of the stage, proving that they could rotate their hips to the beat...more or less...many less than more...but it added to the jovial atmosphere. What I never figured out was the guy to the left of stage painting to the beat. Still, it just reinforces my first statement.

Later on we caught the Photons. No, that's not a sickness; it's a band that actually is apparently from the local area (I checked, but they don't seem to have a web presence...go figure). They've been described as, "Beautiful Ultra Rare Alaskan Psychedelic Jam Band. Too cool. In the vein of the Grateful Dead." Um...yeah. Which vein? They're like the Grateful Dead playing Funk with a ukelele. Listening to them is like (here comes my blazingly powerful figurative speech) eating a Cajun-Italian dish with curry-habanero sauce. And enjoying it. I'm not a food critic, so I guess I probably could enjoy that dish if it were good. And this was, kinda...the music, not the dish. I'm not a music critic either, so I don't feel bad saying the music sort of grows on you.

What better way to enjoy (ish...) a fine (ish...) musical performance, though, than sitting in the crook of a mountain draw between the trees in an outdoor theater, looking up at a mountaintop and sunset? It really was great. And the people watching was phenomenal...I wasn't kidding about my first assertion. I'd come in a button up shirt and jeans, and boy was I overdressed. Eventually I put on a pullover fleece (it gets chilly after the sun goes down, even in July!) and blended in a lot better. Even then, though, I was wishing I had a toboggan cap or baseball cap or boonie hat or...something...just wanted to blend in.

Still, it was a good family concert; a little weird but not dangerous at all. Lots of people there were "kids"...which to me is anyone under 30...but there were plenty of families enjoying the music.

Overall, the Girdwood Forest Fair is well worth going to. It's a bit of a drive from Anchorage, though you can't miss it (head south, turn left at the sign that says, "To Girdwood," and then follow the signs that say, "To Parking"). It's a good family fun even that doesn't cost anything to get in, doesn't really cost anything to enjoy. Bring a backpack full of food, or some cash to enjoy the food there.

-Stephen

Bear Tooth Theatre Pub

2007-06-18T10:16:00.000-07:00

Funky spelling. Good food. Great beer.

Yeah, I know, I shouldn't pick on a place for choosing the Brit spelling of "theater." But that's really all I have to be snarky about with the Bear Tooth Theatre Pub. They latched onto a great idea some years ago and have been doing it right ever since. Which leads me to...Father's Day, yesterday. What dad wouldn't want to spend some time on Father's Day watching a good movie with the fam while eating good food and drinking good beer and not spending a lot of money?

If that sounds like a good time...and it's available pretty much every day, by the way...then the Bear Tooth is a great place. They don't advertise; they don't need to. That's why I met a guy in New Orleans last week who'd been a regular traveler to Alaska who has lunch almost every time he's in Anchorage at the Moose's Tooth but has never been to the Bear Tooth.

The Tooths are related...duh. As in, owned by the same people, in this case, which means they can both sell the same yummy microbrews. Many of their brews have pretty mundane names, like, "Raspberry Wheat" and "Barley Wine," but some are more unique, as in, "Pipeline Stout" (which is my fave, by the way) and "Arctic Apricot" (which is my other fave) and "Prince Williams Porter" (which is another fave...OK, I admit, I love them all). Honestly, they don't make any bad beer there. And for the N/A people, they make a cream soda and a rootbeer that are both incredible.

The food's good too. It's not popcorn and expensive hot dogs, for one thing. Instead, you'll find on the menu some really tasty pizza variants...you can't go wrong with the Margherita and its combination of roma tomatoes, basil, parmesan, garlic & olive oil. If one of the several dozen pizzas doesn't interest you, you can go with one of several burritos. Last night I had the bean burrito with their roasted vegetables; it cost all of six bucks and was outstanding. The fiancee had their strawberry spinach salad, which in the $4 variant was still too much for her to eat in one sitting. It was, all in all, an excellent meal.

The coolest thing is that at the Bear Tooth you can combine them. We watched TMNT, which as with most of their movies is no longer the hottest movie out. They do that, I believe, to keep the ticket prices down; it costs $3 each to watch a movie there. And while waiting in line to get into the theater, we ordered our dinner and were given a traffic cone. A few minutes into the movie, our food showed up at the table. Movie, food, and beer...all at the same time. Absolutely genius.

