Where: The beach, Cedar River
When: The last few weekends
Conditions: variable
Flies used: Clousers, Pat's Rubberlegs, Shock & Awe
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat, Resident Silvers, Trout, Suckers

Song of the day: "Numb," Linkin Park

Haven't been doing much lately, at least in terms of catching.

I didn't think the AK thing would have burnt me out as much, but I guess it did.

Despite my lazy attitude of late, I managed to force myself outside over these past few weekends, doing a few things here and there.

Like catching suckers in the Cedar.

And fighting these guys off for hours while looking for some residents and cutthroat.

Even spent a morning dinking around with a few of my spey setups (and a single hand Skagit line on the rod in the foreground).

And, to my shock, found a few cutthroat dinkers on a beach that's normally devoid of fish this time of year. Let's just say it was one of those "fish while you have the chance" situations. :)

As you can see, there's really been nothing to write home about--I've found myself daydreaming about a return trip to AK and, of course, the upcoming pink salmon season.

In an effort to stem my jonesing, though, I'll once again be headed out to the beaches this holiday weekend. Let's hope the trip produces something big or plentiful enough to shake the cobwebs away...

Where: The beaches, but not our beaches
When: Last Friday, Saturday and Sunday
Conditions: Overcast, muggy, sometimes windy
Flies used: Clousers, Shock & Awes, chum babies, Bjorn's Stinger Prawn
Species pursued: Sea-run dolly varden; king salmon (briefly)

Songs of the trip: "Take It On The Run," REO Speedwagon; "Here I Go Again," Whitesnake; "Mud On The Tires," Brad Paisley; "Pepper," Butthole Surfers; "Clubbed To Death," Rob D; "Where It's At," Beck; "Silence (Tiesto Mix)," Delerium, featuring Sarah McLachlan

After a couple of years of staying local, the itch to do something different had finally won out.

It was an easy choice, actually. Affordable air fare, a friend who knew the local fishery and having the appropriate equipment already in my possession made this trip a no-brainer.

And besides, I needed something to do for my birthday weekend!

In summary:

Alaska is beautiful.

The marauding swarms of hungry bugs are not.

The fishing is different, but not enough to prevent you from using a lot of your basic beach skills successfully. The differences are subtle and figuring them out is not so subtly rewarding. :)

There's something different to do every month during the late spring through fall--I would/will go again if I get the chance.

And now, for the photo show:

A little in-flight scenery...

...leads to a not-so-scenic landing. Oh well, I guess that's what Gore-Tex is for.

Ummm...welcome to Alaska!

The first fish of the trip--not more than 2 hours after landing!

This guy again! This time with a nice-sized dolly.

Creek fishing here is pretty good, too.

Especially if you have the right fly!

No that isn't a bear in the left background, it's a horse. We could have used it on the hike down here...

Then again, a 2.4 mile hike in waders and full gear is a small price to pay for this view...

Yup, that's a glacier!

The bugs suck--literally. But only after they give you a nasty little bite.

Now that's what I'm talking about!

One of many caught under the bridge.

The eagles like fishing under the bridge, too!

Another good dolly.

You can't deny the sculpin.

The same goes for these finned frisbees--not a bad fight on a 5 weight, though.

Man down!

No, I didn't catch it but I did get a chunk of it to take home.

Glaciers are cool--no pun intended.

No report for this week--I headed out for a morning on the Sound Saturday, but just couldn't bring myself to fight the wind.

Besides, I've been distracted by preparing for an upcoming trip I'll be taking next weekend--Alaska beaches, here I come!

Instead, I wanted to share the details of some screaming deals, a rod giveaway and, of course, free food and drink, courtesy of Puget Sound Fly Co.

This coming Saturday, June 13th, in observation of their sixth successful year, they're thanking the fly fishing community for their support by hosting this soiree and offering an incredible one-day sale on various items.

