River Rhythms

There is something magical, soothing, unknown and comfortable about water, especially the water from the world’s rivers.  Rivers that have spent thousands of years carving their way through the landscape, a zig here, a zag there.  I was fortunate enough to make a connection with water early in my years as both a swimmer and traveler, so I am saddened by all those that are weighed down by their aquaphobia.  I have just returned to the lower 48 from the last frontier – Alaska.  Three of our days were spent drifting down the Kasilof and Russian Rivers fishing for king salmon in our Willie Boat.  

With our guide on the oars and anchor, we played a strategic game of location and movement down the river each morning.

Each morning began with a 3:20 a.m. wake up call, a quiet car ride for 40 minutes, to the boat launch by 4:30 a.m., in the water by 4:40 a.m. drifting down the river, anticipation of the unknown before us.

  

The sun has breached the horizon but the dense tundra owning the sides of the rivers will not expose the sun’s rays for another couple of hours.  Man, it is cold in this boat.  But it is quiet, except for a bird or when the river’s most powerful places churn up a symphony of sound as water passes over rock.  But the sound is quickly gone and you are back to the solitude of your row boat.  And you wait, wait for something to happen, wait for the sun to warm your body, wait to spring up and battle these legendary creatures.  But you are also surprised, surprised by the knowledge and kindness of your river guide who knows exactly when to speak to motivate and occupy by the boat, knows when to let silence reign, and most importantly he knows how to maneuver his boat into the prime spots with what I will later determine is the best possible gear for catching these fish and teaches the technique for setting the hook and getting them in the boat.  Which also explains why our best salmon fishing was on our first day as we had a different guide the other two days, if you need a guide for the Kenai Peninsula, Laine is your man. 

And he is a great storyteller, a storyteller-hunter, fishing in the summer, all-manner of hunting in the winter.  This is his profession; he is a hunting guide, outfitter that goes deep into frozen Alaska, at times for 2-3 weeks at a stretch for hunts.  And never talking about the conquest with a puffed up chest, but speaking plainly, reverence for the environment and the animal.  This is not the only hunting story I was told during my time in Alaska, at least 5 other people randomly shared their hunting stories.  And it is the stories that explain a significant factor that determines the societal, cultural practices of this part of the world: a ceaseless winter is always at the forefront of your mind and planning.  All these hunting stories ended exactly the same, "I was able to freeze 150 pounds of bear meat, 90 pounds of elk meat, and 110 pounds of halibut for the winter."  Winter is always coming up here, frigid cold, tons of snow, and while I loved the 19 hours of sunlight I just experienced, I know there is the reverse six months away, 19 hours of darkness.

But back to the river, all manner of bird dotting its shore or lording over us high above in an eagle’s nest.  And we float.  And the movement of the water carries away your stress, your judgment and lets you just be in the moment for a moment.  It also gave me patience.  While I have been on and in water for most of my life, I entered this anew.  Often in the past, when fishing got slow or I was just ready to get off the boat, I would be sullen and moody and bored.  Over these three days this only happened once and I forgive myself because it came in the last 20 minutes of fishing after two straight days of catching one fish total each day.  No, I spent a great deal of my time enjoying a moment, an ever-changing moment of drifting down a majestic river painted aqua green by the glacial silt.  Floating through trees and mud banks and jumping fish and people fly-fishing from the shore.  The rhythms of the river calmed my mind and invigorated my body and imagination.  Expensive therapy, but worth every penny.