All five of the Pacific salmon have a common name, and a really common name. Chinook salmon are also called kings. Coho are also called silvers. Sockeye are reds. Pink salmon are also called humpies. Alas, the poor chum salmon, whose common name conjures up images of ground-up fish gruel used to attract sharks, are also known as dog salmon. This name stems from the practice of using chum salmon as dog food… so in at least one respect, both of these monikers end up more or less in the same linguistic place – ground-up fish gruel… one for attracting sharks, the other for feeding sled dogs.

Chums get no respect.

In many places in Alaska, the run of pinks and chums more or less coincide with each other. These runs also coincide with the silver salmon run, and often people will be actively fishing for silvers, but catching pinks and chums. Most people don’t keep the pinks – by the time they reach fresh water, their flesh is quickly deteriorating in quality, and since people prefer the silvers, they toss the pinks back. Almost nobody keeps chums. Chums are for dog food. Nobody eats dog food.

Yesterday we were fishing (for silvers) and catching a lot of chums. They may not be the choice for the table, but I tell you what, they sure are strong. They’re not jumpers, they’re pullers. Pullers and head-shakers. They’re aggressive and take lures readily. They can get quite large. They’re colorful. The lure of choice is typically a Pixie or a Vibrax, and this is exactly the lure you’d be using for fishing for silvers. Unfortunately, chums are so strong that they often straighten the hooks on the lures! So when you’re fishing for silvers and hook a chum, you often experience the double-disappointment of catching an undesirable fish and having to retire your favorite lure, because the hooks are ruined!

When I was fishing this weekend, I had a couple of guests with me from the East Coast. Neither had ever caught a salmon before. The silvers were being elusive, but the chums cooperated, and both of my friends landed hard-fighting chums. It is an experience I am sure they won’t forget.

After my friends left, the rest of our fishing party started to discuss how chums really need another name… something that doesn’t conjure images of ground-up fish gruel. The commercial fish people have done just that, and when you see chums in the supermarket, you’ll see them under the name “silverbrite” salmon. Seems a little misleading, doesn’t it?

In the spirit of full disclosure, until yesterday, I had been disparaging the chums myself, by grouping them together with pinks, and calling them “humpies and chumpies”. But I am past all that – I have seen the error of my ways, and now I have a new-found respect for them. I may not want to catch them and take them home and cook them… but as fighters, they’re top notch.

So, we narrowed down our new name for chums to two choices. Which do you prefer?

Alaskan River Marlins or Tiger Tuna?

I did something this year that I hadn’t done in the past… I bought a ticket for the PSEA Matsu Valley King Salmon Derby. If you’re not familiar with the concept of a fishing derby, the basic idea is you purchase a ticket (in advance) and then you check-in and weigh the fish you catch, and you are eligible for prizes.

In past years, I hadn’t purchased a derby ticket, and in most years I catch some pretty respectable fish. Last year I caught a fifty pounder, and the year before, a forty-eight pounder. These fish aren’t winners, but they’re close… I figured if I put the time in, and focused on catching a really big fish, I’d have a good shot at the top prizes.

What a mistake.

So I started fishing hard in June, and I caught four king salmon… But I released them all, because they were too small.

Then it happened… with three weeks left in the season, the Alaska Department of Fish and Game closed the rest of the king salmon season. The numbers of returning kings was so small, they were concerned about making sure that there were enough fish to spawn.

When fishing closed, I hadn’t kept a single fish… and I realized that I hadn’t really enjoyed fishing all that much. Fishing, when there is money (or prizes) on the line… and making a choice to compete for them, is a lot more like work than fishing.

Don’t get me wrong… fishing derbies can be fun, and in Alaska, they raise money for some great charities. But doing what I did was a mistake. I thought it would be fun, but it wasn’t near as much fun as just fishing would have been.

It is rather unusual – the number of bears that are in regular view of guests and residents alike here in Alaska this year.

I first moved to Alaska in 1986, and other than in places like Denali National Park, where the chances of seeing a bear are rather high*, I don’t think I saw more than one or two bears in my first twenty years here. Since then, the bear population seems to be either getting larger, or moving to town, because they are much more obvious than in the past. Already this year I have seen at least six bears, including one very close encounter.

The first picture was taken from about 30 yards. We came around a turn and found the bear and immediately turned back. The bear followed us down the trail and challenged us, looking for fish. We retreated down the trail, but he followed and came within 10 feet of us. We were finally able to negotiate some distance between the bear and us when I snapped the last two pictures.

Bear sightings and bear-people encounters have become a daily event. Even in Anchorage, which is urban by any standard, bears are seen with regularity. In the past, most of the bear sightings have been along the fringes of the city east of town, where the Chugach Mountains come down to the floor of the Anchorage Bowl. However, the bears are now traveling down the greenbelts that surround the creeks that come out of the mountains and flow into Cook Inlet. Just this morning, a male brown bear was hit by an SUV at 4 AM, on one of Anchorage’s major thoroughfares.