There are some things to watch for, of course. First of all, they only have one theater, and they try to vary the movie selection by changing every week and by having some special theme events, so make sure you call to find out when things are going to be playing. Also, they are incredibly popular with the locals, so the Friday/Saturday evening movies typically sell out. You'll want to get there at least half an hour early, closer to an hour early on popular showings. Don't order food first; instead make sure your spot is parked in line and then send someone to order the food. Also, watch where you're seated. There are two areas, the floor and the balcony. The floor area fills up quickly, because it's the only place you're allowed to have beer. The balcony is for "family" viewing, so if Dad wants to have a beer with his movie you'll want to be in the first half of the line to get onto the floor...and yes, they check ID's.

So...overall, outstanding place. You'll be missing one of the best places in Alaska if you don't spend one evening at the Bear Tooth.

For more info:
Their movie listing
Phone: 276-4200
Address: 1230 West 27th. Off of Spenard (but isn't everything good off of Spenard?)

New Orleans

2007-06-14T15:55:00.000-07:00

Absurd.

That's the Word of the Week, I suppose. It's just been...absurd. And yes, Inigo, I do keep saying that word, but I know that it means what I think it means.

First, it's absurd that I'm blogging in my "Alaska Travel Blog" about a trip to New Orleans, which is nowhere near Alaska in geography, demography, or climate...ology. Or whatever that last word needs to be for proper parallelism. But I'm here, anyway, and my friends have asked me to comment, so I'll do just that.

And then there's the fact that I haven't been able to blog much at all. Now...you have to understand, I'm staying at The Marriott. The capitalization was intended. We've been asked, "which Marriott?" because there are three hotels in town that carry brands owned by Marriott hotels, but the one my boss picked for us is The Marriott. As in, the fine brand of hotels that are super-wonderful. Remember how I ragged on the Hotel Edgewater? This hotel deserves almost none of that; the bathroom is nice, and the mattresses have been wonderful; other than the fact that the first floor still looks like a war zone it's been a nice place to stay...unless you're an Internet junkie. That part is...absurd.

We were told when we arrived that the Internet was $15 a night. We picked our jaws up off the floor gently and went on up to our Internet-less rooms, then...neither of us was willing to pay $75 for five days of online access. I popped my laptop out and promptly found a few wireless networks...almost all secured, believe it or not. However, there was a "free" wireless network by the good people at Earthlink...which actually costs $15 for three days if you're not an New Orleans resident. Ah, heck...that was cheaper than $15 a day, and I didn't want to carry my laptop to a coffee shop, so I paid it.

So, you ask, why didn't I blog then? Because that connection was horribly bad. It was constantly congested; I had to refresh screens every couple of minutes.

I was really rather pleased, then, to learn that for the conference these past couple of days, my Internet was actually paid by the association. So...it was free! Unfortunately I learned about that well after it became free, but it was still a nice surprise. I signed right up and headed up to my desk, only to get no service and not even be able to dial the 800 number for tech support. I checked with the hotel desk...turns out they needed a deposit for me to use the free service.

Huh? A deposit for free service? Yes, I was told...I could either put $50 on a credit card or $30 cash. That struck me as weird too...cash deposit was LESS than the credit deposit. Ah, well, why expect sanity? So, I went down and gave them my $30 so that I could make 800 number calls from my room and surf the Internet for free.

See what I mean about absurd?

I just got back to my room, too, after calling down to ask for regular coffee. See, being a fine, fine hotel, they have coffee pots in every room with pods of both regular and decaf coffee for brewing in the morning. But yesterday the cleaning lady had ignored the blank spot where the regular coffee had been, and she'd done the same today, so I wanted to make certain I wasn't quite as grumpy tomorrow morning. I called and asked...politely, I thought...if I could have a regular coffee pouch to brew tomorrow morning.

Silly me, asking something like that in Absurdia. I returned to my room to find a hotel laundry bag in the middle of my floor, full of coffee pods. Now I have enough coffee to brew to have it all night and almost all day tomorrow.

I have to admit, though...the trip has overall been absolutely wonderful. First, the Career Colleges Association (CCA) really knows how to throw a conference. I've learned more about running a college in the past couple days than I expected.

