You would think going 
separate ways once returning to Anchorage would be a given when you have spent 4 months with people you did not know prior to arriving in Alaska, right? Well, that was not the case. Me, along with my good friends, Thomas and Lowell rented a cabin in an area surrounded by numerous small streams. All of which feed a larger river drainage system. It was the last week of September and the crowds were gone, the temps were bearable, and at times, warm enough to sweat underneath your waders. The mornings were cold, and the days turned to warm, eventually giving in to cool evenings. We were on the hunt for rainbow trout and maybe a late silver salmon that has not yet met it's end. We stopped in at a fly shop along the way and asked for some local knowledge. The man gladly told us some spots to try and even told us what flies we should purchase. Imagine that? So without question we purchased our selected flies and headed on down 
the road. Lowell had fished the area before and already knew of some good spots, but we took menatl notes anyway on the advice given. We had a week to explore and were just thrilled to be done with the season, to reflect upon the good, the bad, and the ugly. There was lots of water to cover over a week so we half-heartedly mapped out a daily plan. This trip was about us; no schedule, no clients, no boss, no BS. We fished our happy little brains out, catching trout (Lowell caught a silver salmon or two) and feeling free. A friendly competition of the biggest trout caught kept things interesting
and after the first day, yours truly was leading the way with a beautiful, 20 inch leopard rainbow (pitcured below). However, Thomas would end up with the biggest trout. A trout that would measure 22 inches. Our evenings included trash talking, added with beer drinking and stories of the day. We shared techniques and tactics used to lure in hungry trout. The three of us visted local eateries and watering holes in the closest town; the town of Talkeetna. We even caught the sounds of a live band one night. It was labeled the last party of the season for the locals. The fishing was good and the experience was even better. I love The Last Frontier, that is Alaska.
separate ways once returning to Anchorage would be a given when you have spent 4 months with people you did not know prior to arriving in Alaska, right? Well, that was not the case. Me, along with my good friends, Thomas and Lowell rented a cabin in an area surrounded by numerous small streams. All of which feed a larger river drainage system. It was the last week of September and the crowds were gone, the temps were bearable, and at times, warm enough to sweat underneath your waders. The mornings were cold, and the days turned to warm, eventually giving in to cool evenings. We were on the hunt for rainbow trout and maybe a late silver salmon that has not yet met it's end. We stopped in at a fly shop along the way and asked for some local knowledge. The man gladly told us some spots to try and even told us what flies we should purchase. Imagine that? So without question we purchased our selected flies and headed on down the road. Lowell had fished the area before and already knew of some good spots, but we took menatl notes anyway on the advice given. We had a week to explore and were just thrilled to be done with the season, to reflect upon the good, the bad, and the ugly. There was lots of water to cover over a week so we half-heartedly mapped out a daily plan. This trip was about us; no schedule, no clients, no boss, no BS. We fished our happy little brains out, catching trout (Lowell caught a silver salmon or two) and feeling free. A friendly competition of the biggest trout caught kept things interesting
and after the first day, yours truly was leading the way with a beautiful, 20 inch leopard rainbow (pitcured below). However, Thomas would end up with the biggest trout. A trout that would measure 22 inches. Our evenings included trash talking, added with beer drinking and stories of the day. We shared techniques and tactics used to lure in hungry trout. The three of us visted local eateries and watering holes in the closest town; the town of Talkeetna. We even caught the sounds of a live band one night. It was labeled the last party of the season for the locals. The fishing was good and the experience was even better. I love The Last Frontier, that is Alaska.
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