Permit have achieved somewhat of a mythical status in the fishing world. They are said to be wily. Spooky. Selective. Whatever the case, largely considered more rare and elusive than bonefish or tarpon, they are regarded by many to be the crown jewel of the world of saltwater flats fishing. They are also generally thought of as exceedingly difficult to take on a fly.
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Each day begins with a simple reminder: even in Ascension Bay, shots at permit are not to be wasted. Leave the trout fisherman in you at home and strip set. Strip set. Strip set. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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Mexican panga boats can navigate remarkably skinny water, almost as skinny as the most advanced modern flats skiffs. Unlike flats skiffs, however, panga boats have the brawn to handle often encountered swell and chop that is part of the long runs across Ascension Bay. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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The flats on Ascension Bay stretch on seemingly endlessly, offering opportunities for lengthy searches for permit, bonefish and other local species. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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Storms roll in only moments after arriving on a prime bonefish flat. Yet, despite steady rain and entirely flat light, guide Arun spots a few cruising bonefish 25 yards off. A couple of casts and backing runs later, a healthy bonefish comes to hand (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/2) As quickly as the storm approaches, it passes, and sun re-appears on the northern horizon. The many bonefish that come to hand continue to surprise in terms of their size. While Ascension Bay's bonefish are known to be plentiful in number, they aren't known for their size. Reports from recent years suggest large specimens are becoming more common, and the evidence matches (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/2) As quickly as the storm approaches, it passes, and sun re-appears on the northern horizon. The many bonefish that come to hand continue to surprise in terms of their size. While Ascension Bay's bonefish are known to be plentiful in number, they aren't known for their size. Reports from recent years suggest large specimens are becoming more common, and the evidence matches (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/4) An idyllic island serves as a meeting point for a midday lunch where tales of the morning's happenings are shared. Resident iguanas quickly emerge from the jungle brush in search of handouts from anglers (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/4) An idyllic island serves as a meeting point for a midday lunch where tales of the morning's happenings are shared. Resident iguanas quickly emerge from the jungle brush in search of handouts from anglers (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/4) An idyllic island serves as a meeting point for a midday lunch where tales of the morning's happenings are shared. Resident iguanas quickly emerge from the jungle brush in search of handouts from anglers (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(4/4) An idyllic island serves as a meeting point for a midday lunch where tales of the morning's happenings are shared. Resident iguanas quickly emerge from the jungle brush in search of handouts from anglers (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The bay offers no shortage of distractions from the search for permit. Jack crevalle are plentiful and easy to catch. Even the tiniest jacks can put a healthy bend in an eight weight. Quarry like this 12 pound horsehead jack, will bruise as well as other fish three times its size (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Barracuda are a woefully under-targeted species on the flats. This minor specimen attacked the fly with almost incomprehensible speed and aggression and doubled over a stiff 9 weight for the duration of an extended fight (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/2) More extended diversions into freshwater laden channels involve exhilarating panga rides through the mangrove, in search of tarpon and snook (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/2) More extended diversions into freshwater laden channels involve exhilarating panga rides through the mangrove, in search of tarpon and snook (photo: Matt Jones).