Then there's the other aspect of my trip...food. I've probably gained 20 pounds this week. Our first excursion into New Orleans cuisine was the Commander's Palace, an extraordinarily expensive restaurant that was worth every penny. For $36 each, we got a bloody mary and a three-course incredibly yummy brunch. It would've busted Rachel Ray's budget in a single seating, but it was nice.

Then we took my brother's suggestion and tried The Gumbo Shop, on St. Peter's. That restaurant was far, far more reasonably priced, and the food was some of the best I've had. The Creole Dinner is to die for; you get a choice of appetizer (I had a cup of gumbo...go figure), a main course (etouffee for me...I think "etouffee" is Latin for "Oh my God this tastes so great!"), a vegetable (turnip greens, which I've never found done well in Alaska, so it was worth it just for them), and dessert (which, for one of the first times ever, I left unfinished). Washed down with a few Abita (a local brewery) Turbodogs (a nice rich dark brew)...I'm almost willing to fly down here just for that food.

We also had to visit Pascal's Manale, which like the Commander's Palace is in the ritzy Garden District. There they had a guy shucking oysters and serving them on the half shell; about a dozen of those and I was ready for the special, barbecued shrimp. They're famous for it, and now I know why. I had an Abita Andygator there...well, OK, I had four or five...and was quite impressed with the whole thing.

So...yes, I'm hoping to come back to New Orleans, but mainly for the food. When you come, make sure you BYOI (Bring Your Own Internet).

Just...absurd.

Fishing in Alaska

2007-06-02T15:46:00.000-07:00

A book could be written on the topic of "Fishing in Alaska." In fact, several have...a quick search of Barnes and Noble's web site returns not one, not two, but 450 hits on the search phrase, "Fishing in Alaska." So...if you wanna read a book about Fishing in Alaska, go there. If you wanna read a few rambling comments from a guy who's more than ready to get his poles and nets out of their winter storage spot, then it's your lucky day!

First off...I don't do winter fishing. I just realized that in the previous paragraph I'd mentioned, "winter storage spot," and there are probably some people out there who wonder why I store them at all when there's so much wonderful ice fishing up here in the wintertime. Now, I'm certainly not here to insult the ice fishermen out there (though I seem destined to insult just about everyone, so hang on...). It just seems rather...pointless...to drill a great big hole in frozen water, then move a small "house" thingy over the hole you just drilled, just so you can sit there drinking beverages and catching little fish. If I wanted to eat little fish, I'd go to Safeway. If I wanted to catch them, I'd go back down South. If...no, when...I want to drink beverages, I sit on my nice already-warm couch or computer chair. Nope, I've never ever drilled a hole in any ice, nor am I likely to do so anytime soon.

Which leads me, naturally, to my all-time favorite thing to do in the summertime: fishing.

You may notice that I didn't say anything about eating fish. I'm not a big fan of it, really; I'd just as soon dive into a nice medium-rare chunk of cow, to tell the truth. I'll eat fish, but it's not my favorite, which is why my mom really likes the fact that I like to catch them.

As the summer goes on, you can probably expect a blog entry from me about every other week on how the fishing went. I'll start off, really rather soon, going after king salmon...you haven't lived till you've hooked into a 40 or 50 pound chunk of muscle that doesn't want to be pulled out of the water and tried to pull it out of the water. Yes, kings are probably the dumbest and slowest of the salmon, but they're huge and they're the earliest of the salmon to arrive.

Next come the reds, and for those my spot of choice has always been the Russian River. There's been a lot of talk this winter about what to do with the growing bear problem. There's always been black bears down there, and a grizzly has come in as well. Then there are a lot of fishermen down there, going after the fish that sometimes are bank to bank streams of red. Problem is, everybody is after the same thing. Used to be you might see a bear every so often, but year before last I saw several and last year I saw several on each trip. I fear that it's only a matter of time before a bear-human fight happens. Someone somewhere came up with the idea of painting the bears down there...I have yet to see the original source of that, but I catch a lot of Letters to the Editors about it. Seems like a perfectly normal idea for Alaskans to come up with, frankly...paint the bears to prevent problems. Mr. Whitekeys (ah, the sadness...he closed up shop last fall) used to sing that, "Every time someone does something dumb, an Alaskan does something dumber." Just ask our noble Senator Stevens about his great Internet Pipes story for proof on that one. But...I digress.

