Time really flies by when you get busy! Finally posting the 4th chapter of my fishing stories. They have been fun to write and even more fun to remember. I get a little homesick for Alaska as I think of the many experiences I had as a teenager in Homer.
In the summer of 1985, we decided to take a couple days and go fishing around Sheep Creek. Sheep Creek is one of the rivers that feed the Kachemak Bay. The mouth of the river is about 30 miles from downtown Homer. We could drive about 20+ miles of it but then it was all wilderness after that. We didn't have any ATV's or horses so we contacted Lynn Tietjen, a good friend of ours who lived on the East End Rd which led the direction we were going.
Lynn was dating my older sister, Melinda, at the time. He was a great guy who like us, loved the outdoors. He and his family had some horses and he agreed to make the trip with us.
I was pretty excited as I hadn't been horseback riding much. This would be my first real ride. When we got to Lynn's house on a Friday morning, Lynn already had the horses gathered and fed for the trip. We went to the barn and fetched the saddles. Lynn then assigned us our horses. He told me I would be riding the "paint" horse. He was a gelding and was very well broken in for any rider. Lynn would ride his personal horse, which was a large muscular horse. It was a beautiful bay gelding. The last horse was a white horse with few black and grey markings. He was a stud horse and Lynn said he could be a bit of a handful at times. I was happy that my Dad would be riding that one!
We began our journey and rode about 5 miles or so up and down some hills and across a couple of large wide open spaces. We eventually came to an old abandoned homestead cabin. We decided to rest the horses and have some lunch. Lynn had brought up some homemade burritos that were double wrapped in aluminum foil. He started a fire and once there were some hot embers, he dug a spot in them and placed the burritos in. Then he covered them up with the embers he had removed. In about 6 or 7 minutes we had nice hot food. Best burritos ever! :)
After lunch we climbed back into the saddles and rode the horses down to where Swift Creek enters the bay. We turned the horses up the coastline towards the Fox River and Sheep Creek drainage. I remember seeing a bunch of old abandoned fishing boats along the coast. Many, we supposed, were probably taken by the seas and later washed up to shore. Some of them were obviously once owned by some of the many Russian natives that still live in much of Alaska today.
The horses were riding pretty well. Dad's stud was having his moments though. Once he sat down like a stubborn mule with Dad still on his back. Lynn tried all sorts of things to entice the animal back to it's feet. I honestly don't think any of his antics worked but the horse did eventually stand back up and we were on our way again.
At the head of the bay the landscape opened up with fewer trees and some grazing land. There was some cattle here and there but they paid us little notice. After a short while we came to the Fox River and Lynn told us we would need to cross it. There was a lot of water in the river at that time and I wasn't sure of the situation. Lynn gave us specific instructions on how to handle the horses in the water so that they could manage the river bottom with their hooves. He said he would go first and that the other horses would be more apt to follow once he was on his way.
I was surprised that the horses did just that. We followed him without hesitation. We were quite surprised at the depth of the river. I felt like the horse was swimming more than walking along the river bottom. I felt the cold water enter my boots and soak through my pants. Good thing it was fairly warm out that day, or we might not have ever dried out. It took a few full minutes to finally reach the bank on the other side. Dad and I both cheered as neither of us had ever rode across a river before.
After the river crossing we came to Sheep Creek. We followed it upstream for a few miles. The brush had become very thick and some of the overhanging tree limbs almost knocked me out of the saddle. I'm sure the horses were bothered as well but they continued to trudge through. After a couple more hours we finally came to a nice clearing that would be good for the tents so we made camp.
The area was beautiful and the Fox River and the Sheep Creek were flowing nearby on opposite sides of us. There were some large leafy trees where we tied up the horses to graze. We removed the saddles and let them cool off. Their backs were lathered in a sweaty foam!
We ate a quick dinner and decided that we still had a few hours of sunlight so we would start fishing. (One of the great things about an Alaskan summer!) We were hoping that the Sockeye salmon run was happening so we rigged our rods accordingly. We waded out into the Fox River and tried a number of techniques but to no avail. No salmon that we could tell. We caught one or two other fish, mostly small Dolly Varden, but nothing else.
We decided to call it a night and we would see if there would be better luck in the morning. I slept like a baby listening to the river flow and the howling wolves and the occasional snapping of branches as a moose or deer walked nearby. I just loved being in nature.
The next morning we arose and quickly ate breakfast. We had some good conversation and I mostly enjoyed Lynn describe his time in England as a missionary. He told a story of how he was sitting around the table with a family and when they offered him more food he exclaimed, "No thanks, I'm stuffed." He said this caused a great laughter among the family and he was confused. They then told him that in England, when you say you are stuffed it means you are pregnant!" That was awesome!
