Photo Essay By Elijah Myrick
It is not fair to call the Cessna 206 flight 100 foot off the river an airplane ride. After being packed into commercial airline flights from Austin, Texas, we were finally on our final descent to the gravel bar parallel to the gin clear river lined with starburst stones.
It rained. Those two words could stand alone read over and over again to capture the soaking endured. We came to understand that a “25 percent chance” in Alaska means it’s going to pour 25 percent of the day, plus 10 percent for character building. I set the tent up in the rain, learned to row a 75lb inflatable raft in the rain, started the morning fire in the freezing rain, laughed and swore and kicked the rocks in the rain.
It is hard to articulate the remoteness of Alaska northward of the Arctic Circle, except to describe it as a feeling instead of words: A hollow yet invigorating sense of reliance on self and fate.
I connected with 7 fish touching the 20lb mark but nothing was more exciting than watching members of our group hook up with their first fish of the trip.
The Dolly Varden we were targeting on this trip are large kype-jaw males that make their way up the river from the Chukchi Sea feeding on spawning salmon eggs. My first was plied from the river bottom on a swung Dolly Llama fly.
I am not sure if our pilot was doing us a favor by clearing the campsite of grizzlies our just giving us a preview of the Dolly Varden we’d be chasing all week. Either way, I was on that perfect edge of elation and terror as I looked back and stole a glimpse of my Pops who was happier than I’ve seen him in decades. The reason for our 3,000 mile journey was now as clear as the Alaskan water.
At full gallop, the boar Grizzly straight-line charged towards our campfire before submerging into the water’s depths after spawning Chum Salmon. The bear fed for a while before giving us a final inspection and disappearing within an outfielders one-hop.
The evening before our designated pickup I pulled the oars for the final time as my Pop helped pull us ashore.
Much of the food we brought was left in Kotzebue because we didn’t need it with daily shore lunches such as these.
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