Alaska Dream Maker
Editor’s Note: This is the introduction and the first in a series of articles in which the author will return to Alaska with his grandsons. Check back here every Friday to follow Joe Byers and his family on their 2021 Alaska adventure.
By: Joe Byers
The Last Frontier is still the land of grand adventure, spectacular landscape majestic animals and fishing beyond belief.
Alaska changed my life. Without a doubt, 1963 was a boy-to-man summer, thanks to the experiences encountered on a four-month 8,000-mile journey from the Mid-Atlantic States to the wilds of Alaska. Traveling with my grandparents in a small truck camper, we explored, hunted, fished, photographed, and inhaled intoxicating amounts of wilderness. I left home a typical high school, myopic sophomore, self-centered, semi-book smart kid who loved sports and the outdoors, yet had little experience beyond his local back yard. Like a young soldier from foreign service, I returned a more mature individual thanks to the challenges, ordeals, and overall travel experiences.
In 2006, Jesse Willems, my grandson turned 16, and I yearned to retrace my steps. I wondered how Alaska had changed, and would an abbreviated sojourn have a similar positive impact on the young lad? Could we still travel the road system without a set itinerary and come away with a wilderness experience? Right now I’m preparing to take three grandsons along the same route in an RV. I’ll be blogging about that trip here on the Global Outdoors Blog. A trip to Alaska can change a person’s life and I urge you to share my adventures.
Do It All in 10 Days?
The 1963 adventure lasted four months and was the retirement dream of my grandfather, Joseph Hoffman of Williamsport. In 2006, Jesse was about to enter a new high school, which created a tight time constraint. Alaska is so big and diverse that seeing it all in less than a month is nearly impossible. I considered taking a tour, but I relished the flexibility of my first experience. With no set agenda, we could stay or go as we pleased.
After much consideration, I believed the Kenai Peninsula held the most opportunity for Jesse to sample the heart of Alaska. We could fish in fresh and salt water, hike and explore mountain trails, trail ride on horseback, sea kayak, and do all these amongst the backdrop of majestic mountains, glaciers, and abundant wildlife.
We arrived in Anchorage by plane in mid afternoon, rented a car, and headed down the highway toward Seward. Despite Alaska’s immense size, its road system is the smallest in the USA. The entire Kenai Peninsula has one major north/south highway and a couple of side roads, so getting lost is rarely a problem.
The Portage glacier is about an hour’s drive from Anchorage, and I was anxious for Jesse to see the enormous chunks of ice close up. To my surprise, we found only a glacial pool with one small berg, barely bigger than a Texas ice cube. Obviously, Alaska had felt the effects of climate change. This was the first of several changes since 1963, yet surprisingly, much remained the same.
Fishing How To, Where To
Seward was the destination for the first fishing adventure for Jesse and me. Seward is home to a special foot race to the top of the local mountain. Runners were practicing in mid-summer on my first visit, and I discovered that the tradition remains, with more prizes than ever.
Jesse and I booked a salmon and halibut combo out of the harbor. Captain Smiley of the Gladiator taught the basics of “mooching” for salmon and then Jesse and I were quickly after our first fish. Jackpot! Jesse hooked up and quickly retrieved a 3-pound flounder, not large by Alaskan standards, yet enough to put a broad smile on his face. My granddad had always been lucky in the outdoors and, perhaps the mantle of ’63 would pass again. Unfortunately, I caught the first limit of salmon, bright silver 15 pounders that put up a fantastic fight. Later, I boated a 20-pound halibut, but Jesse caught just one other fish; the captain cut it for bait.
The next day we fished the Russian River with Wild Alaska Outfitters. I caught three big Coho (red) salmon and released others. Jesse’s only fish showed a nasty bear bite and had to be released. Two days of high adventure proved exhilarating, but I worried about Jesse’s spirits. Fishing loses its luster when everyone catches fish but you.
Day three found us near Soldotna with Captain Joe, where we fished for pink and sliver salmon species. Finally, Jesse seemed to find his rhythm and landed four big fish in a row. Suddenly, life was good, and the youngster gushed with excitement and enthusiasm.
Making Alaska Click
As a sixteen-year-old, I had no idea what a 35 mm single lens reflex camera was in ‘63. Prior to that trip, my grandfather purchased a Zeiss Icon, and I developed a love of photography that is as strong today as in those magical days of youth.
In keeping with the times, Jesse used his cell phone camera and often captured images that he sent back home. I invested in Nikon’s latest D200 and a 75-200 lens which proved unbelievably valuable when photographing wildlife.
