Out and about

We’ve all had outdoor seasons which stand out in our memories as special. Perhaps you made that once-in-a-lifetime hunt or a close friend or relative visited and you went on a memorable fishing trip one summer. Whatever the circumstances, these special memories remain with us for the rest of our lives.

One of my special seasons occurred in 1998. It started with king salmon and carried right on through moose season. I received a phone call one day from Ron Wilson, of Ron’s Riverboat Service at Susitna Landing, asking if I wanted to go king fishing with him and Marilyn, his wife, the next evening.

He had checked his guiding schedule and found some free time. Marilyn enjoyed fishing and Ron could not fish while guiding clients. They were taking a “busman’s holiday” and I was invited to tag along. Naturally, I accepted.

I met them at the landing after supper and we boated to a secret hole known only to about half of all Susitna Drainage king anglers. Surprisingly, no one else was there.

Ron nosed the bow of his boat up on the bank and set the anchor. We all started casting Mag Warts. As I recall, Ron hooked up after only ten minutes and I netted his fish. I hooked into a 32-pound king about fifteen minutes later while fishing off the bank.

Ron returned the favor and netted my fish. We both then started coaching Marilyn, who was fishing off the back of the boat. She patiently put up with our suggestions, understanding that “guy thing” about offering advice.

A king struck Marilyn’s lure and, after an initial fight, made a run toward the main river channel. She held on. The fish must have been huge because Marilyn could not turn or stop its run. The reel’s drag was as tight as we dared set it and even then, the salmon seemed to swim effortlessly away.

As Marilyn struggled to hold on to the fishing rod, suddenly the heavy-test line went slack.

The hooks on the lure had straightened out and pulled free. The large fish swam off. Marilyn was tired but thrilled to have had the fight of her fishing life. We called it quits and headed home, having enjoyed a great evening of fishing.

Later that summer, I received an invitation to go fishing with Aaron Benjamin, whose company, Talkeetna River Adventures, operated the Talkeetna River boat launch.

Aaron had worked as a fishing guide for over a decade before starting his campground and boat launch business and knew how and where to catch kings on the Talkeetna.

We started fishing at 6 AM near the mouth of Clear Creek. On his third cast, Aaron hooked into a 35-pound king. By 6:10 AM, Aaron’s daily bag limit was filled. Now he concentrated on getting me a fish.

The condensed version is that no matter where we went or what I tried, I couldn’t seem to buy a bite. We fished several places along the Talkeetna and spent time up and down Clear Creek. I just couldn’t feel the light bites of these fish.

A king striking a Mag Wart leaves nothing to speculation about having a fish on. Bouncing a bead and red hook along the bottom and setting the hook when the line stops moving was a difficult technique for me to master.

About 2 PM, Aaron had reached his “can’t-take-it-anymore” frustration level and I was feeling pathetic. We were a short distance up Clear Creek and decided we would fish our way down to Aaron’s boat and head home. Aaron went ahead of me carrying his landing net and I drifted my lure through likely looking holes.

A hundred yards or so from the mouth, I stopped to fish under a cut bank across from the gravel bar I stood on. The line drifted in the current and suddenly stopped. I yanked back on the rod and thought I had hooked the bottom. The water exploded and the king took off.

Aaron heard the commotion and my yell of “fish on.” He took a position downstream from the action with his landing net. His stance reminded me of a hockey goalie during a power play. He told me later there was no way he would let me loose that fish.

After a couple of runs, I started backing up and Aaron closed in. As I pulled the 28-pounder onto the gravel bar, Aaron covered it with his net. We both felt relieved.