spectr17
10-20-2002, 11:49 PM
Sensational Little Su
Mat-Su Borough river retains its wilderness charm
By S.J. Komarnitsky, Anchorage Daily News
May 16, 2002
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A pair of anglers weigh their silver salmon at the Little Susitna River public use boat launch. (Stephen Nowers / Anchorage Daily News)
ALONG THE LITTLE SUSITNA RIVER -- The orange tinge of sunrise was still fading, but the bite was already on.
Early birds filleted fresh silver salmon, scooting the remains down a metal sluice, where hungry seagulls snatched up gooey morsels. The parking lot, at the end of a long but mostly paved ribbon of a road, was packed with wader-clad fishermen gathering up poles and nets. Some boats idled near the launch ready to take them in search of the best holes, while drivers jockeyed for a place at the loading ramp.
It was a scene one would expect to find at a premier Southcentral salmon stream. The Little Su brings in more anglers than any other river in the Matanuska-Susitna Borough and supports a silver run second only to the Kenai River's.
The Little Susitna draws the same crowds of people and boats as other popular road-accessible fisheries. But it has held on to a part of fishing often lost in Alaska's harried salmon season: the experience.
The Little Su is a rare gem, a stream within a couple of hours' drive of Anchorage that has a wilderness feel. What passes for combat fishing here can be two or three anglers in the same hole.
"It's just really peaceful," Bev Schmidt, a mental health specialist from Anchorage, said while she helped carve fresh ruby-red fillets. "You can go off and find your own little spot."
Even when the lot is full and the boats are busy, there are still 70 miles of river open to salmon fishing from the river mouth to the Parks Highway bridge near Houston.
Most of that winds through wild country, lined with chest-high grass and a tangle of alder and willow. Anyone with a fishing pole can find a sand bar, a shady spot and a deep hole below a cutbank to cast a Pixee or a Mepp's spinner or a gob of eggs on a bobber.
"It's a beautiful little river," said Kelly White, an Anchorage airport technician who has fished the Little Susitna for several years.
The Little Susitna rushes from headwaters at Mint Glacier in the Talkeetna Mountains near Hatcher Pass, then slows and bends across the lowlands. From the air, the stream looks like a snake, with twisting hairpin turns that nearly double back. The lower river takes 28 miles to cover just 12 miles on the map.
Those bends create deep, slow water where fish like to rest and anglers can concentrate their efforts. The number of fishing holes is anything but limited.
"You can catch fish on just about every bend, and you've got so much river to spread out on," said Andy Couch, a guide who has been fishing the river for more than two decades.
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River guide Andy Couch carries a cooler of his clients' fish from his boat to the cleaning station at the Little Susitna public use facility. Silver salmon return by the thousands to the river each summer. (Photo by Stephen Nowers / Daily News file photo)
Most of the people fishing here are locals and their relatives or friends, said Greg Acord, one of about 15 guides who run the river.
One day last summer, those visitors included missionaries from North Carolina, a couple from Los Angeles and a woman from Fargo, N.D., who created her own fish dance and song in lieu of catching fish.
Joni Duckworth wasn't disappointed because the rest of her family, including her son Jackson, had caught salmon.
"He had his own song," she said.
Still, this is a salmon river and has its problems. Foot and boat traffic are causing some bank erosion. There's a long-standing debate about the size and speed of some of the boats and whether the time has come for some limits.
Two years ago, two men were hospitalized after two boats collided on a hairpin turn, said state parks ranger Monte Smith, who patrols the river.
Bank anglers can get frustrated by the number of boats zipping past. And like nearly everywhere else in Alaska, the management of the fish run is hotly debated.
But the runs have remained pretty healthy, and the river offers a chance for peace and quiet, away from the parking lot, as well as the chance to fish without going to a lot of trouble.
Hundreds of fishermen spread out along the river. One man dressed in shorts fished from the bank. A group of kids nearby splashed about in their underwear while their father fished. At the launch, boats gleamed in the afternoon sunshine and fresh-caught silvers sparkled.
(Reporter S.J. Komarnitsky can be reached at skomarnitsky@adn.com or 907-352-6711. This story was published May 19, 2002, in the Anchorage Daily News.)