For the ultimate adventure, we wanted to capture a picture of a real wild bear and heard that the Russian Falls was a good spot to see bears eating salmon. The falls are a two-mile hike, which gave us a chance to stretch our legs. Interestingly, we had only gone 100 yards along the trail when we met a park ranger carrying a rifle. His shift was over, and he said that bears should not be a problem. (Which is why he carried a rifle, right?)
Half a mile further, we encountered a group of young people sharing images on a cell phone. One man had stalked close enough to a feeding bear to capture an image, and his friends were talking excitedly about the adventure.
Arriving at the falls, a hundred or more salmon were schooled at the base before their eventual journey through the roaring rapids. The falls had a bear viewing deck, which made observation easy and relatively safe. Jesse and I took turns trying to shoot a salmon jumping the falls. In fact, I turned the Nikon over to him, and he quickly dialed through the menus exploring the options of the camera in ways that terrified me. However, using my grandfather’s camera prompted a great interest in my life, and I was eager to pass the digital baton. No bears appeared, so we hiked on, where we met two men with backpacks scouting for the hunting season. They quickly pointed out two huge black bears feeding on a distant mountain.
Cod, Kayaks, and Halibut
Homer was home to our final adventures. Jesse and I spent the afternoon sea kayaking, an experience I had always wanted to try, and one I knew Jesse would enjoy. After a quick ferry ride to Tutka Bay Lodge, we spent a couple of hours exploring the island, marveling at the elements of the rain forest, avoiding the spiny devil’s club, and collecting blue berries.
Our guide, Theresa, greeted us and gave us a brief lesson in gear and technique. Jesse and I posed for a picture in our skirts, and then we headed down to the sea in our ships, sort of. I decided to take the camera, a prospect that made me nervous, but Theresa assured me that we would not tip over.
Kayaking is a team sport, and Jesse, and I quickly got our rhythm and had a grand time. Aside from cruising around islands and over reefs, our guide plucked a variety of sea stars from the water, and we ended with a close-up visit with a sea otter.
Since our bear viewing trip had been a bust, we booked a combination cod and halibut excursion with Captain Steve and his 1st mate. Although we never saw the sun, the wind laid down, and our captain set sail for outwards bound. “I haven’t been in this spot since I was eight years old,” he told us, as we let our one-pound jigs hit the bottom.
To describe the next six hours would take a book, maybe a DVD. Jesse caught two giant ling cod weighing 50 and 55 pounds. Over the course of the charter, we caught a full limit of cod, yellow-eye rock fish, and halibut. We not only caught fish, but huge specimens. “Our largest halibut is only about 50 pounds because we didn’t have time to concentrate on big fish,” said the captain. In my opinion, tugging up multiple fish over 30 pounds is still “kicking butt” as the Alaskan like to say.
Retro-retrospect
We had reserved charters and activities for half the trip, which provided flexibility to reflect and just have fun. With our newly learned fishing skills and tackle, we stopped at the Diamond M Ranch on the way back to Anchorage and caught salmon on our own. Finally after releasing his last fish, Jesse said, “I think I’ve caught enough.”
Compacting four months of my ’63 adventure into 10 days was a near-impossibility, and I’m not sure of the adventure’s impact on Jesse. However, we have the rest of our lives to re-live the great times we spent together
Alaska on Your Own
Putting a 16 and a 60-year-old in the same car for 10 days might not seem like the definition of harmony. Luckily, Jesse is a great kid, and we really had fun being in each other’s company. Despite one of the wettest summers on record, we had a blast and quickly made our own sunshine. I learned that the Kenai has even more adventure than I imagined. You might find “combat” fishing if you cast where everyone else does, but if you walk half a mile from the crowds, you’ll find open waters teaming with fish. In addition, Alaskans are quick to share great adventure. We found several places with great fishing, simply by being friendly, and successful anglers never hesitated to reveal a popular fly or technique. Accommodations were surprisingly affordable, even in mid August. Several times we stayed in cabins or rooms for $100 per night, sometimes with fishing right out back.
A love and respect for nature is one of the greatest gifts we can pass onto future generations. There is no better time than adolescence and no better place than Alaska.
Have you done something interesting outdoors? Join Global Outdoors and write a review to tell everyone about it! We’re building the home for trusted reviews of outdoor experiences, outfitters, and guides. Help us out and you’ll be entered to win free trips!
