I receive my fair share of correspondence as editor of Fish Alaska, nearly all of it encouraging, but every now and then we get a letter like this, touched with a small slice of that peculiar love affair Alaskans have always carried on with the state’s waters, honest and heartfelt, and if anything, a sturdy reminder of why we fish and how we came to start. For that reason and more, I thought it best to share the letter here.

In this case, there is added significance, because it relates strongly to a couple of the features in the upcoming issue as well, namely Stan Cunningham’s often poignant, sometimes nostalgic recounting of a decade of Alaska fishing adventures with his daughter, Addie. Both that article and the letter should also add weight to many of the suggestions offered by Scott Haugen as he extols the virtues of the pink salmon as a sport fish, for one of the species greatest virtues as a freshwater target is how well it lends itself to the beginning angler, creating those crucial first memories and helping to build the kind of angling dreams that will ensure tomorrow’s Alaskans are just as passionate about their water and their fish as all of us are today.

Dear Troy,

As a cover-to-cover reader of nearly everything I can get my hands on, I felt compelled for whatever reason to respond to your editorial, Steelhead Madness, in the April 2006 issue. I am writing not to be known or recognized but as an anecdote to your editorial.

With interest I began to read your editorial and then noticed the word Staney Creek—that is all it took. Years ago, late 60s and early 70s, I had the privilege of fishing places like Staney Creek, the Klawock River, Yes Bay, and the Situk, though unbeknownst to me at the time was just how special these places are. Your editorial brought back memories, which until now I had not linked to the present. 

Since my earlier forays, I’ve grown older, done a fair amount of guiding, one-on-one style, and in the midst of it all got my daughter a quality fly rod and reel for her college graduation some years back. With another degree, she got another setup—good quality ones, but since I am not a wealthy individual, they’re not top of the line. As a youngster and then through the years as she grew up, my daughter would go with me, both when production fishing (rod-and-reel missions to put salmon on the table) and during my fly-fishing forays, which were conducted on the side. Ultimately she became interested in fly-fishing herself, met friends of her age who were interested in the same, and she was hooked.

Since then we’ve tried to mix in some fishing when we can together, and a few days ago, she called me and said, “Dad, you know this year, come fall, we are going to have to take some time to go steelhead fishing.”

That one sentence floored me, and honestly, a tear came to my eye. Engrossed in a dog team and working to support both the addictions of sled dogs and fly-fishing, we are not high-budget candidates who can afford to visit the kinds of places I once frequented, but her one sentence meant so much that I cannot begin to describe the feeling. Your editorial struck me, and no doubt she and I will be on the Anchor come fall.

And yes, on the high road as you reference. I often fish in a very competitive environment but respect others’ feelings as I’ve been there many a time before, generally able to find a unique niche and often, learn something new. So as a proverbial student, thank you for your editorial.

Sincerely yours,
Bob Chlupach
Willow, AK