Rainbow trout slash the surface of Naknek Lake as arctic terns announce their presence in advance, wheeling in the sky above schools of smolt. The cacophony of shrieks and the reflection of the sun on the backs of big rainbows combine to give us an adrenaline rush that makes it impossible to bend our fly rods to the task at hand.

Mom casts her spinning rod and the green Pixee lands precisely in the froth of feeding fish. A moment later and a two-foot rainbow leaps six feet into the air, furiously shaking its head trying to dislodge the spoon in its mouth. Wayne and I go running.

As we land the trout, her ear-to-ear grin tells the whole story. In most places people fish, a 24-inch trout is one for the ages. In Alaska and on the Naknek at that, a 24-inch fish fades into the background among memories of truly gargantuan trout. But for mom, who appreciates each and every new experience, this trout is one of a lifetime. It leaves her with the same sense of accomplishment and pride that brings many anglers back to Alaska to fish among swarms of bugs,in drenching rain, leaning at a 10-degree angle against 50-knot wind. This is fishing with Mom at its finest.

Later in this fantastic four days at Bear Trail Lodge, Wayne and I land epic 30-inch fish. We hoot and holler through both encounters and both of us fall down in the heat of battle. Our laughter and glee can be heard all the way to Lake Camp. It’s this excitement of living in the moment that I have inherited from Mom. The white sock bites and sore back from long days casting mean nothing in comparison to the thrill of being on the river.

Sadly, a tragic event happened in the Katmai area while we were on this trip. A river system was swollen with water and the river ran high and dangerously swift. A wading angler was swept away in the current and drowned. This event made me examine my own cavalier policies. Rarely do I wear a life jacket when riding in a boat and especially when fishing. On several occasions over the last decade, I have waded beyond the point of safety, and on one occasion was swept downriver. I was lucky to regain a foothold, but the situation could have been much worse. I have become painfully aware of the potential for danger and will not wade in dangerous water without floatation again. Hopefully many of you will realize, if you have not already, that Alaska is an unforgiving place and an appropriate factor of safety need be applied to activities in the wild.

It’s with this in mind that I find myself motoring downriver with Melissa, Wayne, and Mom. Our time together is always grand—from self-guided floats down the Kenai, to saltwater fishing in Ketchikan and Prince of Wales, to king salmon fishing on Lake Creek, Mom is pretty much game for anything. My sister and I are truly blessed to have such a loving and supportive mother, and to explore new places fishing with her is quite a treat. She is a world traveler and delights in new destinations—be it an island in the Caribbean, mainland China, or King Salmon, Alaska. She had a wonderful time with Morry and Donnalee Moorcroft, as have I each and every time I visit. Hopefully we’ll see you there, either enjoying a fine meal at the lodge or on the river catching rainbow trout. In both places, we live for the moment and it’s here that you will find me.

It’s Mom’s “Life is Too Short” mantra that I live by. lt’s reminding me again that life is too short—that I have inherited from Mom, her mantra.

—Marcus Weiner
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