Paul headed back toward Anchorage a little earlier than me because he needed to get a new tire. He got Metzlers put on before he left and it looked about 3/4 worn already. The thought was that it would be cheaper to replace in Anchorage, so he was going to do it there.
I was about 45 minutes behind him heading back up the peninsula. I was riding a faster pace than on the way down, and wasn't taking so many pictures. I was riding about 75mph when a moose darts on the road from the left. Well, moose don't really dart, it looked more like a clumsy slow horse galloping across the highway. I was able to swerve and brake, but it still got my heart pumping for another mile or two.
I passed the section of the Russian River again where I saw all those fishermen, and there were even more this time. (the photo is from the other day when there were less fishermen) I pass plenty of sections of river where there were no fishermen at all, so I was still wondering why everyone goes here. Matt, down in Homer, kept referring to it as "Combat Fishing". At first I thought it was an actual expression, but the next day (i'm writing this on the 25th) I saw a sign at a campground that said "No combat fishing". So, this is an actual type of sport. I still need to look it up.
By the time I reached Anchorage, Paul was still waiting with Steve for the tire to be repaired. I couldn't find them quickly so we decided to meet at the next stop, Wassilla Alaska, home of the Iditarod Headquarters.
Outside they had a sled dog team and a Musher ready to give rides. The sled was on wheels with a steering mechanism in the back. The dogs all got very excited when they were getting ready to give a ride as they yelped and barked at each other. Inside the headquarters was a video room and lots of authentic memorabilia like trophies, dog booties used in the races, a couple stuffed race winers (dogs, not mushers hah) and of course all the merchandise to purchase.
Wasilla, a seemingly small town (population about 7000), was extremely congested. It wasn't congested in a way like Anchorage, it just seemed like their population outgrew the 2 lane road system. We were leaving at around 5pm so maybe it was just rush hour there.
A little further north is a very small town called Willow. We setup camp at the Willow State Recreation area which set about a mile or two off the main road. It is setup along a stream in a heavily wooded area. Once camp was setup we headed to find some food and anything beyond gas station stacks didn't seem like it was going to be easy to find.
This is the campground that had the sign posted for "No combat fishing". What was disappointing was that there was no fishing allowed till the 26th, 2 days later. I got a one week fishing license and we haven't had much luck with being able to fish around our camps. I think I missed the best fishing down on the Kenai Peninsula already though. We did take a hike out to the stream anyway and were able to see lots of salmon swimming/jumping up stream.
One of the other campers told us of another place off the main road, but when we got there the owner said he wasn't ready to open yet and pointed us to "the next left, over the railroad tracks, then a right on the first paved road". After getting on that paved road it seemed like he may had been pulling our leg, but about a mile later there it was "The Trading Post". There were a few local motorcycles out front. We went inside and they were all decked out in their leathers playing pool. The sign on the wall read "Warning, Poker Players and Loose Women" and there were a few tables beyond the bar.
I ordered a Halibut chip dinner which actually turned out to be a lot better than I was expecting. The mashed potatoes were lumpy and topped with a load of gravy, and they were great. Finished it off with some home made chocolate pie.
I read up on combat fishing.... Found a good link for you :) http://www.gadling.com/2009/05/27/only-in-alaska-combat-fishing-and-the-rules-of-engagement/
ReplyDeleteWith much of Alaska remote and rugged, the intersections of salmon streams and highways, or salmon streams and cities, become hotspots of fishing mayhem, where fishermen stand shoulder to shoulder as they pull their limits in. It's an odd sight, as you're driving through miles of mountains, to suddenly come upon hundreds of people sardined together in a single line along the banks of a pristine river.
Here are some rules for you just in case you want to try it! lol :)
If you decide you want to join in the intensities, there are a few rules of engagement you should follow. I snagged these from the Peninsula Clarion:
Don't take someone else's spot
When you hook a salmon, yell "fish on!" If someone near you yells this, take your line out of the water.
If someone else has a fish and your lines become tangled, cut your line.
Wear protective glasses to protect your eyes from flying hooks and sinkers.
In general, be respectful and safe. And once you snag that giant salmon, don't forget to take the usual bear precautions. Though the hundreds of people lined along the banks of the river may appear to be playing some adult version of "Red Rover," you're actually in the middle of some very wild country.