Castner Glacier : Hello, but Goodbye

Shedding just one drop of water at a time glaciers containing enough water to change ocean levels can melt and disappear. The glaciers of Alaska have been around for a thousands of years. However, aging the Alaskan glaciers has proven difficult in some regions. The age of Alaskan glaciers is debated because they do not fall into time of expansion like lower 48 glacier (i.e. they do not necessarily expand just because of an ice age) (Pewe and Reger 1983) and there are many methods (e.g. dendrochronology, lichenometry, radio-carbon dating) to look at expansion time and range (Barclay et al. 2009, Pewe and Reger 1991 ) – from my reading it seems the methods and results have quite a few different answers to the same questions. So, although I would like to tell you how long the fresh glacier water I drank had been locked in its solid state, I do not really think I can!

South of Delta Junction, Alaska, Castner Glacier is a rapidly receding glacier, and has changed dramatically since my last time here this spring. Just see for yourself in the pictures below! The glacier is constantly collapsing on itself; its end (i.e. the terminal moraine) is rapidly melting due to summer temperatures and record levels of summer rain this season.  The cave shown was photographed just 4 months ago! The large chunks of ice which ‘calved’ from the glaciers front have melted, and the ice cave is very reduced.  It also has lost a lot of its beautiful blue, translucent sheen.

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Castner Glacier Ice Cave 08/24/14. Photographed just 4 months before the photograph before.  I’ve added my parents for reference size 🙂 Extreme melting and degradation of the ice cave have occurred!
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Castner Glacier 04/14/14. The large ice chunks in front of the ice cave have completely melted in the 08/24 photo. What a change in 4 months!

The hike to the glacier’s face follows Castner Creek; the creek is fast-flowing, brown, and fed by the melting glacier. It is incredible to consider that the hundreds of gallons of water which flow by each minute are created by the collection of millions of water drops. The drop becomes a trickle which form a thin, persistent thread of water. The threads intertwine to form rivulets and the rivulets meld into flowages. The valley floor coerces the flowages into a stream which flows to the ocean.  What an astounding thing to consider the power of just one water drop!

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Drop -> Thread -> Rivulet -> Flowage -> River -> Ocean. Each drop from the glacier quickly becomes part of something much, much, much larger!

The video below captures this change of water as it moves from the glacier to stream. I hope you enjoy!

The rate at which the glacier is disappearing seems improbable to me. It is the fastest I have ever seen a ‘slow event’ take place. It seems to make expressions like “working at a glacial speed” seem less appropriate. What natural phenomenons have you seen alter the landscape in a short period? I would love to hear your stories in the comments!

Although the first freeze has not occurred here yet the willows, aspens and alder have already begun to acquire a yellow-green tint to their leaves in anticipation.  Flowers are finishing the blooming and purples, yellows, and whites have given way to wispy seed-heads to be carried away by a persistent breeze.

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The large puffy seed-heads of these mountain avens were accentuated by the saturated greens of moss and the contrasts of a grey day.
This fireweed seed pod had just opened scattering its delicate seeds to wind and surrounding earth.
This fireweed seed pod had just opened scattering its delicate seeds to wind and surrounding earth.
The leathery texture of this bear berry added to the vibrant falls colors it was transitioning to.
The leathery texture of this bear berry added to the vibrant falls colors it was transitioning to.

 

Thanks for reading everyone! Enjoy the fall colors which are coming soon!

 

Citations:

Barclay, David J., Gregory C. Wiles, and Parker E. Calkin. “Holocene glacier fluctuations in Alaska.” Quaternary Science Reviews 28.21 (2009): 2034-2048.

Péwé, Troy L., and Richard D. Reger. “Delta River Area, Alaska Range10.”Quaternary Geology and Permafrost Along the Richardson and Glen Highways Between Fairbanks and Anchorage, Alaska: Fairbanks to Anchorage, Alaska July 1-7, 1989 (1983): 25-38.

Reger, Richard D., and Troy L. Péwé. “Dating Holocene moraines of Canwell Glacier, Delta River Valley, central Alaska Range.” Short Notes on Alaskan Geology, Professional Report 111 (1991): 63-68.

The Loon, The Moon, The Fox, and The Dalton Highway

Summer is waning here in Alaska. In Fairbanks, tundra breeding birds are being seen in fields and overhead. Particularly the Sandhill Cranes make themselves known with their raucous and odd cries. Kassie and I wanted to experience the tundra and birds before they leave for the year.