Alaskans are of two minds with all the bears on the loose. On one hand, I think we all like to see the large wild animals wander around the city, and a moose in our back yard or a bear running down the street is usually something that brings a smile to many Alaskans faces. On the other hand, the close calls, and especially, the serious injuries that have occurred in several bear-human confrontations have chased a lot of joggers and hikers out of the woods.

The problem with all of this is that often times, the losers are the bears. The frequency of bear-human confrontation, and the inadvertent positive reinforcement that goes with it (I saw a bear, so I threw my fish and ran – showing bears that they can intimidate humans into feeding them) teaches bears habits that ultimately lead to their destruction.

In a perfect world, we would see lots of bears… off in the distance, doing what bears do. Instead, we’re seeing bears as we drive to work at 4 AM, or when we’re cutting wood, or when we’re walking our dogs, or biking or jogging. The bears are, for the most part, doing what bears do. People should do what people do – think, and be careful, because our back yards are becoming bear country.

* Most visitors to Denali National Park see grizzly bears – but usually from quite a distance, and from the relative safety of a park shuttle bus.

I am a pretty hard-core fisherperson, and I fish a lot with my extended family. My girlfriend’s brother is a very active fisherman, and I spend a lot of time fishing with him.

He’s having a rough year fishing this year.

So far this year, I’ve landed four king salmon, and kept two. I’ve hooked and lost probably five more, and I don’t think I’ve had a day fishing where I didn’t fight at least one fish.

He’s had none. No fish landed, no fish on, no fish lost.

When we fish, we usually fish together, sharing fishing holes, etc. But he’s been rather magnanimous about letting me have what we would consider the favored spots. Ultimately, I don’t think that matters, and it certainly isn’t making a difference between me catching fish and him not catching fish. But I can’t help but think now that maybe I should make sure he gets the favored spots, at least for a while.

We’re going fishing this weekend… And perhaps before then. I’ll keep you posted.

Immediately east of Anchorage is the Chugach Mountains. The first ridge that overlooks the city has peaks to about 3500 feet; head deeper into the mountains and the peaks get taller, and eventually you reach the glaciers of the Chugach Mountains.

About this time of year, we’ll get a rainy, foggy day, and when we get up the next morning, the tops of the peaks will have a fresh coating of snow. Alaskans call this “termination dust”, which is a reference to the end of summer. Termination dust comes and goes several times in late August and September, before the snows settle in here at sea level, usually on a Saturday morning, when we have some outdoor chore, or even worse, a fishing trip planned. The phenomenon is the same in other parts of the state. In Fairbanks, the White Mountains just north and northeast of town will gather a mantle of snow a few weeks before the snows reach the floor of the Tanana Valley.

In Denali National Park, the situation is a little different. The mountains there are quite a bit taller, and most of the park, including the area along the park road is around the 3000 to 4000 feet, so when there’s termination dust on the Chugach Mountains, there’s snow on the park road in Denali. This is an important thing to remember when you’re out in the elements in Alaska; especially in the fall, but in fact, it is important anytime. When it is raining on you, it is snowing just a few thousand feet above your head, and in Alaska, a nice sunny day can become rainy very quickly, and an unexpected heavy shower might have a few hailstones, then a few more, then a few flakes of snow, and before you know it, you have a cold, wet mess.

I was on a moose hunting trip a few years back. We traveled by boat for about 15 miles, and we spent the better part of the month of September at our camp. We hunted the last day of the season. It was a beautiful fall day, with temperatures in the low 50’s. We went into our tents that night, ready to break camp and go home the next day. I woke up around 7 AM, and I heard some dripping on the tent.I was eager to make some coffee and some breakfast, so I started to get dressed and go to our campfire and get the fire started. I unzipped my tent, and was greeted by the sight of six inches of snow.

First snow of the year at Kashwitna Lake near Willow.

I made my coffee, and we broke camp, and rode in the boat for 15 miles in the cold and miserable snow all the way back to town.

Any day now, the Chugach Mountains will get another coating of snow, and Alaskans will moan and complain about how summer was short, and winter is coming. The truth is, winter comes when it wants to come, and summer is really just on loan to us, and we’re going to have to pay that loan back… Any day now.

Last fall, after the visitor season was over, I took the family down to Florida for a week. I had never been to the Florida Keys, and I had always wanted to see them. We originally planned to camp at one of the state parks near Marathon, but Hurricane Wilma did quite a bit of damage, and the park was not available for camping.

Rather than cancel the trip, I decided to do some research and try to find a place for us to spend the week. I found an apartment with two bedrooms and a kitchen, and it actually fit our party of four very nicely.

When I arrived there, and it was time to check in, the first thing I noticed was the number of small signs that were posted everywhere. There was one on the door that said that said that vehicles that did not belong to a registered guest would be towed. There were a number of other ones, too, but I don’t remember what they said.

I went into the office to register. The person was business-like, and had a contract for me to review and sign. Since I actually work in the hospitality industry, I read the contract thoroughly, both because it is a good idea, and because I wanted to see if there was anything that people in Florida were doing differently than what I had come to expect in Alaska.