Some examples of the great buys privy to folks showing up between 10AM and 4PM include:

-ALL SIMMS FELT BOOTS: 30% off
-Ross Evolution reels: 30% off
-Ross Momentum reels: 50% off
-Sage VT2 rods 25% off
-Airflo Skagit N.W. lines 40%+ off
-Select Fishpond Items 40% off
-Patagonia 40% off
+ plenty more from: Sage, Redington, Outcast and G-Loomis
(In stock items only. Special orders do not qualify for discounts, but trust us there’s a lot of great gear and clothing on sale.)

So come out, grab some grub, talk fishing with like-minded folks and toss your name in the rod raffle hat--I guarantee you'll have a good time!

Where: The beach
When: Saturday
Conditions: Sunny, warm, windy
Flies used: Clousers
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat

Song of the day: "Who Can It Be Now?," Men At Work

The cost of a three-day weekend is double the work.

That's what I faced last week and despite my best efforts, I just couldn't muster the energy to write about my fruitless, yet relaxing, trip to a few Seattle-area beaches.

I'll do my best to catch you up:

I found a great place to stash my gear while I spent a little time in the sun...

...and snacked on these tasty little morsels.

And since fishing was slow...

Long story short, all I caught were some rays.

On the other hand, this past weekend was a different story.

While I don't mind taking a break from getting my routine fix every once in a while, it's not something I can do more than once, maybe twice a year.

Defying the weather forecast, I tossed my gear in the car on Saturday morning, determined to find a beach that wasn't blowing like crazy.

It took me a few beaches, but I finally found one.

As well as a few cutthroat.

Not bad for a sunny, windy day...

Where: The beach
When: Sunday
Conditions: Sunny, warm, light to medium wind
Flies used: Clousers
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat

Song of the day: "Freedom Isn't Free," aka "Freedom Costs A Buck o Five", Team America World Police Soundtrack

Since coho fishing seems to have died down for a bit, I decided to hunt around for some cutthroat.

By now, I figured most of them would be out along the beaches, possibly chasing down the remaining groups of out-migrating chum fry or simply roaming for easy meals in general.

Armed with a 5 and a 6 weight and a few clousers, Don and I headed for the beach.

It'd been a while since he'd been out and weather-wise, we couldn't have picked a better day: blue skies and light wind gave us the impression that summer might make an early appearance this year.

Fishing-wise, it didn't look so good.

A less-than-ideal tide and a lack of showing fish predicted a hard-working, low return day in the salt.

But there was no sense turning our backs on such a nice day so into the weak tide we went.

Roaming up and down the beach, I felt a quick tap.

Feigning injury, I let the fly sink, twitching a few seconds later.

I felt resistance again, but it felt more like seaweed than a fish.

Curious, I stripped in.

I think I would have preferred seaweed!

It was a start, at the least.

Something else had to be here. Tidal exchange aside, this beach's features possessed everything that should hold cutthroat.

I was determined to reveal their presence.

Walking down to one of the few decent rips forming, I threw my clouser downtide, letting it swing for a few seconds for starting my retrieve.

Like a few weeks ago, sometimes determination is enough. :)

Thankfully, the day had proven to be productive after all.

Continuing to work through the rip, I felt a tap similar to the sculpin from earlier in the day. Letting the fly hesitate again, this time hoping to shake the little bullhead off, I slowly resumed my retrieve.

Anticipating another tap, I felt a stronger resistance instead.

"Great," I thought, "a big bullhead instead of a small one."

Except this bullhead was pulling a little too much for, well, a bullhead.

It couldn't have been a cutthroat. If it was, it would've gone airborne at least once by now.

A flounder, perhaps?

No, it was shaking its head.

Blackmouth?

Not strong enough.

Definitely not a coho.

So what, then?

Something MOST unexpected!

The day was killing me.

Somehow, I had managed to successfully wade through a barrage of requests and fire drills, only to find myself brain dead by noon.

I had to get out of the office.

But how best to spend that time recuperating and preparing for the next wave?

Figuring no one would miss me for a little while (and if they did, tough luck, I thought), I dialed the first number that came to mind.

"Is George still there?"

"Yeah, come on down."

Heh heh, nothing like gawking at new gear to chase my fluorescent light-induced headache away.