In the recent style of my blogs, I’ll open up with the video of the trip. It captures the beauty of constant scenery, the curiosity of a fox, the detail of small birds, and the disparity of millions of mosquitoes. If you have questions about the ID of anything in the video keep reading, they’ll be discussed further below!

To get to the tundra we head north on the Dalton Highway. The Dalton Highway was completed in 1974 to service the Alaska Pipeline. The road traverses the Brooks Range via Atigun Pass at about 5000 feet – a large climb from about 400 feet in the flats of Fairbanks! It is the only complete corridor across the interior and is also called the ‘haul road’ due to the high semi-truck traffic hauling goods and supplies. On television it was made famous by the reality show Ice Road Truckers – which I experienced in a sense first hand last winter 

On the topic of mosquitoes, I might as well put to rest any thoughts you have of “I’ve seen mosquitoes because I have lived in Maine or Minnesota”. I thought I was prepared for the bugs based on my living in those areas. Nothing could have prepared me for the swarms of bugs. They are tolerable in a breeze, but nearly impossible to deal with when the breeze disappears. Any knee high bush in the tundra contained hundreds of the small buzzards which well up in the eddies of the wind created by your body. The lee of your body allows mosquitoes and black flies to fly into your eyes, nose, ears and mouth. They are vicious and aim for your hairline, temples and hands.

The Fox

North of the Brooks Range we happened across this Red Fox. Incredibly, it gave little notice to the two gaping humans in the truck and went about his business of marking his territory and hunting. The Red Fox and Arctic Fox overlap in range north of the Brooks Range. If they encounter each other the larger and stronger Red Fox will chase off or kill the Arctic Fox. Fox are able to hunt even in the snow and many film clips show them diving for prey (e.g. BBC’s “Life”). It’s possible that Red Fox can align themselves to the magnetic field before the pounce, and that it enables them to successfully hunt prey. I’m just the messenger on this one – I have no idea how that works!

The Loons

Four species of loons occur just north of the Brooks Range. They are the Pacific, Red-Throated, Arctic, and Yellow-billed Loons. These loons raise their chicks in the many pot-holes of the tundra before migrating to Russia, or further south on the coast. We were fortunate enough to see two of these species! The Pacific Loon swam towards us in a small pond along the Dalton. It called in a croaking voice – it seems to have a much different voice than the Common Loons we are used to. The Red-throated loon was much more nervous as it was protecting a chick.

Pacific Loon (Gavia pacifica), South of Atigun Pass
Pacific Loon (Gavia pacifica), South of Atigun Pass
A red-throated loon watches me catiously - it had at least one chick to protect on the lake.
A red-throated loon watches me catiously – it had at least one chick to protect on the lake.
The Moon

As we drove south of Atigun Pass watching the climaxing sunset, Kassie scared me by suddenly exclaiming, “STOP! MOON!”. I looked up, and in the same motion pulled my vehicle to the shoulder of the road and dropped my jaw. The large super-moon which is bigger, brighter and ‘better’ than the ordinary moon because it is closer to the earth, emerged over the mountains. It was framed by the last pieces of the sunset and perched in the valley of the peaks. I declared an emergency photographic opportunity and set up my camera, snapping a few stills before timelapsing its quickly moving path. What an incredible experience!

We were driving down the Dalton Highway when Kassie exclaimed "STOP!, MOON!". The "supermoon" rising over the mountains was one of the most incredible moonrises we had ever seen!
We were driving down the Dalton Highway when Kassie exclaimed “STOP!, MOON!”. The “supermoon” rising over the mountains was one of the most incredible moonrises we had ever seen!
Super Moonrise Dalton Highway
The Odds-and-Ends

Of course, there are lots of things to see along the Dalton Highway. The pictures below help capture the surrounding beauty and wildlife. I’ve included information in their captions, thanks for reading!