Mat-Su Borough river retains its wilderness charm
By S.J. Komarnitsky, Anchorage Daily News
May 16, 2002
http://www.adn.com/ips_rich_content/875-f_scale_216x143-sty.jpg
A pair of anglers weigh their silver salmon at the Little Susitna River public use boat launch. (Stephen Nowers / Anchorage Daily News)
ALONG THE LITTLE SUSITNA RIVER -- The orange tinge of sunrise was still fading, but the bite was already on.
Early birds filleted fresh silver salmon, scooting the remains down a metal sluice, where hungry seagulls snatched up gooey morsels. The parking lot, at the end of a long but mostly paved ribbon of a road, was packed with wader-clad fishermen gathering up poles and nets. Some boats idled near the launch ready to take them in search of the best holes, while drivers jockeyed for a place at the loading ramp.
It was a scene one would expect to find at a premier Southcentral salmon stream. The Little Su brings in more anglers than any other river in the Matanuska-Susitna Borough and supports a silver run second only to the Kenai River's.
The Little Susitna draws the same crowds of people and boats as other popular road-accessible fisheries. But it has held on to a part of fishing often lost in Alaska's harried salmon season: the experience.
The Little Su is a rare gem, a stream within a couple of hours' drive of Anchorage that has a wilderness feel. What passes for combat fishing here can be two or three anglers in the same hole.
"It's just really peaceful," Bev Schmidt, a mental health specialist from Anchorage, said while she helped carve fresh ruby-red fillets. "You can go off and find your own little spot."
Even when the lot is full and the boats are busy, there are still 70 miles of river open to salmon fishing from the river mouth to the Parks Highway bridge near Houston.
Most of that winds through wild country, lined with chest-high grass and a tangle of alder and willow. Anyone with a fishing pole can find a sand bar, a shady spot and a deep hole below a cutbank to cast a Pixee or a Mepp's spinner or a gob of eggs on a bobber.
"It's a beautiful little river," said Kelly White, an Anchorage airport technician who has fished the Little Susitna for several years.
The Little Susitna rushes from headwaters at Mint Glacier in the Talkeetna Mountains near Hatcher Pass, then slows and bends across the lowlands. From the air, the stream looks like a snake, with twisting hairpin turns that nearly double back. The lower river takes 28 miles to cover just 12 miles on the map.
Those bends create deep, slow water where fish like to rest and anglers can concentrate their efforts. The number of fishing holes is anything but limited.
"You can catch fish on just about every bend, and you've got so much river to spread out on," said Andy Couch, a guide who has been fishing the river for more than two decades.
http://www.adn.com/ips_rich_content/171-f_boats_216x143.jpg
River guide Andy Couch carries a cooler of his clients' fish from his boat to the cleaning station at the Little Susitna public use facility. Silver salmon return by the thousands to the river each summer. (Photo by Stephen Nowers / Daily News file photo)
Most of the people fishing here are locals and their relatives or friends, said Greg Acord, one of about 15 guides who run the river.
One day last summer, those visitors included missionaries from North Carolina, a couple from Los Angeles and a woman from Fargo, N.D., who created her own fish dance and song in lieu of catching fish.
Joni Duckworth wasn't disappointed because the rest of her family, including her son Jackson, had caught salmon.
"He had his own song," she said.
Still, this is a salmon river and has its problems. Foot and boat traffic are causing some bank erosion. There's a long-standing debate about the size and speed of some of the boats and whether the time has come for some limits.
Two years ago, two men were hospitalized after two boats collided on a hairpin turn, said state parks ranger Monte Smith, who patrols the river.
Bank anglers can get frustrated by the number of boats zipping past. And like nearly everywhere else in Alaska, the management of the fish run is hotly debated.
But the runs have remained pretty healthy, and the river offers a chance for peace and quiet, away from the parking lot, as well as the chance to fish without going to a lot of trouble.
Hundreds of fishermen spread out along the river. One man dressed in shorts fished from the bank. A group of kids nearby splashed about in their underwear while their father fished. At the launch, boats gleamed in the afternoon sunshine and fresh-caught silvers sparkled.
(Reporter S.J. Komarnitsky can be reached at skomarnitsky@adn.com or 907-352-6711. This story was published May 19, 2002, in the Anchorage Daily News.)