Anyway...after the reds come the silvers, and those are a lot of fun...a whole lot more fight, really. Silvers are my favorite fish to catch, except that you gotta get up really early to do so.

I'm also hoping to get at least one halibut trip this year. Most fish I'm not that fond of, but halibut is the filet mignon of fish.

So, I'll try to keep the blogs going as far as my fishing trips go. There's a whole lot to do around this state in that regard, and I'm really looking forward to this summer.

That being said, I wanted to use this blog to address a problem I had when I got here. The hardest part about fishing in this state is figuring out how to start. I remember way back in some biology class I learned there were five types of salmon in the U.S. There were the chinook, the cojo, the sockeye, the chum, and the pink. Thus, I was quite bewildered when I arrived to learn that Alaskans fish for kings, reds, silvers, dogs, and pinks. Turns out that we've come up with our own names for them, and despite Mr. Whitekey's immortal words these names actually make some sense. The chinook, for example, is the king, so named because he's the biggest (and, uh, dumbest, but we'll leave that alone). The sockeye is also known as the red, so named because once they hit fresh water they start turning a bright red; they're the reddest of the salmon, believe it or not. My favorite fighter is the silver salmon, aka coho, and he's named that mainly because...ah, well, because he's not red. The chum salmon is named dog largely because, I believe, that's the main thing it's used for...feeding sled dog teams (and lower 48 canneries, but we'll leave that alone as well). Finally there's the pink, for which Alaskans apparently couldn't come up with a better, more colloquial, name, so it's just a pink.

So, once you figure out what type of salmon you're talking about, it's time to get comfy with the fishing regs. Unlike most states, where the regs say, "You have to have a license and you can only catch five catfish a day," for example, ours are written at the Ph.D. level and are approximately the same length as a dissertation. You can find them online here: http://www.sf.adfg.state.ak.us/statewide/reghome.cfm or you can go into just about any department, sporting goods, liquor, convenience, or any other useful type of store in the late springtime and pick up a hard copy. You'll really want a hard copy, because you won't be able to remember 1/10th of the regs when you're on site (nobody has that many brain cells!) and your fellow fisherpeople will frown upon your constantly pulling out your PDA to reference.

It'll be absolutely indecipherable at first. A typical entry reads like this:
"In the Nikinikiukalik river drainage there is no fishing anytime of the year. Exceptions follow:
From 1 June to 15 June and 3 July to 5 July up to one king over 16" in length may be harvested using a single unbaited hook between the markers at mile 5.45 and 5.73 on the east bank.
From 6 June to 8 June between 9:35 am and 11:42 am each day up to three salmon, one of which may be a coho, may be harvested using a single unbaited hook between the markers at mile 9.34 and 9.66 on the north bank."
...and so on. Note that the markers usually don't exist when you do get there, or if they do then they're someplace you'd never look for them. Plus the booklet has more exceptions in it than rules...in fact, if you only fish where the rules say you can, you'll not be fishing much. Also, the entries are usually accompanied by a two-dimensional line drawing (some call it a "map" but I won't compliment it with that term) that is supposed to make it all clear, with blue lines being rivers and red lines being "don't fish here anytime" messages. And then there's the all-important entry in red on the first page declaring that the department of Fish & Game can issue these things called "Emergency Orders"...online writs that change the rules instantaneously with no warning to those on the ground.

Yes, it's impossible to figure out the rules. A direct quote from the rule book site: "There are five regulation books for Alaska in 2007." Yeah, I just bet. And it's $75 plus possibly losing your pole and already-caught fish if you don't manage to follow the rules. That's why I didn't fish here for several years.