This dragonfly posed along the Yukon River in the sunlight. I hope it ate many mosquitoes!
This dragonfly posed along the Yukon River in the sunlight. I hope it ate many mosquitoes!
The Dalton Highway was completed in 1974 to service the Alaska Pipeline. The road traverses the Brooks Range via Atigun Pass at about 5000 feet - a large climb from about 400 feet in the flats of Fairbanks! It is the only complete corridor across the interior and is also called the 'haul road' due to the high semi-truck traffic hauling goods and supplies. On television it was made famous by the reality show Ice Road Truckers - which I experienced in a sense first hand last winter 
A female Northern Wheatear eyes me up while the rain falls in the background. These birds were elusive on Wickersham Dome, but weren’t afraid to pose here! Tundra birds are notoriously fearless because they are not used to people. It is likely this bird will migrate to Eurasia or North Africa!
Arctic ground squirrels actually freeze during the winters. They preserve enough 'brown fat' to wake up once a month. Their body warms up, the become conscious, and then go back to sleep. Researchers think they wake up to preserve memories - amaaaaazing!
Arctic ground squirrels actually freeze during the winters. They preserve enough ‘brown fat’ to wake up once a month. Their body warms up, the become conscious, and then they fall back to sleep. Researchers think they wake up to preserve memories – amaaaaazing!
A river runs all the way up Atigun Gorge. The gorge is walled on each side funneling the river to an unknown end.
A river runs all the way up Atigun Gorge. The gorge is walled on each side funneling the river to an unknown end.
Kassie and I took a break on a large bluff before heading further up Atigun Gorge. What a day!
Kassie and I took a break on a large bluff before heading further up Atigun Gorge. What a day!
Another breeding season comes to an end. This eggshell is from an unknown species, but is quite beautiful in the bearberry!
Another breeding season comes to an end. This eggshell is from an unknown species, but is quite beautiful in the bearberry!
A juvenile American Pipit hangs out in the rain. It can be found throughout North America and may be mis-identified as a sparrow. Keep your eyes out :)
A juvenile American Pipit hangs out in the rain. It can be found throughout North America and may be mis-identified as a sparrow. Keep your eyes out 🙂
In the shelter of our tent we could still enjoy the sunset over the foothills north of the Brooks Range. It was pretty amazing!
In the shelter of our tent we could still enjoy the sunset over the foothills north of the Brooks Range. It was pretty amazing!
Camping on the high tundra is pretty comfortable! Like a mattress.
Camping on the high tundra is pretty comfortable! Like a mattress.

 

Nepenthes Saguinea : 31 Days of Swelling and Growth

The last 31 days my camera has sat in the same place collecting dust. However, that’s not to say I haven’t been using it. The camera has been taking 1 picture every hour for 24 hours a day of Nepenthes saguinea, a tropical pitcher plant. Growing carnivorous plants has been a hobby of mine for 7 years now. During that time I had always wondered what it looks like when they grow, and it was that question I set out to answer. The video below demonstrates the growth of the plant. Watch as its frills unfurl, water forms in the bottom, and it sways and swells :).

Nepenthes saguinea is native to Malaysia where it grows from 300-1800 meters elevation (Source : Wikipedia). The pitchers of the plant captures bugs which cannot climb its steep and slippery walls. The plant in the video is a cutting from a large mother plant; the cutting is now 2.5 years old. The mother plant was purchased in 2007 and has traveled with me from Minnesota, to Wisconsin, to Maine, and now to Alaska. Certainly, I’ve learned a lot about them along the way. For instance, in Fairbanks the sap forms long threads which was not observed in other states. Also, the mature mother plant vines once it reaches about 4 years old, and it’s at that point that cuttings can be easily made. For the most part these plants are easy to take care of. The most important piece is that the soil never dries out. Rather than being chained to my plant like it’s a dog or cat, I have recently built a watering system which pours water on the plant twice per week. There’s a lot of peace of mind knowing the plants are watered when I’m gone on vacation!

Nepethes Saguinea is not used to growing in low humidity (20%) conditions. In Fairbanks, the drops of insect attracting sap formed long icicles.
Nepethes Saguinea is not used to growing in low humidity (20%) conditions. In Fairbanks, the drops of insect attracting sap formed long icicles.

This blog has actually prompted me to look back for pictures of the plants for comparison. It’s amazing to look at the difference in the plants from 6 years ago. How about some before and after? The frills of the sagnuinea seem diminished on the larger pitchers today. Also, the frills are non-existent on the newest truncata pictures.

Nepenthes Saguinea 6 years before and after

1a. Incredibly, here's the picture of my Nepenthes Saquinea which has not spawned other plants, and traveled through 4 states. Pictured here in 2006 in my dorm room in Wisconsin....
1a. Incredibly, here’s the picture of my Nepenthes Saquinea which has not spawned other plants, and traveled through 4 states. Pictured here in 2006 in my dorm room in Wisconsin….
1b.... and here it is today! The vine sprawls and has many, many pitchers.
1b…. and here it is today! The vine sprawls and has many, many pitchers.