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Chris Hunt and guide Julio scan the flats for feeding permit. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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This small permit was plucked from fairly deep water while exploring a blue hole in search of barracuda. When it is the first of the day, even small permit are big. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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Permit caught in Ascension Bay are tagged as part of the Bonefish & Tarpon Trust's "Project Permit", which endeavors to gather valuable data on permit (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) The Palometa Club's recipe for success puts two guides in every boat and opts to chase permit on foot whenever possible. The result is more shots at each fish or school of fish thanks to the angler's increased maneuverability and the reduced likelihood of spooking the fish with the boat. Add in the vastly amplified adrenaline factor, and this is permit fishing. (photo: Matt Jones)
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(2/3) The Palometa Club's recipe for success puts two guides in every boat and opts to chase permit on foot whenever possible. The result is more shots at each fish or school of fish thanks to the angler's increased maneuverability and the reduced likelihood of spooking the fish with the boat. Add in the vastly amplified adrenaline factor, and this is permit fishing. (photo: Matt Jones)
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(2/3) The Palometa Club's recipe for success puts two guides in every boat and opts to chase permit on foot whenever possible. The result is more shots at each fish or school of fish thanks to the angler's increased maneuverability and the reduced likelihood of spooking the fish with the boat. Add in the vastly amplified adrenaline factor, and this is permit fishing. (photo: Matt Jones)
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Whether the permit fishing is good, or whether it is bad, there's always one last boat carrying anglers that convinced their guides to check "one last flat". Here, a sole boat motors towards the lighthouse and the calm waters of Punta Allen's shores (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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A permit tears off line, hooked after a lengthy pursuit on foot through what was thankfully only waist deep water. The fish makes several runs before coming to hand (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) Every permit is celebrated, but this one perhaps more so. After a week of tough weather and morning encounter that saw a securely hooked permit broken off by a certain over-zealous angler, the cradling and hoisting of this fine specimen brings a collective sense of elation to both guides and anglers. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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(2/3) Every permit is celebrated, but this one perhaps more so. After a week of tough weather and morning encounter that saw a securely hooked permit broken off by a certain over-zealous angler, the cradling and hoisting of this fine specimen brings a collective sense of elation to both guides and anglers. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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(3/3) Every permit is celebrated, but this one perhaps more so. After a week of tough weather and morning encounter that saw a securely hooked permit broken off by a certain over-zealous angler, the cradling and hoisting of this fine specimen brings a collective sense of elation to both guides and anglers. (photo: Chad Shmukler)
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If you catch a permit, it is your job to properly release it. Chris Hunt does so here (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) When the conditions on the bay are typical, shots at permit can be plentiful. With the early morning hex broken by a successful foot chase, the shots keep coming, a mere fraction of which are properly taken advantage of. In all, four permit find their way to the boat for tagging, with shots at many more blown along the way (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/3) When the conditions on the bay are typical, shots at permit can be plentiful. With the early morning hex broken by a successful foot chase, the shots keep coming, a mere fraction of which are properly taken advantage of. In all, four permit find their way to the boat for tagging, with shots at many more blown along the way (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) When the conditions on the bay are typical, shots at permit can be plentiful. With the early morning hex broken by a successful foot chase, the shots keep coming, a mere fraction of which are properly taken advantage of. In all, four permit find their way to the boat for tagging, with shots at many more blown along the way (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Guests that land a permit hang a flag on the flagpole that adorns the beach in front of the club. With conditions back to normal, 5 flags are hung and admired on day six (photo: Chad Shmukler).
Jake Dodd makes a killer rod caddy! With cat-like reflexes he leaps elegantly over this obstacle while maintaining control of all the gear.
3:50 AM. We’re stuffing gear in the back of the Subaru. It’s routine at this point. This time of year
we swing for steelhead on the Lower Deschutes any free day we get. Always, up early only to
return late. This trip down is no different; routine. Shut the hatch and we’re peeling away from
the curb. 3:55 AM. On the highway by 4:05 AM. A little off the mark, but it’ll be fine. Plenty of
time to eat some pavement, don the headlamps, string the rods, and position ourselves on our
favorite run before first light.
Despite being a land of staggering plenty, Alaska's southeast is facing a number of challenges. Proposals for new mining operations and hydroelectric dams are looming and the logging industry -- a spectacular and perpetual loser both environmentally and economically -- is looking to re-establish operations in the Tongass National Forest after largely being set aside several decades ago.
