Lake Creek, Alaska by Robert Kowal Flying out of Anchorage with our excited group of four, the city evaporated quickly behind, replaced with horizon to horizon small, treeless rimmed ponds, expanding mountain views and braided rivers below.  After five months of planning, we were off on a dream trip to Lake Creek, a river originating in Chelatna Lake in the foothills of Mt. Denali, the tallest mountain in North America.  After having thought of doing the trip ourselves then calculating the logistics of planning, gathering food for and preparing and cleaning up 96 meals, we decided in early February of this year to accept Marty Decker’s offer to lead us. He is a guide and owner of Frontier River Guides in Anchorage and through a series of providential E- mails, agreed to take us on a seven-day float-fishing trip.  It proved to be a decision I gave thanks for each day of the trip.  He provided rafts, tents, food, insect proof dining tent with tables and chairs along with two guides who set up our tents, cooked scrumptious meals and put us onto fish in places we would have passed by if we had gone on our own. This adventure had started as an idea in the fall of 2005, and blossomed into a commitment by the four of us in early February 2006. Peter and Hucky Hill, my cousins who I had not seen for 20+ years and Virge Gering, a friend of mine in Spokane Washington where we both live made up the group. As the bush plane circled Lake Chelatna with snow capped peaks in the distance on a beautiful cobalt blue sky day, my heart beat with excitement and anticipation of a true wilderness adventure.  I had fished the Kenai River as well as Kodiak Island, but both of those were filled with other fishermen and huge numbers of boats competing for a spot to drift a king salmon hole.  We had seen no one on this river as we had flown over it and we had the lake to ourselves.  Debarking from the plane wearing our waders, the guides said, “Go fishing while we set up the rafts.”  Never having assembled a raft, I said my first prayer of thanks for having hired guides.  It would have taken us hours to set up two rafts, let alone know how to load all the camping gear for weight balance.  Hucky soon was yelling with delight and brought to shore a 26” lake trout.  “Dinner”, shouted the guide. They cooked it to perfection and we enjoyed a hearty river caught meal the first night out. Floating down Lake Creek, Brian, one of the guides – who had floated this river since age 14 instructed us to cast our fly to “that small rock there, that drop-off to the left, etc” At a lunch stop I hooked a large rainbow and Brian looked at it saying, “I caught that fish on the last trip a few weeks ago; I recognize those irregular markings.”  He not only knew the river, he knew the fish! An hour later and 47 red striped rainbows, caught and released we pulled onto an island and got ready for the night.  The guides set up the tents and we continued to fish until dinner and then after until 11:00 PM as the sun didn’t set until 2-3 AM. Fishing downstream from the island the next day, Peter hooked a huge king salmon and fought it for 20 minutes before it broke off.  Breaking camp, we piled into the rafts and continued downstream, now with our 10 weight fly rods for kings as well as a 6 weight for the rainbows and grayling.  As the sun got lower in the sky that night, we were camped at the confluence of a small feeder stream and enjoying the ambiance of a wilderness setting all to ourselves.  We had caught and released over 90 rainbows and grayling that day, and Virge had landed a king salmon, which was released.  Early the next day, I was up with my 10 weight casting for kings, silent torpedo shadows, cruising upriver to their site of birth.  I had a fly on which was very significant for me. Recently a woman, Susan, I taught with had died of cancer.  Before she had died, I told her I was going to Alaska would take a fly I tied in memory of her with me, and when I caught a king on it, I would release it and send it on its way as a spiritual gift for her.  She appreciated my sharing that with her. On my third cast, I hooked a huge king and it peeled 150 feet into my backing in 8 seconds.  I held tight, as it pulled harder than any fish I had ever hooked and played it to my utmost.  When it surfaced with Susan’s fly in its mouth, I was confident I would fulfill my promise to her. The king had other ideas and with a last strong run took off downstream, leaving me with that empty feeling from a slack line. Yet, I looked at it as a success and sent Susan a short prayer of thanks for having been able to hook a fish with her fly and know that the salmon would breed and continue the cycle of life, as she would have wanted. That afternoon, on an island formed by the river splitting into two branches, we spotted a mother grizzly and three cubs.  She ambled towards us on the other side of the river to get our scent. We were upwind and she could not smell us.  Moving into the woods, she appeared shortly downwind of us and stood on her hind legs with nose in air.  Realizing we were no threat to her, she woofed at her cubs and retreated into the bush.  Shortly after, Hucky caught a silver salmon about five pounds and Virge another.  That night we ate them both and I sat back satisfied and content as I could be having enjoyed the perfect day on a river.  For the next several days we repeated the fantastic catching and releasing of dozens of rainbow and grayling.  At a great campsite I stood in one spot and caught nine fish in 20 minutes before breakfast, and after breakfast returned to catch seven more, some of which I recognized as ones I had caught earlier.  Hungry fish in that pool!  On the last day, I hooked a king with my ten weight on a black egg sucking leech and this time landed it successfully. Finally my first king landed on a fly rod. It wasn’t huge, but it was the attainment of a goal I had set many months before.   With a huge stretch of heavy rapids to navigate, the guides instructed us what to do in case the rafts started to tip or lodge against a rock.  When the repeated their instructions, I knew they meant business and I gave my life vest strap an extra tug.  As class three to four (on a scale of five) rapids loomed ahead, I held on tight to the raft frame for a wild 40-minute ride through rough white water.  Again, I thought, “I am glad we have guides.”  Although I have had 40 years of white water canoeing experience and consider myself proficient in white water maneuvering, a raft fully loaded with gear and three people is another ballgame.  AS the guides skillfully negotiated the currents, pulling on an oar to turn just before we hit an SUV size boulder, my admiration for their abilities increased tenfold. When the takeout for the trip appeared around the bend, we were all exhausted from the rapids as well as long day of fishing a beautiful stretch of the river.  When the bush plane landed to fly us back to Anchorage, it was with regrets I looked back upriver and bid it farewell.  Later that night back in our Anchorage bed and breakfast, we all shared our most enjoyable moments and talked of returning next year.  We were fortunate to have had great weather, excellent fishing, skilled guides and wonderful cooperation and friendship between us all. For those of you wanting to experience a trip of a lifetime, I recommend a guided trip down an Alaskan wilderness river.  The reward is greater than the expense and will give you memories to last a lifetime. A trusted guide with very reasonable rates for choices of several Alaskan rivers is Marty Decker, owner of Frontier River Guides, His website is http://www.frontierriverguides.com/ Hatches Magazine Subscription Price: $6.95 for each issue The Premiere issue is ready for shipping & the Fall 2008 issue will be available September 1st. Hatches Magazine Subscription Price: $6.95 for each issue The Premiere issue is ready for shipping & the Fall 2008 issue will be available September 1st.