Nepenthes truncata 6 years before and after

2a. Here's a picture of Nepenthes Truncata in 2006 in my dorm room in Wisconsin. I was pretty proud of those finger sized pitchers...
2a. Here’s a picture of Nepenthes Truncata in 2006 in my dorm room in Wisconsin. I was pretty proud of those finger sized pitchers…
2b.... which now spawns 11 inch pitchers that I can't get my hand around.
2b…. which now spawns 11 inch pitchers that I can’t get my hand around.
2c... Nepenthes Trucata pitcher after 6 years of growth.
2c… Nepenthes Trucata pitcher after 6 years of growth.

If you want to know more about growing carnivorous plants leave a comment below, I’ll tell you what I learned about growing them! The plants can serve great functions in your house. In particular, sundews are great for removing a fruit fly population, and the pitcher plants will snag lots of wasps!

Fishing the Klutina River and the Kindess of Fisherman

This story is about fishing and how we get to places. It’s also about how advice and the kindness of others shape our experiences.

When the drive south started with Kassie, Andy, and Jenny for our first salmon fishing trip we were headed to the Gulkana River. Online reports and an early push of “red” salmon in the river that summer gave us hope for good fishing. When we arrived we found an incredible camping, a beautiful rushing river, no fisherman, and no fish. If the salmon are running well it would make sense for the river banks to be dotted with rods, lines, and men. Our attempts there proved what could be assumed, we did not catch a fish.  We had a great night at the campground with a fire, s’mores, and chatter.

A simple but beautiful sunset at the Gulkana River.
A simple but beautiful sunset at the Gulkana River.
A great night for company, food, a fire, and the sound of a rushing river.
A great night for company, food, a fire, and the sound of a rushing river.

The next morning we were ready for a change of pace. Heading to the local gas station we stepped inside to hunt for some information. The gas station was small, but well kept. A basket of coho flies sat near the cashier’s box tended by a woman in broad rimmed glasses. Her shock white hair gave little doubt that she had been in Alaska for quite some time.  After telling her we tried fishing the Gulkana she explained the fish were not there yet. But, she continued, if we headed to the Klutina they were doing pretty well on salmon. This information was good enough for us! We headed south.

As we walked across the bridge over the Klutina River we met a couple who went out of their way to inform us of a path that ran down the river for almost a mile. We fished the troughs, holes, and eddies on the way down with the expectation of a tight line; we were never gratified. As we moved down the river we came to a spot where large pool swirled and seemed a natural place to fish. To add to the beauty of the spot a large snow covered peak held guard at the downstream end of the river and only one older man fished the area. I stationed below this man about forty yards and Andy fished above him. 5…15…..45…. 90 minutes we fished-and-fished, dropping small casts upstream and floating our flies. Sockeye salmon, also nicknamed ‘reds’ for the color they turn as they go upstream, swim up the rivers with their mouth open and do not eat. The only way to legally catch the fish with a hook and line is to drag a line through their mouth, effectively ‘flossing’ the fish and hooking it in the corner of the mouth. Any fish snagged in the side or belly must be released. Before you object that it sounds like catching fish in a barrel remember that due to high rain the river ran fast and was cloudy. You simply play the odds that enough fish are going up river and that sooner or later your line will pass through its mouth. …100..110….120 minutes we fished. Neither of us could catch a fish, but in that time the man between us had pulled out his limit of six beautiful sockeye salmon. He had lost just as many as that. Both Andy and I were wide-eyed.  I have never felt so inadequate as a fisherman, or more strongly that wisdom comes with age.

After packing up his rod and net the man sat on the bank with his head down. After holding that pose for 5 minutes, Andy and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows; was the man having a problem? I walked over to him.

“Are you alright?” I asked him tentatively.

Looking up at me he replied “Oh, bless you, yes I’m OK. I have a heart issue, so I just need to take it slow”.

“Well” I stated, “I would gladly haul those fish to the bridge for you in trade for a secret or two on how you did that”.

“Oh, bless you”, the man replied again, “if I can’t haul these fish out of here I might as well quit. This might be my last season as it is and I’ve been fishing this river for forty-two years. Here, let me show you.”

