Fresh back from The Last Frontier — also known as Alaska, and my mind is still reeling. I traveled north to see first-hand if Alaska is all it’s cracked up to be.
Sure enough, jagged snow-capped peaks, vast wetlands and green space were plentiful. A five-day adventure, with the potential future in-laws (Alaska residents) serving as our guides, was not long enough to truly experience the state that is more than twice the size of Texas. But it was long enough to get a feel for what makes Alaska mythical. The beautiful scenery provided an ample backdrop for reminding me that valuable lessons are hidden in each new experience. Here are a few that stuck out.
Glacier walking
A $20 park entry fee and a half-mile hike bought a walk on the Matanuska glacier, located in the Mat-Su Valley northeast of Anchorage.
The huge hunk of ice appeared solid, but every few feet, the otherwise thick layer of sand covering the ice thinned, revealing a stream of water coursing through the underbelly of the glacier.
Further ahead, beyond a sign that warned of the dangers posed to inexperienced hikers or those who proceeded without a guide, a group of climbers ascending the brilliant gleaming ice structure appeared as small dots in the distance. The sign urged us to bound our sense of adventure and refrain from following the group on to the denser, blue ice that crept out from between two large mounds of earth spotted with snow. Reluctantly, we obeyed.
The experience is not one I will soon have again, or forget. A bit of history about the glacier put the trip into perspective. The Matanuska glacier is among the largest in Alaska accessible by road. Like many things in life, it’s constantly changing. The glacier is shrinking and the living history is slowing disappearing. The overwhelming message: Enjoy Earth’s natural beauty — that found in structures as large as glaciers and as small as mountain flowers — while they are here.
Russian River fishing
The highlight of the trip was to be a chartered sea fishing voyage out of Seward.
However, the day before the excursion, the trip was canceled due to forecasted gale winds that were predicted to create waves reaching heights up to 19 feet.
The charter trip was replaced with good old-fashioned fishing on the Russian River on opening day of salmon fishing season. A few pairs of socks, five layers of clothing, including a thin windbreaker to ward off the gusts, and thigh-high hip waders were part of the necessary fishing attire.
The Russian is the place to be during fishing season. Fishermen and women line the banks of the river shoulder to shoulder.
In a carefully orchestrated and well-rehearsed ritual, they carefully cast their lines, avoiding other fishers, while positioning their fly to per-chance snag a sockeye, or Red as they’re called, as it swims up river with its mouth open. Cast out, wait briefly, reel in. Repeat.
The salmon run had not yet fully reached the river and fishing was slow. Four and a half hours later, we cast one last line before packing it up and boarding the river ferry to reach the parking lot. Like many fishers before and after us that day, we walked away empty-handed. Rumor is, it’s rare to visit the Russian and not catch your limit.
Despite the lack of a “big one” — sockeye salmon can grow up to a few feet long — Russian River fishing was worth the experience. It’s not every day that I throw on a pair of hip waders, venture into freezing cold water and patiently wait with a fishing pole tucked under one arm and the other arm poised to reel with all my might.
Message learned: Don’t be afraid to brave the elements and try new things. There’s value in surprising oneself. There’s also value in big fish, if you’re able to land one.