In practice, I've learned over the years that it's really not that hard. My first and greatest advice is to find a friend who's fished here before. That's tough to do when you're first getting here, but one thing about Alaskans is that those of us who fish--who've survived our first few bouts with the Rulebook From Hell--love to brag about it. That, and we're a relatively friendly bunch as a whole; when you run into grumpy fisherpeople on the bank they're generally either from Eagle River or Montana. So sidle up to somebody who professes to know how to fish and ask for a trip. Now, realize that offering fishing trips up here is kinda like offering golf trips elsewhere. Generally the phrase, "we'll get together and go fishing sometime!" is Alaskan for, "I don't hate you enough to ignore you, so let's keep in touch when we have to." So to get through that, you'll need to offer something enticing...beer works well. If it's on a boat, then paying for the godawfully-expensive gas will work well also. Set a date, and get clear on what type of fishing you'll be doing; vague, "let's go fishing" doesn't ever turn into a real fishing trip.

Let's say you're like me, though, and never do manage to get someone to take you fishing till you know enough to have done it yourself. (maybe it was my relative geekiness, but I always blamed it on my ex-wife because she made a good target for the blame) So...where do you start?

First off, depending on your financial situation, you can always hire a buddy. That sounds kinda bad, but there are a lot of decent guide services up here. I don't have enough personal experience with salmon fishing guides to give recommendations, but every time I've had a friend hire one I've heard great stories out of it. The guides know where and how to do it, and they make their money by making certain you legally catch your limit. You can hire just a boat to take you up the river and drop you off at the key places (and the guides can put the rules into English too!) for fairly inexpensive, and then there's the fly-in guide services that're even cooler but more expensive. Still...to start out, a guide service can be wonderful, especially since guides love to talk about where all they've fished (and a smart budding fisherman will take mental notes).

Then there are the relatively famous fishing spots. In Anchoragua, for example, it's Ship Creek. Once the kings start rolling in mid-June you'll see a bunch of people out there fishing. The rules are really easy too; you generally can't use bait. Take a big pole armed with stout fishing line with a big hook and some colored yarn out there, with your waders on, and try to do what everybody else is trying to do. Talk to your fellow fisherpeople along the way, too...remember, unless they're from Eagle River or Montana they'll generally be happy to provide you with great stories.

Finally, you can do what I've done in the past. Call Fish and Game. I know it's a bit counter-intuitive, calling the bad guys, but I found that once I got someone on the line she was pretty good at putting the regs in plain English. Also, there's generally some good information on Anchorage Daily News's site (www.adn.com) regarding where the fishing is good...take that and ask Fish & Game where it is and what regs to be concerned with.

A last comment...again, counter-intuitive. In most places in the past, I've tried to fish away from other people. There's only one problem with that up here...the fish tend to be running in specific locations. Thus--and it took me a few fishing trips to figure this out, believe it or not--if you're fishing where there's nobody else, you're probably not going to be doing any catching. There's a reason there's nobody else in your pristine spot, buddy: there's no fish there either. Fish where others are, and you'll get lucky. With fish.

Nuff for now...off to get stuff done so I'll have time to fish this summer!!!

Seward and its SeaLife Center

2007-05-29T12:44:00.000-07:00

Lest you think I hate everything, allow me to state for the record that I really love the Kenai Peninsula.

Those who haven't been up here probably aren't aware of what you're missing. Drive a little bit south from Anchorage, and poof, you're there. I've tried photographing it several times; in fact, it's been those attempts that have convinced me that I'm just not the photographer I thought I was. No matter how hard I try, I always get pictures of hills, of rocks, and of trees. But the peninsula is far more than that. I don't say this next part lightly...I've visited pretty much every state in the union at one time or another, and I've driven some gorgeous roads, but nothing compares to the Kenai.

*ahem* OK, enough blathering. We went to Seward this last weekend mainly to visit the SeaLife Center (www.alaskasealife.org). It's not quite a full day's worth of touring, but if you want a nice leisurely way to get to see Alaska's sea life, it's a good choice.

They did put me off a bit at first. I had coupons from my book that were the "buy one, get one free" type. Unfortunately I hadn't read the fine print--the print that says the coupons are only good for a few weeks in the spring and another few weeks in the fall--so I had to pay full price for everyone to get in. At $15 a head it's a little steep for what's there. Granted, you're paying in part to support a conservation and wildlife rehabilitation effort, so it's a good cause...but still. In my opinion, it's overpriced, especially when "adult" means over 12, so the junior high and high school kids who are at an age to really dig it are gonna cost the highest fare.