We walked downstream to where the man had stood for two ours and had caught six beautiful red-salmon. He instructed me to stand five feet straight downstream of a rock. In front of me, a large ‘pocket’ of water eddied behind a brawny boulder eight feet upstream of me.  Adding a ‘more weight’ to my line, he instructed me to cast to an small piece of water about 2×2 feet wide.

“Don’t cast too far”, he advised, “there’s no need, and you’ll get a better drift”

I thanked him and he moved upstream to clean his salmon. Andy was the first to hook up. The fish took off downstream and Andy played it back and forth. Jenny helped by running the net helter-skelter over slippery rocks and around hanging alders to where the red splashed in the shallows. With a few pokes of the net the fight was over. Fish was on the menu! The man watched from his pile of fillets and cheered along with us.

Andy Red
Andy with our first Red of the trip!

I was the next to hook up on and the fish got off. However, the following sockeye to be flossed by my fly took off downstream. With my nine-weight fly rod bending over, the fish turned downstream stealing line from my hands and headed for the middle of the rapids. I pulled him back towards shore before the salmon peeled off more line from my spool. Back and forth we went for 5 minutes. In the end, the net which was pinched between my knees during the whole fight was unsheathed and the salmon scooped up. Finally, some success! And all thanks to the gentleman.

My first red on a fly rod! Unfortunately, this is the last picture with this rod... it broke shortly after :\
My first red on a fly rod! Unfortunately, this is the last picture with this rod… it broke shortly after :\
Fishing Success! A pair of first 'reds' for two happy Klutina River fishers!
Fishing Success! A pair of first ‘reds’ for two happy Klutina River fishers!

I missed several more fish that day before disaster struck. While pulling out a snag the top of my rod snapped. I was not doing anything irresponsible with the rod. In fact. I had the line grasped in my had and was pulling on it. I must have exerted enough pressure to break the rod.  Believe it or not, this was only the first fly-rod of the trip to be broken pulling out a snag like that. The next day, relegated to using my 5 weight fly-rod I broke the tip off doing the same thing!! I was pulling on the line with my hand to get the snag out when the tip of the rod broke off. I must admit, I’m pretty confused by how it happened. If anyone reading this now or in the future has had this same issue, I would love to hear your feedback!

The second morning we arrived at the fishing hole at 6:30 AM. It took two hours, but finally I hooked up with a large red on my 5-weight fly rod. The rod had a far different feel than the stiff 9-weight. It bent hilt to tip fighting the strong salmon in the current. Back and forth it went in the current. Twice it almost wrapped up in the alders on the bank which surely would have released it. I drug it away from there each time. After 5 minutes of play,  I tired the fish, but the rod did not have enough strength to pull the fish upstream. Andy headed downstream with the net and scooped up the fish. Just for the record, I thought he might knock it off 😉

When you are not catching fish, you can always admire the scenery! Thanks to Kassie for this picture :)
When you are not catching fish, you can always admire the scenery! Thanks to Kassie for this picture 🙂
I drug in this Klutina River Red on my 5 weight fly rod - unfortunately, that rod broke too! :|
I drug in this Klutina River Red on my 5 weight fly rod – unfortunately, that rod broke too! 😐

The fish was the last red to be pulled from the Klutina River. All four of us regarded the trip as a huge success. We could not help  but to appreciate the destiny-like chain of events that led up to our catches and feel thankful for it. The old woman at the gas-station, the couple on the bridge, and George, the old man who out-fished us with his forty-two years of knowledge, made it all happen. I felt George was passing the torch to us like we were his grandchildren. His feeling that he would not be on the stream again was sobering, as it was obvious how much fishing meant to him.

I dedicate this blog entry to George and to all who’s kindness  and patience direct their recipients to success. We all know who you are.

Seeing the Cycle : The Pink Salmon of Valdez

Everyone has heard about the salmon runs of Alaska. Kids grow up watching or reading National Geographic specials premiering leaping salmon and an eager bear mouth hanging open at the tops of raging rapids waiting for a fish to land in it. These iconic salmon runs are one of the great migrations of Alaska and each year the input of nutrients from dying salmon fuels an entire ecosystem, and caught, drying salmon feed entire villages. The images and videos of an Alaskan salmon run prime the imagination, but to see a great run of salmon roiling over each other is an incredible spectacle!

