So this is late, I have a good excuse though, I was at my Grandma’s house where there is no unprotected internet floating around. Anyway here are some thanks:

Thanks to AP for almost four great years, enumerable lessons, inspiring me to skate, and insisting I leave

Thanks to MJK for the birthday beer

Thanks to SS for inspiring me to love nature again, and going fishing with me

Thanks to CS for reminding me that even though life can suck, it gets better

Thanks to JS for the love, support, strength, and mental slaps when I needed them

Thanks to JM for the shoulder to cry on and the lessons that comes from experience

Thanks to Mom and Dad for springing me from Juneau once in a while

Thanks to LH for yelling at me when I smelled bad and putting up with my out of tune guitar and crappy singing

Thanks to Jr. for the music, the art and the bullshit

Thanks to NS for organizing things into little categories like chickadees, eagles and ptarmigan

Thanks to RE for reminding me that I am one of the luckiest people on Earth

Thanks to RW for being strong and inspiring

Thanks to TK for showing me how to be a leader

Thanks to NS for listening to me complain, and making me look at the bright side

Thanks to JM for not playing the same song twice

Thanks to GM for the advice and for being great to my friend

Thanks to AF for not taking me too seriously, and letting me pet the dog

Thanks to LB for having my back

Thanks to LM for bringing the beer with Mr. Plow

Thanks to CS for the sanity, and for showing me everyone is crazy and scared

Thanks to CC for working hard

Thanks to JAHA for hockey

Thanks to the fish, thanks to the mountains, and thanks to nature

Tonight I was reminded of how lucky I am. I have spent 4 of the last five summers waking up next to a river every day. 22 Years on this Earth and I have seen the glory of mountains almost every day. Each time I drive home, they are bathed in a different light, a different set of rules govern them. Each day I wake up next to a river, it is a little different than the day before.

Each time I drive from Anchorage home to Eagle River I crane my head and look up, want to see how my mountains have changed, what they look like today. I’ve done that drive thousands of times and I still never get bored on that stretch of highway. Every river I cross, every lake I pass by, every mountain I see, I look, I look for fish, I look for birds, I look for moose and bears and wolves. I look for life emanating in all of its glory from a place yet untamed. I look for routes to the top, lines to ski, places to explore, places to sit and glass for moose, places to ride a bike. I look just to understand the layout of the land, the way things look, how what I see relates to the map. I see where the water flows, where the streams meet, where it all happens. I see it all, I feel nature around me. When I drive home, I notice my mountains in the distance first. Pioneer Peak, Twin Peaks, Bear Mountain, Baldy, Hiland, Mile High, this is my home, this is where I belong. These mountains catch the snow, which forms the glaciers, which produce the big rivers, to which the creeks flow and the salmon spawn, and the trout grow large, and the terns eat, and the bears roam, and the plants grow, giving the moose browse and the ptarmigan hiding spots. I am lucky because I see all this every day in my life.

I am lucky I spent a summer in a tent by the ocean, living by the tides and the wind. Harvesting the fish from the sea. Living with people who love it, loving the world with others. None of us can ever take these things for granted, none of us should stop fighting for these places. On that beach I could dig down deep and see oil, see the wrath of man. We should never forget, that to be one with the sea, one with the mountain, or one with the lake we must sacrifice, and if we don’t we will never truly live. We will never suck the marrow from life. When I come to die, I will have lived a great life, even if fate should strike me down tomorrow. So go out there and live, do what you love, be with who you love, so that tomorrow if you should die, you will have truly lived.

Thanks for reminding me that I’m alive Rhea.

Click Here to Watch Her Awesome Movie!

I remember the first day I liked girls, its so clear in my head. I was nine and we were making a dam in a sandbox with a hose (I always loved breaching the dam because then the salmon would be free), and there on the swing set was my friend, who happened to be a gross girl with cooties, but suddenly she wasn’t, suddenly I was in love. Puppy love for sure, I mean I was nine, but I remember that feeling.

