Gone Fishing

A friend, Margo, and I were treated to a personal fishing lesson from fellow coastie, Josh. Josh hails from Washington State and is an avid outdoorsman. Early this Saturday morning, Margo picked me up, and we headed straight for the sporting goods store. I bought a fishing pole, lures, and learned to tie knots with the sales staff while Margo picked out some boots.

Josh met us there and led us to the Buskin River. He loaned us some waders belonging to his out of town roommates, and we descended into the riparian area. The silvers are running; and the rain is washing away the decaying pinks that the line the riverbed and banks. I still need to master my casting technique, but I did snag two rocks and a dead pink. So: at least I caught something.

I did not get stuck, nor did I get wet; so, I view this first foray as a success: regardless of how empty is my freezer.

Did I mention it poured the whole time? Ugh. Recreation in Kodiak. To thank Margo for her recent house-sitting while I went to Anchorage- and for Josh's superb patience in answering the most asinine questions- I treated them both to lunch at Java Flats. On our way there, we pulled over and saw my bear: the same guy from a few weeks ago. He was in the middle of the stream, and not but a 200 yards away were fishermen, casting in the mouth of the Sargent River.

And no, I did not have my camera. I did not pack it in my coat as I was certain I would fall in the river. I was warm and dry while viewing the bear from Margo's truck, but I was disappointed that I could not catch him on film.