Guide Stories
I know you all have been waiting for more old guide stories. I dug up these old pictures of the Kamishack River Camp, I worked for Ray Loeshe’s Rainbow King Lodge at the time. The first time I went to the Kami, I was only going to help set up the camp and would return to stay later, when the silvers arrive. We had a Otter full of gas cans, boat motors, and camp gear. The Kami Camp was a actual wood cabin and food cache, the cabin was without a roof, we used canvas tarps for that. We were busy off loading the plane, when Ray flew in with a 206. Ray had just flew the little Kami River and seen some salmon already coming in. Ray asked me if I would camp, he would bring some clients and my personal camp gear the next day, the answer was yes, you didn’t tell a man like Ray no.
That first day was long, with a lot of hard work. We got the boats all set up and put the roof on the cabin. At about midnight, me and my fellow guide Jon Midthun went up the little Kami to find these Salmon that Ray had seen from the plane. I recall we had a map Ray had drawn on a napkin, “ awesome”. I was from Colorado and Jon “Mud” was from North Dakota, neither one of us had ever even seen a salmon let alone guided for them. We fallowed Rays map to the spot, Mud’s first cast produced a 15 pound Chum Salmon, we both caught several fish and I quickly burnt out the gears in my Pflueger reel. We made our way back to the shack, must have been about 3:00 am, I was cold and tired. I didn’t have any gear because I was not planning on staying, all I had were my waders and a light jacket, I slept in my waders that few hours until the plane came. Mud and I took some clients to the spot, it sucked, we caught maybe two all day. I do remember that the clients reported back to the lodge that Mud and I were ” nice guys, but did not know our asses from elbows”, of course this got back to me, maybe we should not of pounded those fish all night before the clients. I would be prepared for the next group.
I camped at the Kami for 65 days that summer, this record will remain untouched, the kids now days are to soft. I learned a lot about the bush during that time, especially how to run a boat, the big Kami was sketchy. The cabin is long gone, the state made us remove it, most good things are gone. I got the memories and a few pictures, as begin my 23 season I find myself thinking of those days more and more.
Tying
I’m just tying them up. I thought I would be out fishing by now, but my guide friends and I are all broke. I’ll just sit here and tie up more foam hoppers. I’ll be rolling in the dough when hopper season rolls around.
Spring Deals
Weather is nice, fish are big, its time to get your spring fish on. We will get em with the bobber, streamer, might even see a few rise. I will be offering the same spring deals I do every year. One to three days, full price, what a deal, you’ll get what you paid for.
Funny
I just posted this picture because it’s funny. If you know either one of these two dudes, you would be laughing to. This client goes by the name of ” K 2″. K2 is a real high roller, he fishes all the finest lodges around the world. K2 comes to Montana, mostly to nap and drink Coors, he catches Brown Trout, usually when he’s not looking.
March Madness
March Madness, Is throwing all those home brewed streamers you tied all winter. March will definitely have it’s winter conditions, even on the coldest days you might catch a giant. I’ll go throw some streamers during March Madness, Yellowstone, Missouri, maybe the Jefferson. I still dream of catching a 10 pound brown. 
Ugly
Yeah, I will admit this one is ugly. Lets call it the “Willie Nelson”, not because Willie is ugly, but because he is the “Red Headed Stranger”. I’ll catch a big one with this. I might have to fish night and day for a month, but I’ll catch one. Hey, maybe I can test it out on a client? Ed loves to throw streamers, I’m going to call Eddy, and tell him the big ones are eating “Willie Nelsons” like no tomorrow.
Stay Thirsty My Friend
Ed doesn’t go fishing often once a month but when he does, he catches some big ones. Ed likes big Browns, and a few Trout Slayers. “ Stay thirsty Fast Eddy”.
Spots
Check out the spots on this one. This fish looks like one of those New Zealand beasts. Long time client Paul P. busted this one on a hopper in the rain. Paul and his fishing buddy Ed are planning a trip real soon, are you? These guys are always my first clients in the spring, they will fish through any conditions to catch a trout.
Munch This
This is a little something I twisted up. I don’t have a name for it yet, we will see if it works first. Do you think it will get munched? “I do”. I can’t remember what the fish pictured below, Munched? I do recall, it was a slow day in the early spring, we only boated about 3 fish. We boated one bigger than this, just before the take out. I prefer the days when you catch just a few big ones. For some reason we were throwing a soft 4 wgt rod. You can throw streamers with a little light weight rod, even in the wind, if you just sit down. Big fish like these, are a lot of fun on 4 wgt.
Old Days
Another chapter in the life of a young trout bum. This story is from 1990, I was a second year guide for a well established fly out fishing lodge, in Southwest Alaska. My second year as a guide, I was higher up in seniority. The lodge had just been purchased by some new energetic guys, who had a little money to make the lodge even better. The new owners purchased some real fancy boats, the kind of boats that you didn’t see to often in the bush. The new boats were 21 foot sleds, with 351 Ford V-8s, I recall they had Holly 4 barrel carbs. Bad ass boats, to be trusted to some 21 year old punk guides. The boats were going to be used for King Salmon fishing over on the Branch River. One or two guides would camp out on the river to take care of the boats and guide.