After paying my $60 to get the four of us in, I was further unimpressed by their being out of the brochures. For that kind of money, I'd like to at least get some sort of printout with the happenings for the day. I suppose I'm just snarky that way.

On the other hand, the exhibits were great. There's a spot where you can reach into the water and touch the sea creatures. They have a stellar sea lion who does tricks when he's fed, and harbor seals that make play their habit. There's also a bird habitat that is enjoyable to enter. Be sure to listen for the presentation announcements; while we were there we enjoyed a short (20 minutes) "live bird" exhibit (they brought a young puffin out and we got to watch it poop...and they talked about its habitat and habits...even the ones unrelated to poop) and one that was an Alaskan version of the "An Inconvenient Truth" video. Yes, I ran out of there ready to change all my light bulbs (if you don't get the reference, go watch the video and imagine what it would be like in a state known for its glaciers).

The salmon exhibit was...well, dull. They had two huge tanks of young salmon doing what salmon do. You know. You do know what they do, right? They sit in the water and wiggle their tails. After a few minutes, you're sure to be underwhelmed by it all. Luckily the other exhibits--and there are a bunch--have far more action.

Overall, it was a good trip. The food bar was overpriced but not incredibly so; a hot dog was only a few bucks. The restrooms were a bit tough to find. They had elevators for easy handicapped access too.

All in all, I'm glad we went.

Oh...I gotta tell you about one place we found on the way out. On fourth street, I believe, is a place called "Sweet Darlings"...gelato and taffy and other delectables. The ice cream--technically, gelato--was divine. It's well worth the stop.

Later!

Hotel Edgewater - Seward

2007-05-28T14:11:00.001-07:00

I'm grumpy today.

There are some who would say that's the norm for me. Once Santa brought me a ceramic mug with my visage...or a dwarf's, I'm not sure...on it and the title, "Grumpy" written under it. Most of those present laughed, while some pointed out that was in my good periods. Someone (I believe it was my loving mother) said that in the morning I more often earn a title which is unprintable here (but it rhymes with "trucking glasspole"). Ah, well, at least I'm known for something.

So, I probably shouldn't write a blog about a trip while I'm grumpy, except that in this case the Hotel Edgewater is a major part of the reason I'm grumpy. They earned it, you see.

I'd stayed in Seward before, a few times. The Breeze Inn Motel I'd found fairly nice, though that's a story for a different blog. Now, who wouldn't choose the fancy-sounding "Hotel Edgewater" over some motel, eh? Their website (www.hoteledgewater.com) proclaims that they're "Oceans beyond Ordinary" and their over-$200-per-night price tag seems to back that up. So I gathered up my coupon and made reservations.

First, their 72-hour cancellation requirement is a bit ridiculous. I can see billing someone for the first night if they call that day and bow out. But is 72 hours notice really needed, especially in a hot tourist town like Seward?

I was, though, really looking forward to the jacuzzi. Unfortunately they have only one small tub for the entire hotel, and it's only open for a few hours a day. Bummer.

Then there was the bed, which was really just a vertical extension of the floor. Yes, I do know that a mattress and a floor are two different hardnesses. So are diamond and quartz...but they both hurt if I rap my head with 'em. In this case, "firm" is quite the understatement when describing the mattresses. I don't usually have problems on the typical range of mattresses, but I woke up after just a few hours' sleep with horrible hip and back pain.

The reason I only got a few hours' sleep? The bar across the street. The hotel has "view" rooms and normal rooms, and the "view" rooms are called that because they look out across the water. The normal rooms, on the other hand, either look inward at a fairly attractive hotel foyer (must admit, they did that right) or outward toward the mountains...which honestly is a better "view" for me anyway. Plus the "view" rooms are even more expensive...of course, I chose the normal rooms.

They really should rename the "view" rooms to "don't have to lay there and listen to a loud bar right across the street till sometime early in the morning" rooms.

Ah, well...we rose, painfully and grumpily, and marched downstairs to the continental breakfast. This was so minimal that I went back to the front desk and asked if I had the right spot. I've come to expect decent hotels to have continental breakfasts that include a decent assortment of fruit and pastries...but not there. There was one type of pastry, a cinnamon roll that had obviously just come out of its mass-produced package and needed a small amount of nuking to make edible. Then there were the little bitty apples and oranges, and just a few of each. It was...very Motel 6. Don't get me wrong...it was free, and it was food, and it wasn't terrible. But it was what I'd expect from a $99 per night room up here, rather than a place with a premier name and premier pricing.