When I was young I loved fishing, I don’t quite remember catching my first fish, just snap shots of the culvert here in Juneau, near twin lakes, the body of water I typically catch my first fish of the season. I remember seeing porpoises playing out in the middle of the cove at auke rec, where I caught two dollies. I remember I was 4, I only remember that because that was the year I had a lot of different birthday parties. I don’t know what I used or how we did it, I don’t know how my parents even knew how to help me catch fish, but I caught a little salmon or something, and a few dollies, and watched the dolphins play. I wish there was a picture of that fish, or something else I could remember, its all just snapshots of images I don’t even remember the fish, just casting. My mind looks at myself though, I don’t remember what I saw with my eyes, I just see a little blond kid with a zebco standing by a culvert fishing. Maybe I was using a spinner.

My next memory of fishing comes from a stocked lake about an hour and a half south of my childhood home, it was kids fishing day, and I watched the scared rainbows swim in circles wondering if they should eat the bait or not. I eventually did catch one and we brought it home and I had to clean it, and it was gross. I think without fish guts I would not be a catch and release angler today, or even a fly fisherman at all, but we’ll get to that. Anyway fish guts are gross. I remember the cruising lake trout one spring, the time I lost my beloved zebco, I remember the epic pink run, I remember the fire station hole, the cut bank up the creek, the little dam by the bridge, the wet feet and the devils club.

I wish I could go back and see all these things again. I remember so many situations that now seem like they could lead to epic days on the water. I never have seen those cruising lake trout again, the pink run never got as far as it did upstream as that one summer, and the fire station hole is only a few inches deep anymore. I often wonder if the creeks changed or if I changed, I know I grew bigger, I know that what once seemed huge now seems teeny, but the trout as my metric, an eight inch char out of a 3 foot wide stream is a good fish anywhere in the world, and I seemed to know that back then.

Honestly I don’t remember why I fished at all, maybe its just what we did, I mean my parents didn’t really ever fish, I’m not sure either of them has had a fishing license in ten years. My best friend though, his dad loves fishing, and he loved us kids, and took us all over the place. We would sit on the dock and dunk worms, then he built a great big canoe and we’d go around in the canoe trolling, the fish weren’t big or particularly handsome, or really any of the qualities I look for in a fish now, but being on that lake with the mountains and the geese and the sunset without a care in the world was as good as it ever will get. I’m sure he felt the same way; I bet we made him feel young again. I hope so.

I find myself awake tonight pondering life, going over the choices I have made, and the choices that were made for me. I wonder about my future, I wonder if love is worth it. I wonder if I can afford to throw my heart out there, even though its bound to get broken. I wonder if I can be happy to be alone. I scheme, I make plans, I make excuses for why I shouldn’t try, I try to figure out why I should. I worry about life, I worry about school, I worry about my next meal.

I want to feel that feeling again though, no cares no worries, just me and the mountains and the sky, and maybe someone who is young at heart to show me that I need to be happy catching the small fish. To show me that when I was nine I knew all I really needed to know about life. I have much more knowledge now of how the world works, why fish bite, where the big ones live, but I have no more knowledge of what makes me happy and what I want. I want to hold hands with that girl on the swing set, and I want to tear down the dams so the salmon can be free.

It snowed last night, I went to bed at 2am after a long night of carving fish onto mugs after spending 4 hours at the bar when I meant to stop in and pickup some food and leave. I got home on the slippery roads pulled past her new guys truck in the driveway, in the bed was a nice salmon net, one with knots, the mark of a bait fisherman around here. I couldn’t sleep, I sat there thinking about the new guy in the bed that was once half mine, I’m out of options, I can’t ignore it I can’t run, all I can do is live. Last night living was hard, this morning living was easier, and tomorrow it might be even easier. I’m moving out on the 18th of December and never going back to that place. I’m never gonna have to see the baitfisher/sledneck mobile out front again, I’m never gonna have to run into them on their way out as I’m pulling in. I won’t have to think about my faults, about my weaknesses, and her weaknesses and her faults. I’ll be able to remember her for what she was and not what she is now.