The contract stated that they would charge my credit card for the entire stay at the time that I registered, and that if I left early, there would be no refund. This was acceptable for me, because this is one of the conditions that I require, too. However, it would have been good to have been advised of this in advance. There was a list of “Thou shalt nots…” having to do with damages and noise… nothing that I thought was unreasonable. I signed the contract, was given a couple of keys, and we went off to our apartment.

The apartment was very nice. There were two bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ceiling fan, air conditioning, cable television and a balcony with a view of the Gulf of Mexico. The kitchen was at least passably supplied, with a stove and microwave, dishes, pots and pans, glasses, etc. At this point, I noticed a sign posted in several places in the kitchen. The sign said that if we left dirty dishes, we would be charged a $200 cleaning fee.

As you might imagine, after a flight across the continent and a drive from Miami to Marathon, it was time to visit the bathroom. When I walked in, I was greeted by a sign that said that if the bathroom towels were used for spills, or were otherwise stained, there would be a $50 replacement charge.

Now I am the first to admit that I pay attention to these kinds of details more than most. However, I was feeling a bit uncomfortable at the constant reminders that I should definitely not make myself at home. I don’t think that any of the things on the signs were in any way unreasonable. In fact, they are completely reasonable. However, there are other ways to let your guests know about these conditions.

Every time I walked in the bathroom to take a shower, or washed dishes in the kitchen, there was that reminder, and it ate at me. I know that I am overly sensitive about such things, but I can’t help but feel that other guests would be similarly uncomfortable, but just not know what they were uncomfortable about.

Now that I was sensitized to the little things, I noticed that the owner spent a lot of his day riding around on his golf cart. Admittedly there was still a lot of cleanup to be done after the hurricane (notice that some of the trees look dead or brown from being flooded with seawater). However, he was a lot more about riding in the cart and supervising than about cleaning up.

The place itself was very nice, and we did have a very good time while we were there. However, there are certainly ways that the owner could have presented his conditions that would have actually been a positive experience. Guests expect that there are conditions and penalties related to their stay. Informing the guests about the payment and cancellation policies in advance is a start. Taking the time to explain the damage penalties, rather than just putting a piece of paper in front of you and having you sign it is another. Having someone take a moment to walk you through your apartment and remind guests about washing the dishes and not staining the towels would be a third. Letting the guests enjoy their vacation rather than reading and re-reading every little condition is a fourth.

I am sure that there are some of you out there reading this thinking that I am just way too uptight about this. However, you can tell from my experience what this particular host is focused on. I never actually met the owner — he never took the time to introduce himself to me, even though I was there for a week. This experience left an impression with me, in part because one of the criteria by which I choose vendors is the way they treat their guests. All of my vendors have very nice places, and they have their own policies and penalties. But they are also very focused on making sure that you have a great time. I have lots of opportunities to visit properties and speak with hosts. I am impressed when they talk about the guests experience, and put off when they focus on the money.

My vendors make their livings by making sure that their guests are not just satisfied, but have a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The same is true for me. If that isn’t the most important thing to a vendor, I don’t use them.

One of my most lasting memories of my first visit to Alaska was the view out the window of a van as I was heading back to Anchorage to leave. It was September, and late in the afternoon, and we were driving south near the intersection of the Parks Highway and the Glenn Highway. The weather was rainy, and there really wasn’t much to see in terms of scenery, because of all the clouds and fog. [This area is actually quite scenic, with views of the Chugach and Talkeetna Mountains.] At the time, the roads here were two lane roads with at-grade intersections. Today the road is expressway, with interstate highway-style interchanges.

What was memorable was the crossing of the Knik River. The river originates at the Knik Glacier, 20 or 30 miles east of where it crosses under the road. Like all glacial rivers, the silt load is tremendous, and the water is as opaque as chocolate milk. The water was grey, the sky was grey, and the boundary between the two was almost invisible, as if the sky and water and fog melted together into a single impenetrable blob. This probably sounds unappealing, but for a kid from the east coast, where glacial rivers are something you read about in a book, this was a fascinating experience and strangely beautiful scene.

It is raining today here in Anchorage, and Alaskans far and wide are complaining about the weather. But I think if you dig a little deeper, you’ll find that most of us are really rather spoiled. We do get our rainy days, especially at this time of year, but a weekend is a weekend, and we’ll all still probably go fishing, or visit our cabin, or go four-wheeling, or whatever our weekend plans are. If we catch that monster silver salmon, we’ll quickly forget that it was raining. If we sit in our cabin and finish that mystery novel we’ve been meaning to read, the weekend will be a success. And as we drive down the road, and see trailer after trailer of muddy four-wheelers heading back home on Sunday afternoon, you won’t hear their owners complaining about the rain, but rather the fun they had splashing through all the puddles and mud.

Alaska in the summer is about being outdoors. When it rains, we complain, but when it is sunny and 75, we complain that we have to put on sun screen and that it is too hot.

I guess there isn’t a perfect Alaskan day… but on a scale from one to ten, almost all of them are a nine.