If all that hadn't been irking me, I'd've probably just laughed off the key snafu...but no, it irked me further. The fam and I went down the street to visit the Seward SeaLife Center, which is an awesome day visit and the topic for another blog. Upon returning, I was surprised to see that my key card didn't make the blinky light on my door turn green any more. I went downstairs, smiling as much as possible, and after waiting in line asked the clerk behind the counter. He informed me there was no Snarky in that room, which caused my eyebrows to raise a hair. I informed him that yes, sir, indeed I'd stayed there the night before and was paid up to stay there that night as well. He went and checked some other computer, and then swiped the key card in the security thingy to charge it again. Apparently he'd found Truth in the other computer, though he never did explain anything to me, nor did he even seem to consider my journey to maybe have been an inconvenience to me. Ah, well, I marched back upstairs to the blissfulness of my itty bitty room.

Oh, and I haven't Snarked on the room layout yet, have I? The only sink/mirror in the room was wedged into a spot so narrow that I had to be careful combing my hair; I knocked my elbow against the wall more than once. The bathroom was narrow as well; spread your knees out any on the toilet and one leg was in the tub. One light switch turned both the lights and the very noisy fan on. Again...nothing out of the ordinary in a Motel 6, but c'mon, this is supposed to be a luxury accommodation here.

At least the hotel had basic cable coming into the itty bitty 19" TV. This was nice, because they'd thought to include a VCR but no DVD player. We rented movies for the second night and called down to the front desk...they didn't even have one on premises. Geez. The hotel had free Wi-Fi, though. Free is important, since it kept cutting out so much that I'd've never paid for it.

Checkout wasn't too bad; we just handed over the key cards. The gal asked how everything was, and in the interests of getting out of there I just asked her about the overnight bar music serenade. She just smiled and nodded; apparently that's a regular feature. Oh, goody.

The insult added to our injury was the Bed & Breakfast (Seward Waterfront Lodging) right behind the hotel with the big sign in the window advertising $99 per night rates...and a full breakfast. Next time, I'll check them out.

Till next time....

2007-05-26T18:00:00.001-07:00

I've done a lot of travel here in this beautiful 49th State. I've built up a lot of pictures and stories and memories along the way. Finally, I've been convinced to create my own travel blog; something to help others see what I've seen...the good, the bad, and all too frequently, the ugly.

I'm actually writing this first post from a hotel room now, and it's one of the latter ones. More of that later. In the meantime...what can you expect to read here? I tend to travel around the state a lot during the summer, and occasionally during the winter. I'll post along the way, sharing my thoughts with you, the gentle readers.

Hopefully in doing so I can help you avoid the crap I've stepped in.

Here are some specifics of what you'll be able to expect:

Lodging: I stay in hotels fairly frequently, since I like my creature comforts. I also sometimes stay in B&B's, and have been learning along the way that I should really do that more often. See, often hotels up here are owned by people who really don't ever come to the property, and so the quality is often something less than what you might expect for what you're paying. There've been some notable exceptions, of course.

Cruises: Sorry, don't do 'em. At least, I don't do Alaska cruises. The boats I board here are fishing boats, which are on the other extreme of the boatspectrum from cruise liners. I figure that if I'm gonna spend the money on a cruise, I wanna debark standing on the deck dressed one level above underwear with a happy cold drink in my hand, not shivering with a beer pointing at big chunks of ice.

Sporting: OK, I should've said fishing. I don't have time to get into hunting...I'm busy in my RL job, so my enjoyment time is limited. Fishing is awesome, so I'll spend a lot of time blogging on that. I'll even, probably, *gasp* share some of my secret spots.

Entertainment: Lots of entertainment up here, including tours and shows and various other things. Since I live in Anchorage, there's lots to do right there. But I also tend to get bored a lot and travel to stuff, so I'll share that info with you. Again, just the best dirt on the good, the bad, and the...well, let's try to stick with the first..

More later...gotta get back to my Snarkytrip!