One of the greatest trophy trout fisheries in the world, the Iliamna system wears the crown of Alaska’s sport fishing.

No kingdom can be complete without its crown jewels, and if Alaska truly reigns as the monarch of North America’s angling destinations, the state’s signature gemstone would have to be the Iliamna system.

Centered upon mighty Lake Iliamna, the drainage represents the sum of the Alaska freshwater fishing experience—wild and remote rivers, popular hotspots filled with lore, salmon runs of mind-boggling proportions, hefty and numerous resident fish, bald eagles, caribou, moose, bears, and even a rare population of freshwater seals. The lake itself serves as the headwaters of the Kvichak and as the terminus for similarly famous streams like both Talarik creeks and the Copper, Gibraltar, Newhalen, and Iliamna rivers.

Alaska’s largest lake, it stretches some 90 miles long and at points, 50 miles wide, making it about the size of Lake Erie, and it is surrounded by Native communities like Igiugig, Kakhonak, Pedro Bay, and Newhalen, today’s residents direct descendents of the people who gathered in these exact spots thousands of years ago in search of Iliamna’s seasonal bounty.

It’s the largest sockeye salmon nursery in the world, with annual runs measured in the tens of millions. And it’s also home to one of the greatest trophy trout fisheries on the planet, the first drainage in Alaska to officially receive such a designation from state management biologists.

Our adventure begins on the northeast side of the lake, where the venerable Guth’s Lodge is located, about a mile and a half upstream from the confluence of the Iliamna River with the lake of the same name. It’s quite a scenic spot, combining a panoramic view of both the river and the stately Chigmit Mountains beyond. Naturally, it is also a very peaceful location, off the beaten path and private, with little competition to expect from other anglers.

The operation is a family business, as the Guth’s have been guiding for over 50 years and four generations, first in Idaho and now Alaska. Marty and his brother Merlin grew up helping their dad Norm and now have taken the reins at the lodge. Also present, in addition to Norm and Marty, are Marty’s wife, Deena, and their sons Tony and Brad. Their oldest son Kenny will be a guide at the lodge in 2006.

Overall, the accommodations are good, with comfortable beds, private bathrooms, and hot showers to look forward to after a long day of fishing. Deena was responsible for the food and it was outstanding, so good that her spiced pork tenderloin and stuffed jalapeno peppers still haunt my dreams. We never ate a meal that wasn’t worth seconds—and this held true for everyone there.

Our first day of fishing will be spent chasing rainbows and Dollies on the Iliamna River. The river is gin clear, with a freestone and pea-gravel bottom, and is about 100 feet across at its widest. It is buffered on both sides with stands of cottonwood and willow. There is little debris to worry about in the water and ample room on the banks for casting. While we are at the lodge from August 12-14, typically a rainy period for southwest Alaska, we find ourselves blessed with cloudless, 75-degree weather. This makes the rainbow fishing a little more difficult than usual for these waters, but at the same, these fish are far less educated than your average road-system trout.

After a 30-minute boat ride to the lodge from Pedro Bay, we travel about 45 minutes upriver to good trout water. There is an unbroken line of sockeye most of the way from the mouth of the river to where we will fish. They have reached spawning color and as such, we will drift 8 mm beads to the hungry trout. We find the Apricot, Peach Pearl, and Salmon colors from troutbeads.com to work very well. As a case in point, I found two big trout circling in a slough that was choked full of salmon. I switched to a mouse pattern and began dropping the fly in the right spots to intercept these marauders. On most casts, one or the other of the trout would break towards the fly to turn away before striking it. Finally, the larger of the trout had enough of the game and entered the main current. At this point, it promptly struck the bead that Wayne floated to it. When the salmon are spawning, be prepared to match the color and size of the eggs being released.

We fish 6-weight rods with floating line and a 10-foot leader tapered to 4x tippet. We choose to fish without an indicator, but one would work well in this dead-drift scenario. It is easy to sight fish, as the trout are clearly visible and a well-presented bead often results in a hookup. Marty is a fan of the snell knot, as it allows for a stronger connection between hook and line and also puts the hook in a better position to hit fish. We pinch all barbs and use small hooks. By day’s end, Wayne and I have hooked and released an excess of 40 fish from 12 to 24 inches.

On day two, we are in for a special treat. A road was put in by the Army Corps of Engineers during WWII to ship materials from Cook Inlet to the Iliamna area. We begin by taking a 20-minute boat ride to the Pile Bay Bridge that crosses the river and from there it is a 45- minute drive up and over the pass to Williamsport. This place is appropriately named for the Williams family that has been in the area for generations. Once there, we get into a skiff and head out into the saltwater. Our first stop is a place the Guths call “Walk-In.” It is wild Alaska at its best, with jagged rocks, cliff walls, birds, seals, and salmon all present. Wayne and Tony watch the boat and limit it from being pounded into the rocks, while Marty and I hike in to see how many silvers are present. There are many salmon in a large pool, but most are pinks, so we decide to head back into protected water and target the Dollies of Cottonwood River.

Upon reaching the mouth of the river, we can see at least three brown bears foraging for food. Bear tracks and scat are everywhere, and it is clear that the bears are dominant here. These bears are wary of us and steer clear, and we have an uneventful hike to the river. Upon getting there, I begin to dead-drift an 8 mm Peach Pearl behind the schools of spawning sockeye. I am immediately rewarded with the solid take of a hungry Dolly Varden. The commotion created is completely ignored, because a medium-sized brown bear has begun to advance on our position. It appears to be young and is appropriately curious of us. Once it gets within 50 feet, it starts to pace back and forth, before sitting down and scratching its head. It is quite a comical expression from such a respected animal. Finally, our shouts and feet stomping are enough to drive the bear back to its fishing for salmon.

At this point, all four of us begin to fish for Dollies in earnest. We have no trouble spotting and fishing to the abundant char. All are very healthy, strong, and fat, with the largest approaching five pounds. Marty works at getting them to come to the surface and feed and finally lands one on an enticing hopper pattern with rubber legs that seem to draw the attention away from the abundance of eggs. It is an interesting distraction but in the end only reinforces the mantra that when the salmon are spawning, the trout are not looking up.

We also had another Alaska lesson reiterated to us on this day—never count on the weather. When we left and returned to the lodge that day, it was hot, clear, and sunny. But on the coast at the Cottonwood River, it was cloudy and at least 20 degrees colder. Always expect it to be cold and rainy; you can remove clothes when it isn’t.

Our last morning on the river dawns bright and clear. We fish a few new spots farther upriver and they steadily produce nice trout in the 20-inch class. The water is absolutely gin clear, which makes the big trout spooky. For some reason, a little strip of the bead gets them to react favorably. As seems to be my modus operandi on fishing trips, I begin slowly and am catching greater numbers of big fish as the trip builds to a close. It has happened so many times that I can clearly see the pattern. This trip is no exception and in the last twenty minutes, I hook and lose, hook and snap off, and then finally hook and land my biggest trout of the trip.

In retrospect this place was special to me for a number of reasons. For one, the mountains, river, and lake make for a splendid backdrop to the fishing. Secondly, the Guth family are great hosts and good people to meet and spend time with. I often look at how the children act as a representation of the parents. The Guth boys are very well behaved and helpful. Finally, it is remote and secluded, with little pressure from other anglers and good opportunities to catch great numbers of trout and char. These are not the largest trout in Alaska, but certainly large by most worldwide trout standards and the ability to fish in seclusion for these rare gems is a true pleasure.

Marcus Weiner is publisher of Fish Alaska magazine.