Myself, and high school friend, and fellow guide, Ken Countryman would take the boats one at a time down to the Branch River. This was a big trip from Iliamna to the Branch, just to get the boats across Lake Iliamna was dangerous. The lake is 80 miles long and known for wind and rough swells. Commercial boats headed back to Newhalen would even use caution, heading across Lake Iliamna. Kenny, was going to take the first boat, and I would go a few days later. The boats were equipped with two way radios, they worked mainly by line of sight to the airplanes. Kenny headed out with camp supplies food, and a ton of fuel. He had fifty gallon drum of Av gas in front of the center council, the boat was heavy. Kenny made it fine across the lake, and through the braids of the Kvichak River. He hit a storm down near the village of Leavlock. The Gail force winds blew against the current, causing giant waves. This part of the river is wide and shallow, a mile across, and hard to read due to the muddy tide water. At this point Kenny was in danger, as the swells came over the boat, he could only continue straight into the wind, to turn side ways towards the bank would capsize the boat. The huge waves had the barrel of fuel bouncing all over the boat causing much damage. The fuel barrel broke open all the storage compartments causing Kenny to lose all of his camp gear. Due to the problems occurred from the storm, Kenny missed the turn off to the Branch River. Kenny was now on a hell ride, headed into Bristol Bay, in the eye of a storm.
Back at the lodge, we had no idea of the storm, or that Kenny was in grave danger. We received a radio call from a pilot that happened to be headed through the area. The pilot basically translated to us, Kenny’s distress call. All we knew, was Kenny was in trouble, and we didn’t have contact or his location. I remember being in shock, and really concerned for my friends life. This was the first time I realized, life in the bush is dangerous. Due to the storm we could not go look for Kenny in the airplanes, it was a helpless feeling. Later that night we received information that Kenny had run aground on a tiny island with one of those buoy markers on it, in the ocean. Ken was luckily rescued by a guy who had a set net permit in the area. Ironically, the guy who rescued Ken, was named Savior, without Savior, Kenny might be dead.
Next it was my turn to take a boat. I had never seen the mighty Kvichak, little loan drive a sled on it. The Kvichak had a bunch of braids at the top end, and big tide flats down by the mouth of the Branch. later in years I would work at lodge on this river, and be able to navigate the braids with ease, but at this stage I was worried, especially after Kenny’s fiasco. They flew me down to the branch, so I could see it from the air, I had my mind made up on how to get through the braids, stay middle.
I took off with good weather and a plan to hit the tide right. Things usually don’t go as planned and I departed late that day. I made it through the braids just fine, good conditions, my confidence was building. Looking back on it, I never felt so alive,” high adventure”. I made it down the Kvichak past Jack Holman’s lodge, then past Ron Hayes place. As I went past Hayes Lodge the weather was getting bad. I remember waving to Ron’s pilots as they were returning from the days fishing. It was now raining and blowing hard, I should of stopped at Ron’s, and laid up. Now I was worried again, and kept thinking about Kenny’s trip. A few miles down from Ron’s, the river gets wide and ugly. I had five foot white caps, and could no longer read the water. I was fearful of running into a sand bar and getting stuck. I missed the tide, it was going out against the same wind Kenny had. I passed the town of Leavlock and started looking left, for the mouth of the Branch. We had a group of people fishing on the Branch that day, so when they headed back to the lodge they flew the river to keep tabs on me. I had radio contact with the pilot, and was asking him how close the mouth of the branch I was. The plane flew over my boat at about 10 feet, the ceiling was low and the conditions were getting bad. The pilot was not in a talking mood. As I watched the plane disappear into the fog, I felt all alone. I was actually glad I wasn’t flying in this shit, that pilot was a real cowboy.
I was kind of getting scared, I wished I wasn’t on this huge, wide, ugly water. The white caps were coming over the gunnel’s, buckets of cold water were hitting my face. I made my mind up to get up the Branch and out of this weather. I angled the boat to the left bank, I had to be close. The gas barrel was starting to bounce on the boat floor. I needed to get out of this wind! I turned up what looked like a mouth of a river, hard to tell in these tide flats. Finally, yes, I was headed up the Branch. The river got smaller and as I started to get out of tide water, it started to look like a river, a river that I could read. Although I was panicked a hour before, now I was looking at this new river wondering were the trout might hold? Even though I had twenty more miles to go and then set up a camp, I wasn’t worried anymore.
As I made my way past Tony Sharp’s lodge, I had allot of ugly stares as I cruzed through. I could tell these guys were not happy to see this new fancy boat on their river. What a shitty looking lodge, I coined the phrase “Ply Wood Palace” at that moment. I knew we would never be friends, so be it, Tony Carp. The picture is from a few days later, I had a kid from Oregon camped with me, the kid could catch kings. I liked trout.
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