Yea I’m running from my problems but what else can I do? I’m stuck here, I have 2 classes left and some research to do to finish my degree then I can leave this town and I never have to come back unless I want to. Until then I’m stuck. Five weeks left, I can’t believe I made it this far quite frankly. I can’t believe how hard this is, I can’t believe everyone has to go through this and comes out alive. Thank god for TV on the internet, youtube and depressing music, without it I would never sleep. At least she waited till I was out of field camp, otherwise I might have gone off the rocker, packed some food and some bugnets and disappeared to the lake for months. I still might go off the rocker, every day I don’t go apeshit and start hurting things is a new win, a small victory.

God I wish there were fish to catch, I wish the light was returning, I wish the snow was melting instead of falling. Only five months till steelhead, they can’t show up soon enough.

Winter is coming, I can feel it, I know it because the sun is down at 3:40, and I mean down, it just gets dark. The air is cold, getting colder, it feels cold too because of the water, every drop of moisture in the air squeezes the warmth out of you when you walk places. I feel like curling up in a blanket by a wood stove, reading a good book, drinking some hot chocolate and schnapps and petting the dog. I of course don’t have a dog, a good blanket, a book that I have time to read that isn’t about chemistry, geology or biology, let alone a wood stove. So I’ll have to settle for sitting in my florescent light lit dorm room, drinking cheap beer, tying flies I probably won’t use, and basking in the glow of the computer. I want a cozy cabin, with a good dog, a good woman, a good stove a good pile of wood to burn, a trap line to run, water to haul, flies to tie, and dreams to dream.

Each morning I wake up and wonder what the hell I’m doing, living here in Juneau, where I am stuck, where I can’t just run away from my problems. I keep telling myself I’m working for my future, I know I am, I’m so close to being done with school, to being free to do whatever I want. I’m so close to not having responsibilities and obligations to anyone, not even myself. It feels good to get close, I remember the feeling in high school, I remember enjoying each day, because I knew this was as good as it got, no responsibilities, being surrounded by good friends every day. I wish I could enjoy this last year like that. My good friends are now spread across the country like they are salmon in the ocean, maybe they will make it home some day, maybe. If we are all salmon wandering through life on the great gyre in the pacific, avoiding nets, avoiding predators, do we meet again in the end? I think we will, I think I’ll die and rot with my brothers and sisters around me, and if I’m lucky and cunning when I’m dead and gone I’ll have passed the torch of nourishment to a new generation to fulfill the needs of others. The streams, the forests, the bears, the gulls and the people will get fulfilled by the bodies of salmon, who give up their lives to nourish their offspring. One day I’ll do the same, until then I want to live in the woods and sit by a fire.

Wow a fishing report, I bet you thought this would be all some dude whining about how lonely he is and how there are no fish for like 9 months. Well guess what you are wrong, I went fishing today, with a woman. Yea I’m a loser, yea I might think there are times that fishing is better than sex, and yea I want to find a woman who feels the same way. I haven’t talked to this one about it yet, if I had to venture a guess I’d say she would feel the differently, but then again she’s never caught a 15 pound steelhead or had a 25 inch rainbow take a dry fly. Here’s to hoping today might have helped change that. She’s stoked on the romance of fishing, like the process, she talks about some guide in Mona Lake that her family did a trip with who talked for a day without letting anyone touch the rods, that’s probably the best way to break in new folks, teach them some stuff. Of course I’ve guided folks who have gone to classes (by Orvis) and wow, they had a hard time believing that you could get away with 3x with a size 14 fly and a size 8 fly. But anyway, we had a good day, saw an eagle catch a salmon (I’ve never seen that before!) saw a bunch of really old cohos, I even saw one epically large cutty. I’m going back tomorrow with the tube. The fishing consisted of practice casting with my trout rod, of course I didn’t expect to see a bunch of salmon so I didn’t bring anything for them, its November for gods sake. She did ok for her 4th day out, fishing in the wind on lakes without backcast space is really hard. We mostly just hung out and talked or I watched her cast, she apologized for not letting me fish (her rod, line and reel were probably older than me, and that made casting tough)