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(1/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(4/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(5/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(6/6) The fishing industry in the Tongass, despite its massive harvests, is still largely characterized by family and small business operations. The individuals that drive the industry are passionate about its survival and often eager to share their views on the issues that surround it. When politics overwhelm the conversation, there's always time for some discussion on the virtues of troll-caught salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Here, a purse seining operation sets its nets in search of salmon. Purse seiners are responsible for large hauls of fish in Alaska's southeast, with catches from a single net set as high as a thousand fish or more (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(4/4) Dotting the shorelines of Alaska's southeast are numerous seafood processing facilities, like this one, where catches are delivered daily and quickly processed, packaged and shipped for sale. Here, processors work through a haul of chum salmon, which will be sold commercially as "keta" or "silverbrite" salmon (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Setting out by boat from a Juneau Harbor for Admiralty Island, talk is of bears. Admiralty is home to the world's highest concentration of brown bears, with a concentration of just under one bear per square mile (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/3) As we step into a creek that flows across the island, wading boots are hardly in the water for a minute before the first pink salmon is hooked, and the catches continue unabated until, in an effort to up the difficulty -- a senseless tendency that many a fly fisherman is afflicted with -- we decide to try to catch pinks on poppers. It isn't long before the craft is mastered, and the flurry of pinks continues. Eventually, even this 12 pound chum salmon gets in on the top water action (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/3) As we step into a creek that flows across the island, wading boots are hardly in the water for a minute before the first pink salmon is hooked, and the catches continue unabated until, in an effort to up the difficulty -- a senseless tendency that many a fly fisherman is afflicted with -- we decide to try to catch pinks on poppers. It isn't long before the craft is mastered, and the flurry of pinks continues. Eventually, even this 12 pound chum salmon gets in on the top water action (photo: Earl Harper).
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(3/3) As we step into a creek that flows across the island, wading boots are hardly in the water for a minute before the first pink salmon is hooked, and the catches continue unabated until, in an effort to up the difficulty -- a senseless tendency that many a fly fisherman is afflicted with -- we decide to try to catch pinks on poppers. It isn't long before the craft is mastered, and the flurry of pinks continues. Eventually, even this 12 pound chum salmon gets in on the top water action (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The surprise for the day -- well, aside from how much gut aching laughter is produced by repeatedly catching pacific salmon on surface flies more suited to largemouth bass -- is this beautiful, feisty cutthroat trout (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/3) Reaching an unnamed tidal creek less than 20 miles from downtown Juneau is accomplish via a Ward Air DeHavilland Beaver float plane. These more than half-century old aircraft are the most heralded bush planes in Alaska and beyond (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/3) Reaching an unnamed tidal creek less than 20 miles from downtown Juneau is accomplish via a Ward Air DeHavilland Beaver float plane. These more than half-century old aircraft are the most heralded bush planes in Alaska and beyond (photo: Earl Harper).
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(3/3) Reaching an unnamed tidal creek less than 20 miles from downtown Juneau is accomplish via a Ward Air DeHavilland Beaver float plane. These more than half-century old aircraft are the most heralded bush planes in Alaska and beyond (photo: Earl Harper).
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(1/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Earl Haper).
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(4/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(5/5) Once the float plane departs, a long walk through thick meadows of rain-soaked marsh grasses ensues, eventually yielding the the chum salmon choked creek. As expected, hordes of dolly varden have followed the spawning chum in to feast on their eggs, and we've followed the dollies (photo: Earl Harper).
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The bounty of of the Tongass is shared by many a creature. The remnants of salmon that have been feasted upon by bear, bald eagles and other animals wash up on gravel bars, lie on grassy banks and float downriver (photo: Earl Harper).
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Here, two old grizzly bears tussle a creekside salmon berry bush in search of a mid-day snack (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/2) The vast majority of the fishing in creeks like these is done using bead rigs -- plastic beads designed to imitate salmon eggs -- pegged 1-2 inches above a bare hook. Frowned upon by some, "beading" is more effective and intricate than fishing with yarn-based egg flies and significantly reduces fish mortality due to a drastic decrease in the number of deeply swallowed hooks (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/2) The vast majority of the fishing in creeks like these is done using bead rigs -- plastic beads designed to imitate salmon eggs -- pegged 1-2 inches above a bare hook. Frowned upon by some, "beading" is more effective and intricate than fishing with yarn-based egg flies and significantly reduces fish mortality due to a drastic decrease in the number of deeply swallowed hooks (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) The chum and dolly varden in this creek are impressive specimens. Many of the dolly varden, which gorge virtually non-stop all summer long on salmon eggs, will top 30 inches in length (photo: Earl Harper).