After breakfast we gathered our fishing gear once again and headed to the river. It was the same as the previous day. Not many fish. I began to walk along the bank downriver from where Lynn and Dad were fishing. I came to a little stream that was feeding into the river. The water was slow moving and very clear. I saw something large move in the shallows. I looked closely and saw a fairly large Dog salmon, also known as a Chum. It was fat female that looked like it was at the end of it's life. I decided to try and catch it and show Dad. I knew he wouldn't like the salmon, cause he had said they weren't as tasty, but perhaps we could find some use for the eggs that it was getting ready to lay.
I took my fishing pole and stretched it slowly out over where the fish was setting. I dropped my small spin-n-glo down about 3 feet in front of its head. I let the water drift it slowly down until it was almost directly in front of the fish. The fish frightened me a little when it went from a very docile state to a flash of power and speed as it gulped up my hook. The fight did not last long. The salmon had obviously used it's energy getting to this part of the river and had nothing left to save itself.
I hoisted the fish up and checked the underside for eggs. I squeezed the body slightly and sure enough a bunch of little orange eggs appeared. I hurried back upstream and showed my Dad what I had caught. Sure enough he was not impressed with the salmon, but when I showed him the eggs, I could see the twinkle in his I and knew he was pleased.
We killed the fish and then slit open the belly, careful preserve as many eggs as possible. We then began to take the eggs and position them in clusters on our hooks. We walked out into the river and cast them out hoping that our luck would change. And it did. In a big way. Let's just say we lost count as to how many fish we caught off of those eggs. But we fished until every egg was gone. We didn't catch any salmon, but we caught a lot of large Dolly Varden. The little ones were each over 4 pounds! Some of the bigger ones were 6-8 pounds. It was a blast!
The fishing lasted for hours until we were finally to hungry and tired to continue. We ate something, packed up, and headed for home. Completely satisfied with our triumph.
The ride home was much like the ride in. The river crossing was smooth and we were much more confident riding across. We decided to take a slightly different route once we hit Swift Creek. We climbed up the hill further and rode ac
ross the plateau above. We were able to let the horses speed to a full gallop. The wind against my face felt wonderful and I could smell the sweat from my horse as well as the grass and the salty air. I closed my eyes and felt the rhythm of the gallop. It was an amazing sensation.
We eventually arrived at a little ranch and we could see some people outside working with their own horses. Lynn obviously knew them and we rode directly onto their property. They greeted us and we told them about our little trip. They were very nice and brought us some drinks. We couldn't stay long so we finished our drinks and said our good byes. We began to ride along the outside of their fence when Dad's stud started to get all excited about something. I thought he was going to buck Dad right off the saddle. The stud jumped forward and then raised its head. He quickly lowered it and shook it back and forth. I thought he was crazed. Then we noticed what the commotion was about.
Racing from the other side of the corral was a big brown mare and she seemed to want to get to know Dad's horse. The stud was frustrated as the fence was blocking his access to her. She turned and backed herself up to the fence and to my surprise the stud lifted his front legs over the fence and onto her haunches. Dad was barely hanging on and I could tell he was more than a little nervous. Lynn tried to grab Dad's reigns and lead the stud away but the stud was not interested in going anywhere.
Luckily the owners of the mare saw what was happening and had ran down to help. They took the mare's harness and pulled her forward away from the stud. Before the stud lost her underneath him, he lifted himself back over the fence and onto the ground. He reared back a few more times and snorted heavily. The mare fought as well but with less force and soon was taken into a small barn. It took a little longer to calm the stud down, but eventually he did and Dad was able to control him. We wasted no time hurrying away from the location of the mare and getting to Lynn's home.
All in all it was another great trip with my Dad. Fishing is something that we loved to do together. Today we still enjoy it and try to go together often. Idaho fishing is awesome but there was some magic during my time in Alaska that will live with me forever.
The first game would prove us wrong on both assumptions. We played the team from Vallivue, which is over near Caldwell. They came to town sporting uniforms that resembled the Los Angeles Dodgers of Major League Baseball. And in my opinion, they played like the Dodgers too. That was disappointing because that was my favorite Major League team.
After a long first half of that inning we finally got them all out. I remember my first at bat and I swung the bat three times and sat down. I don’t even know what I was swinging at. The ball went from pitcher to catcher so fast that I could have closed my eyes while swinging and had just as good of chance to connect with the ball. My embarrassment didn't last however because, luckily, my entire team had the same offensive prowess as I did and we lost the game 17 – 2. Our two runs were gimmies in the final inning so I don’t really even count them.
Ted and I both finished the game 5 for 5. I had two triples, a double and two singles. After laying a 22-1 whipping on Vallivue for the championship I was co-MVP trophy with my friend, Ted. I think Ted should've had it outright because I don’t think we would have done what we did had Ted not laid that bunt down early.
