This summer marks the first time that Bird, Ship and Campbell creek anglers of Southcentral Alaska will land silver salmon raised inside the $98 million William Jack Hernandez Hatchery, a 141,000 square-foot facility in Anchorage that opened in June of 2011. Some 110,000 coho smolts were released into Bird Creek last July.
Ugly but tasty fish looks like something out of a Jules Verne novel, and in Alaska they can get big. The state record is an 81-pound lingcod caught a dozen years ago.
Some Alaska sportfishers and dipnetters believe clubbing is the most ethical way to control flopping salmon and quickly get them out of the dipnet. But others contend it harms the quality of the fish flesh.
Angler Rudy Tsukada is no athlete, but the self-admitted desk jockey loves chasing salmon, halibut and rockfish from his ultra-stable 12-foot Hobie Outback. He finds the ease and convenience of kayak fishing addictive.
Grayling can be found in just about any mountain creek, roadside lake or large glacial lake in Alaska. They like water thats cold and clean. They also tend to be an angler favorite, with their propensity to strike a variety of flies, spoons, and spinners.
High in the Kenai Mountains and miles from the daily urban grind live Arctic grayling, a species of fish so beautiful that catching one can momentarily make time stand still.
Homer's Nick Dudiak Fishing Lagoon -- better known as the Fishing Hole -- is the poor man's charter boat, a place where anglers can fish from the shore for kings, silvers and even Dolly Varden.
A mixed martial arts fighter uses his skills to take down a 21-pound king salmon at Ship Creek, where the chinook action appears to be better than recent years.
During peak steelhead fishing season in April and May, angling can be so productive that anglers have bragged to Miller that theyve landed 10 to 20 fish in a day.
One common denominator among the tales from this year's Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race: bravery. Dogs pulled drivers and drivers pulled dogs through brutally strong winds and across slippery glare ice along the southern coast of the Seward Peninsula.
The brutality of this year's Iditarod showed in Martin Buser's every movement and every word Tuesday. A race-toughened veteran of 31 Iditarods, Buser looked ready to collapse, cry or do both upon reaching Nome in sixth place.
About 11 miles outside Unalkaleet, snowmachiner Dave Branholm was curious to find a team stopped along the Iditarod Trail. It was Iditarod musher Nicolas Petit, who'd pressed his emergency beacon.