At the Solomon Gulch Fish Hatchery tens-of-thousands of pink salmon build up in the small river mouth. These fish are the result of up to 230,000,000 pink salmon eggs the hatchery is permitted to incubate. The average return of salmon is 10,000,000 individuals! The fish – like all salmon- are trying to reach their place of birth even it it happens to be the fish hatchery. In the waters below the a long, metal structure which directs the fish into the hatchery, fish roil, boil, and splash downstream of the weir. The weir also keeps the salmon from running up Solomon Gulch, which is only used as a fresh water source and is far to small to hold all of the running fish.

The fish are chaotic, but are still conscious of their surroundings and skiddish. As you walk up to the shore a mere feet the salmon, they scatter as if you were a bear. Pink salmon have a different life cycle than their larger cousins like chinooks, cohos, and chum. The fish mature in 2 years and there are genetically distinct ‘odd’ and ‘even’ year populations because ‘odd’ and ‘even’ year fish do not breed with each other. In general pink salmon do not travel as far upstream as other salmon – usually no further than 40 miles. However, certain rivers have pink salmon which can travel 250 miles. The large breeding hump has earned them the nickname ‘humpies’ (http://www.adfg.alaska.gov/?adfg=pinksalmon.main)

The gallery below attempts to capture the chaos of salmon rolling over salmon. Faces with wild eyes appeared and disappeared below the surface as they jockeyed for position in the current. The staggering number of fish is inconceivable and becomes even more so if you think of how many other rivers run in Alaska with the same, strong numbers.

The salmon provide food for many animals; bear crossing signs along the river are a constant warning to stay out of the way when the bruins appear. In the hatchery area, several Steller Sea Lions harvested salmon in nature’s equivalent of fast food. Every brown-fur head to submerge below the surface resulted in a small wall of water from the fleeing salmon. Pictured below, a large male caused panic among the pinks as he repeatably dove and came up with fish. When he emerged with a  flopping salmon, it was thrashed against the surface pulling it apart to be consumed and leaving scraps in the water for begging gulls. This behavior mimicked the behavior or the California Sea Lion that we observed last year.

This short video captures some of the sound, chaos, and power of the running salmon, the sea-side, and shows a full hunting sequence of a Steller Sea Lion!

A hunting stellar's sealion is a dangerous thing for salmon. They try to get away as fast as possible!
A hunting steller sealion is a dangerous thing for salmon. They try to get away as fast as possible!
A gull scopes out what's left of this pink salmon - is there any left for it??
A gull scopes out what’s left of this pink salmon – is there any left for it??
Stellar's Sealions are not the only ones which benefit from dinner. This glacous-winged gull is waiting for an easy meal.
Steller Sealions are not the only ones which benefit from dinner. This glacous-winged gull is waiting for an easy meal.
A stellar lion comes up with an easy meal of pink salmon below the weird at the Solomon Gulch Fish Hatchery.
A steller sea lion comes up with an easy meal of pink salmon below the weird at the Solomon Gulch Fish Hatchery.
A black-legged kittiwake takes a break from swooping over the pink salmon stacked up behind the weir.
A black-legged kittiwake takes a break from swooping over the pink salmon stacked up behind the weir.
Black-legged Kittiwakes nesting below the bridge at the hatchery.
Black-legged Kittiwakes nesting below the bridge at the hatchery.
A glacous winged-gull surveys the sea of salmon.
A glacous winged-gull surveys the sea of salmon.

Of course the fishing for the pink salmon was almost a fish a cast! You cannot fish near the weir, but that hardly mattered. Fish rose throughout the bay and could be easily fished from shore. Although many salmon ‘lose’ their appetite as they head up stream the fish will still hit spoons from time to time. Unfortunately its inevitable to snag a few too. All of the pink salmon were released because they do not taste good.

Kass with her first Alaskan Salmon!
Kass with her first Alaskan Salmon!
Fishing success! This pink salmon was drug from the stream running into the original Valdez.
Fishing success! This pink salmon was drug from the stream running into the original Valdez.
Kassie and Jenny pose with a gorgeous pair of pink salmon caught out of Valdez bay.
Kassie and Jenny pose with a gorgeous pair of pink salmon caught out of Valdez bay.
Pink salmon caught outside around Valdez
Pink salmon caught outside around Valdez
The thumbs up and fish say it all. A great trip to Valdez!
The thumbs up and fish say it all. A great trip to Valdez!