but really I’ve caught enough fish, I’d rather just watch someone learning and remember what it was like when I was learning. The days in the t shirt in the little rubber raft, looking for risers, casting anything that had red on it (it had to have red), the day I realized how to double haul (nobody told me I just figured it out like a bird learning to fly), biking to the little culvert and finding wild rainbows that would eat anything. I loved those days, the thing I like about this woman is I see that in her, I see the joy that comes with trying to learn this amazing skill that becomes an art, and becomes a way of life. I can go anywhere in the world with a fly rod and have something to do. I’m not sure if she saw the fire in my eyes, the passion for the rivers and the fish, I’m not sure if I have that passion anymore, maybe I’ve lost it, but going fishing with her today helped me want to be like that, like a child again. Next time I see her, I’ll have to thank her for the fire, I hope she brings out the best in me, someone like that is worth a lot. No matter what happens, today was a good day and I’ll hopefully never forget it.

Today I ordered a new fly rod blank, a beulah 5/6 switch rod to be exact for all you gear freaks. Its gonna look pretty, and if its anything like the other beulahs I’ve casted its gonna be sweet. It’ll be nice to have a project, a new distraction, winter is coming very soon I can feel it, so I need a distraction. I also have a fiberglass Fenwick to restore, I was left my Grandfather’s Fenwick and I still love it, I’m just not about to bring it out where it can get beat to crap, yea I know grandpa is probably looking down and yelling at me to fish the shit out of it but I’ve got plenty of other rods, and this one I picked up at a gear swap for $20 is the same model and I won’t worry about breaking it on a king or something. The funny thing about fly rods is that you get attached to them, I don’t know why, they are just graphite or fiberglass, they can be bragging points, or tools, or treats, or connections to the past, or hope for the future, or reminders of a friend or a way to forget. Fly rods are special for sure, and when I’m done wrapping this one I’ll be happy because I’ll have a new friend and new reminder that life is a good idea because there is always something to look forward too.

So tomorrow I’m actually going fishing, I’m locked into it, I’ve made plans and can’t break them.  Yea the plans involve a girl, but no I didn’t even ask her, I think she’s either into me or pretending she’s into me to get free fly fishing lessons from an experienced guide (that’s what I told her I was anyway).  At any rate I’m guessing we catch nothing, the fishing this time of year sucks, unless you are in a part of Southeast Alaska other than Juneau, where there are fall steelhead and the cutts stay in the rivers all year.  Hopefully they are stacked up in lakes feeding voraciously getting fat for winter, that’s the theory anyway.  Last time I fished this late I caught a 4 inch dolly and a 5 inch cutt.  I suppose I should be more excited, there’s someone to get me motivated to get out there and have some fun, to get out there and do the thing I profess to love so much.  I just lost hope for the season I suppose, I lost hope this fall, maybe I’m jaded maybe I’ve had experiences that were so good I forgot to stop and smell the roses, or take the time to dredge lakes for small fish.  By February I’ll be kicking myself for not fishing now I’m sure.  Maybe this year I’ll catch a soft water fish every month of the year, if I get one tomorrow I’ll have April-November, I know I can get a fish in December, I’m pretty sure I can in January unless it gets super cold.  February and March are the tough ones, maybe I’ll just chuck a big streamer to the bottom and hope to catch a sculpin or a flounder, do flounder count?

So I’m going fishing tomorrow, with a girl I just met, with a girl that though the odds are against me I can see a future with.  I’m going fishing for fish that I probably won’t catch, that may or may not be there, but who knows I might catch a fish, or better yet she might, I hope she does, shit worse that happens is we go to the stocker pond and catch little kings in the wind, I bet she’d be stoked to catch a salmon.  I sure as shit am excited when I catch the first landlocked salmon every spring, even when they are 4 inches long, a fish is a fish.  I hope so, I feel the pressure, I need to produce fish for this woman, one thing I love is helping someone catching their first fly caught fish, I’ve helped 3 folks do it, and another their first fish ever (though it was a bluegill on a worm).  That kid went on to start tying flies and he’s probably caught way more brown trout than me.  I think I helped him tie his first fly too, so tomorrow I have the chance to hook someone even more on my passion, and maybe on me.  More often than not the fish doesn’t take so I’m not expecting much, but I am gonna tie flies all night tonight just in case.