It's July 24th, 2022 and new guests arrive today. The weather is miserable - it's blowing and drizzling like crazy. Not exactly the best introduction to Alaska for the family we are hosting this week. John and I finish our changeover chores, jump in jet boats, and meet the plane in a "protected" area of the nearby lake. After loading our jet boats with guest luggage, we chauffeur them to The Ridge.
I'm excited for the week. We have a family with two grown sons, none of which are the least bit affected by the weather - in fact, they're stoked. On the first day, we knock out salmon fishing on our local river. I give filleting a shot (I'm a little rusty) and accidentally slice my thumb. I hastily pull out my first aid kit and give myself a half-ass bandage job before anyone can notice...but I'm bleeding...alot. Later that night, I resign myself to supergluing the cut shut so I can continue guiding for the week - something I'll have to continue doing as the week progresses.
The next morning, as we load back up in the jet boats, I see my bloody handprint on the motor. Evidence of my painful mistake. The salmon run is in full force now and the bears are everywhere. We catch some big, beautiful rainbows, Dolly Varden, and pike...and I'm having a lot of fun. Later in the week, though, John wakes me up early. He's supposed to go on a solo guided float plane trip with two of the guests while I hang back and take the other two on our local river again, but he's not feeling well. So he asks if we can switch so he can be back at The Ridge earlier and rest.
"Ummm, sure? But I've never done a guided float plane trip by myself."
"You'll be fine. Just InReach me throughout the day to keep me posted."
Frantically, I switch out all my fishing gear to prepare for where I'm now headed. We load up, head to the plane pickup, and take off. When we land, I'm feeling confident and ready to go. We bounce around different spots, but the highlight is when I take one of the sons into a smaller creek to catch rainbows, grayling, and char. It's a great day, and before I know it, it's time to head back to the float plane pickup and head back home. But once we get there and break all of our gear down, I receive an InReach from the pilot. The plane will be late due to the weather. My guests and I set all of our gear down, lay in the tundra, and wait for more details. It's really blowing, and I start to wonder if we will need to camp here overnight. While we pass the time, we eat the wild blueberries growing in the tundra all around us. Eventually, an hour and a half or so later, we get picked up and head back to The Ridge. It was a long day, but a good one.
The next week rolls around and we have five guests between two guides. The salmon in our local river have turned bright red and it's virtually impossible to find good salmon to keep for eating. But our guests still want to go salmon fishing, opting to release their daily catches. They set a goal to catch and release 100 salmon, which turns into chaos as each angler hooks up and I run up and down the shoreline netting fish, releasing them, and re-rigging rods as needed. During the frenzy, I see Happy (from Iliamna River Lodge) rowing down the river with his guests.
"You guys are still salmon fishing?"
"Yeah, but we're releasing them. I'm so out of breathe right now. I miss you guys over there."
"Maybe you can switch with one of our guides and come work over at IRL?"
"Maybe, but I'm doing good. So great seeing you - I hope we run into each other again."
I talk to John about my interaction with Happy and he asks whether I want the transfer. I'm not sure. Maybe the bigger community of guides and staff would really help me, but I also don't want to admit defeat. I leave it up to John to decide whether to speak to the powers that be about a possible transfer.
The rest of the week is tough. I guide on several new, technical rivers - by jet boat and raft - and my stress level is high. The fishing is good, but I'm certainly feeling overwhelmed. One evening, after a shower, I hear a knock on my door. When I open it, it's two of our guests.
"We're going to try our hand at some after-hours fishing and would like some beads and rigs, if you don't mind."
"Um...sure. Hang on a second."
I'm wearing a towel on my head and a t-shirt with no bra on. I'm starting to unravel. It's been a few weeks without a day off, and I'm really feeling it. I hastily grab my pre-rigs and some beads and hand them over, knowing I'll have to wake up extra early the next morning to supplement my fly boxes for fishing.
At the end of the week, after a particularly hard day, I excuse myself to my room and have a mini meltdown. Midway through my tearful pity party, John walks in.
"Becca, pack your bags. You're heading back to Iliamna River Lodge for the rest of the season."
I'm speechless. Is this what I really want? Will I do better there? Do I want to leave my team at The Ridge? It's mixed emotions. But, there's still work to do. We guide our clients for their last day and then send them home. I pack all of my things and head upstairs to the dining room for a farewell dinner. It's a night I'll never forget. John kicks off the dinner with affirmations to send me on the second half of my season. Then Macy goes. Then Roger, our chef. I'm holding back my tears. I can't believe all of the wonderful things they are saying about me. It does wonders for my confidence and excitement for my next adventure. The next morning, it's raining (of course). I pack up my jet boat with all my belongings for a final ride. I see my bloody handprint still on the motor and I decide to leave it. It's proof that I was here.
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