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(2/3) The chum and dolly varden in this creek are impressive specimens. Many of the dolly varden, which gorge virtually non-stop all summer long on salmon eggs, will top 30 inches in length (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) The chum and dolly varden in this creek are impressive specimens. Many of the dolly varden, which gorge virtually non-stop all summer long on salmon eggs, will top 30 inches in length (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Glacier ice and snowmelt fed creeks aren't only good for nourishing salmonids, they're incredibly effective at rapidly chilling Rainer that's spent the day warming in cramped backpacks (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/2) The creek we leave 6 hours after arriving is a largely transformed version of the one that greeted us upon our arrival. The tidal influence here is significant. We leave the marsh grass meadows behind and plod through a seemingly endless, stench filled mudfield (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/2) The creek we leave 6 hours after arriving is a largely transformed version of the one that greeted us upon our arrival. The tidal influence here is significant. We leave the marsh grass meadows behind and plod through a seemingly endless, stench filled mudfield (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) Coursing through the Juneau town limits is Montana Creek, a clearwater tributary to the Mendenhall River. Montana Creek offers outstanding fishing for coho, chum and pink salmon, dolly varden and even steelhead. Montana Creek, despite being located in very close proximity to fairly densely developed recreational areas, remains undeveloped and pristine (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/3) Coursing through the Juneau town limits is Montana Creek, a clearwater tributary to the Mendenhall River. Montana Creek offers outstanding fishing for coho, chum and pink salmon, dolly varden and even steelhead. Montana Creek, despite being located in very close proximity to fairly densely developed recreational areas, remains undeveloped and pristine (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) Coursing through the Juneau town limits is Montana Creek, a clearwater tributary to the Mendenhall River. Montana Creek offers outstanding fishing for coho, chum and pink salmon, dolly varden and even steelhead. Montana Creek, despite being located in very close proximity to fairly densely developed recreational areas, remains undeveloped and pristine (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(1/3) A midday break on a footbridge crossing Montana Creek reveals a chum salmon holding in a small pool just downstream of the bridge. The fact that we've arrived on Montana with Tenkara rods and dolly varden as our target seems to ward no one off the challenge, and it isn't long before Chris Hunt is mid stream swinging a pink streamer to the oblivious chum. The 10-pound salmon swiftly obliges and the task of a Tenkara-caught salmon is achieved (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(2/3) A midday break on a footbridge crossing Montana Creek reveals a chum salmon holding in a small pool just downstream of the bridge. The fact that we've arrived on Montana with Tenkara rods and dolly varden as our target seems to ward no one off the challenge, and it isn't long before Chris Hunt is mid stream swinging a pink streamer to the oblivious chum. The 10-pound salmon swiftly obliges and the task of a Tenkara-caught salmon is achieved (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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(3/3) A midday break on a footbridge crossing Montana Creek reveals a chum salmon holding in a small pool just downstream of the bridge. The fact that we've arrived on Montana with Tenkara rods and dolly varden as our target seems to ward no one off the challenge, and it isn't long before Chris Hunt is mid stream swinging a pink streamer to the oblivious chum. The 10-pound salmon obliges and the task of a Tenkara-caught salmon is achieved (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The abundance of the waters and the rainforest that cover southeast Alaska is leaves no one in this group -- which hails from across the United States -- without a deep, pervasive sense of reverence. The need to preserve such an unparalleled resource through any reasonable means seems a matter of common sense, rather than one for debate, especially given the lessons already learned by far-reaching regions of the lower 48 and Canada that squandered their similar resources.