A zippy drive later landed me in another, more palatable (by far) dimension.

Before my eyes lay Simms' Fall 2009 offerings.

Jackets, some new, some improved upon, bags and assorted soft goods lay strewn about the shop.

I surveyed the madness, my eyes unable to focus on any given thing.

The next twenty minutes were a blur but I believe they included chicken teriyaki, questions about Alaskan beach fishing and how many people had signed up for the next beach class.

Even after that, this is all I could remember:

The new Superlight Insulate Jacket--they ditched the quilted look.

New layering--I believe this is a Guide Top.

Great. The Windstopper Hoody now comes in Ninja Black (at least, that's what I call it). Guess I'll have to get one when they come out...*sigh*

What's this? A new bag lineup?

My personal highlight of the upcoming bags/cases. This reel vault isn't a one-trick pony--it comes with removable pocket flaps for your shooting heads and tips.

There were more items but the camera was running out of batteries and I was out of time.

Needless to say, I have quite the holiday shopping list started thanks to the Simms Fall Roadshow.

I can't believe I'm looking forward to November already... :)

Where: The beach
When: Sunday
Conditions: Sunny warm, medium to heavy wind
Flies used: Clousers
Species pursued: Resident coho, sea-run cutthroat

Song of the day: "Disturbia," Rihanna

"I've been meaning to check this place out for a while now."

I had gotten word that the latest productive beach had slowed down, so Mike and I opted to do some exploring, hoping to find a few fresh shores.

A handful of beaches were on the docket. We selected our starting point based on the wind's direction.

Seemingly promising from the aerial photos, our first location proved to be a bust, save for a few dinkers.

We couldn't complain--exploring has its risks and the biggest one is the reality of a skunking.

But we had the majority of the day and other places to scout.

Moving from spot to spot, we found ourselves walking down one particular stretch more in an effort to enjoy the sun than to locate a willing pod.

Ironically, it's usually during these moments that the fish decide to reveal themselves.

This instance was no exception.

My interest piqued, I surmised the reason why this fish had decided to take me up on my offer--a better-than-average rip lay in front of me, stretching downtide for at least two hundred yards.

He had bitten on the inside edge of the current, about 3 seconds after I had lost interest in my retrieve and was ready to pick up and throw another cast.

Figuring that my disinterest had slowed my retrieve enough to convince the fish to strike, I incorporated that into my following casts and proceeded working down the beach.

A few minutes later, a similar reward came to hand.

Not bad for such a lackadaisical approach.

It wasn't to last, however, as the wind simply made things too unbearable for even my fast 5 weight.

Rather than stoke my frustration, I opted to retire for the moment and leave the beach for stronger rods (and arms)to ply...

Minutes later, breeze pounding our eardrums, I half-shouted to Mike.

"We're done here. Let's get out of the wind."

"Man, I can't get skunked...it's been since July."

"Then maybe you're due--that's a pretty long stretch, you know."

"Agh! Don't say that, I can't hear that kind of talk."

But our timeline was running tight--we had an hour and half left, maybe less.

"One last beach, then."

He nodded and we took off to a calmer shore.

"C'mon, just one sign, one jump."

I'd been here before; holding out, hoping, waiting for that hail mary jumper before you had to reel it in.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen.

We sat on a log, gazing at the lazy current, discussing the difference between the flavors of Dominican and Nicaraguan cigars, an inch away from calling it a day.

And just like the previous spot, our apathy triggered the desired response.

"There you go, dude!" I exclaimed, pointing at a very obvious rise.

"No way, are you messing with me?"

"Nope, fish away, the clock's ticking."

A fishless angler running out of time is a study in both dogged perseverance and desperation. From what I've observed, luck and skill no longer play contributing factors to success.

It sounds stupid, but if anything, it's about willpower.

The will to deny doubt, improbability and, on occasion, the passage of time.

It's like what that guy said in Happy Gilmore: "Harness in the good energy, block out the bad." Heh.

For our last twenty minutes on the beach, that's what Mike was all about.

And rightfully so:

"Doin' the Bull Dance. Feelin' the flow." :)