Column: No king for me
Sometimes the end leaves no doubt, even when the end features no fish. It’s not a numbers or time thing. It’s a feeling.
As a man forced me to reel up as his tail-hooked king salmon ran downriver into the small little edge I was fishing (away from the chaos upriver), I inched closer to that point.
I turned and watched him as he guided the tired fish to shore, kicked some water on it, then took out his cellphone. I returned to my casting.
When I booked a guide for the first day of my honeymoon with my wife, I was curious as to why the guide steered us toward the Kenai River for trout, even though we said we’d prefer the Kasilof River for kings. He said there was better access for king salmon on the Kasilof than there was for rainbows on the Kenai, so since we wanted to do both, he suggested maxing out the rainbow program.
It did not disappoint. The Kenai had just opened to motors so we were able to reach a part of the river a short distance from where it meanders out of Skilak Lake and find trout that had been fished for the last few days, not relentlessly hammered for weeks or months.
It was the type of day you hope to have with a guide. Good enough you are happy with your investment, but not so good you feel there is nothing left. Especially on the Kenai since there is so little public access. And yes, my wife caught the biggest fish, a rainbow that was nearly 30 inches.