It may seem strange to see Alaska's southeast, which is predominated by the Tongass National Forest, referred to as the "other" Alaska. After all, no destination of Alaska sees more summer visitors than the southeast's largest city and Alaska's capital city, Juneau. Throw in Ketchikan, not terribly far from Juneau, and other southeastern cities like Sitka and the southeast sees over 1 million visitors each summer; considerably more than any other region of Alaska.
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Literally just a few short miles from where massive cruise liners dock in downtown Juneau, is Sheep Creek. Despite only offering a few hundred yards of spawning habitat before a waterfall blocks fish passage, this shallow creek is blanketed by thousands of chum salmon when we arrived there in mid July. Following the chum salmon are countless dolly varden, there to feed on the eggs of the chum (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Only mere inches deep in most parts and no more than a couple feet deep in the biggest holes, spawning fish entering Sheep Creek struggle to swim with most of their bodies out of the water. The creek's surface is never placid for more than a few seconds at a time, as fish moving upstream regularly compete for territory with fish that have already begun digging redds, causing a domino effect of thrashing fish that sets the small creek's surface ablaze (photo: Earl Harper).
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Only mere inches deep in most parts and no more than a couple feet deep in the biggest holes, spawning fish entering Sheep Creek struggle to swim with most of their bodies out of the water. The creek's surface is never placid for more than a few seconds at a time, as fish moving upstream regularly compete for territory with fish that have already begun digging redds, causing a domino effect of thrashing fish that sets the small creek's surface ablaze (photo: Earl Harper).
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Though our quarry here are the dolly varden that have followed the chum salmon into the creek, a healthy number of chum salmon are hooked. Due to the extremely shallow water, some of these are accidentally lined or flossed in the search for dollies, but others -- like those shown here -- will inexplicably break from their spawning behavior to chase and eat an egg imitation. The heft of a 10 pound chum salmon on a 4 or 5 weight rod is a recipe for a sore arm, a broken rod, or both (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Though our quarry here are the dolly varden that have followed the chum salmon into the creek, a healthy number of chum salmon are hooked. Due to the extremely shallow water, some of these are accidentally lined or flossed in the search for dollies, but others -- like those shown here -- will inexplicably break from their spawning behavior to chase and eat an egg imitation. The heft of a 10 pound chum salmon on a 4 or 5 weight rod is a recipe for a sore arm, a broken rod, or both (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Though our quarry here are the dolly varden that have followed the chum salmon into the creek, a healthy number of chum salmon are hooked. Due to the extremely shallow water, some of these are accidentally lined or flossed in the search for dollies, but others -- like those shown here -- will inexplicably break from their spawning behavior to chase and eat an egg imitation. The heft of a 10 pound chum salmon on a 4 or 5 weight rod is a recipe for a sore arm, a broken rod, or both (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The Taku Glacier, one of the seemingly countless glaciers that surround Juneua, is seen here from the air. The Take glacier is a tidewater glacier known to be the thickest glacier in the world at nearly 5,000 feet thick (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The Taku Glacier, one of the seemingly countless glaciers that surround Juneua, is seen here from the air. The Taku glacier is a tidewater glacier known to be the thickest glacier in the world at nearly 5,000 feet thick (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Iridescent blue ice is revealed as a small portion of the Taku Glacier, near the glacier's snout, calves into the grey meltwater below (photo: Earl Harper).
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Iridescent blue ice is revealed as a small portion of the Taku Glacier, near the glacier's snout, calves into the grey meltwater below (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The Taku continues to advance, unlike many other glaciers in the region, which have been negatively impacted by climate change. Of the 20 glaciers in the Juneau Icefield, only the Taku is still advancing.
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The Taku continues to advance, unlike many other glaciers in the region, which have been negatively impacted by climate change. Of the 20 glaciers in the Juneau Icefield, only the Taku is still advancing.
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The Taku continues to advance, unlike many other glaciers in the region, which have been negatively impacted by climate change. Of the 20 glaciers in the Juneau Icefield, only the Taku is still advancing.
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The Taku glacier is also one of the purest and cleanest known glaciers. As a result, ships that have traveled the region since the 19th century have preferred to stock their ice boxes with ice from the Taku. To this day, ice from the Taku glacier is still harvested. The scene below came into view as our DeHavilland Otter soars clear of the glacier and on to the Taku Glacier Lodge, which we later learn harvests ice from the glacier regularly for use in chilling and storing perishables, ice for drinking water and so on, due to the complete lack of electricity at the lodge's remote location.
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A feast of wood-fire grilled Taku River sockeye salmon, which labored over by the staff of the Taku River Lodge during an extensive cooking and smoking process, awaits. The salmon of the Taku River, like those of every river, stream and creek that dots the Tongass, depend on stable, clean, wild habitat to thrive (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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A feast of wood-fire grilled Taku River sockeye salmon, which was labored over by the staff of the Taku River Lodge during an extensive cooking and smoking process, awaits. The salmon of the Taku River, like those of every river, stream and creek that dots the Tongass, depend on stable, clean, wild habitat to thrive (photo: Earl Harper).
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The swirling aroma of salmon and hickory smoke lures more than beer drinking fishermen to bask in its midst, including this black bear, and the three that followed shortly thereafter. Once the guests headed inside for dinner, the bears took to the wood burning grill to clean out the drippings of salmon fat that had fallen into the sand below (photo: Earl Harper).
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The dizzying aroma of salmon and hickory smoke lures more than beer drinking fishermen to bask in its midst, including this black bear, and the three that followed shortly thereafter. Once the guests headed inside for dinner, the bears took to the wood burning grill to clean out the drippings of salmon fat that had fallen into the sand below (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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On the return flight to downtown Juneau, freshwater heavily tinged by glacial silt and flour from the Taku glacier meets saltwater. The interface of the two produces a dramatic sight.
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Near the terminus of the twenty-odd mile long (and only) road that extends northbound leaving Juneau is Kowee Creek, a powerful glacially-fed stream. Lining its banks is lush rainforest, filled with towering evergeens and an understory made up of seemingly jurassic plants with leaves that are likely equally well suited to building shelters as they are to gathering sunlight.
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The invaluable system of complex trail markings, developed by our guides over the course of decades exploring the Alaskan bush, takes weeks of study to fully comprehend (photo: Earl Harper).
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Cowee Creek runs a rich, milky blue-green as a result of the glacial flour suspended in the meltwater that feeds the stream. Even when air temperatures reach their peak, meltwater-fed streams like Cowee remain at chilly, optimal temperatures for salmonids (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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Largely without exception, every leader in the group of eight that has made their way to the creek has something big and pink tied to the end of it. Pink clousers, pink egg sucking leeches, pink dolly llamas, pink zonkers. It matters not, so long as it is pink. Humpies (pink salmon) aren't known for being elusive and the word is anything pink will do. And while the first few casts from the group are uneventful, it is only minutes later before it begins. And once it starts, it doesn't stop until rods are tossed down stream side to rest arms that ache from fighting fish and sides that ache from laughing (photo: Earl Harper).
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Largely without exception, every leader in the group of eight that has made their way to the creek has something big and pink tied to the end of it. Pink clousers, pink egg sucking leeches, pink dolly llamas, pink zonkers. It matters not, so long as it is pink. Humpies (pink salmon) aren't known for being elusive and the word is anything pink will do. And while the first few casts from the group are uneventful, it is only minutes later before it begins. And once it starts, it doesn't stop until rods are tossed down stream side to rest arms that ache from fighting fish and sides that ache from laughing (photo: Earl Harper).
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Largely without exception, every leader in the group of eight that has made their way to the creek has something big and pink tied to the end of it. Pink clousers, pink egg sucking leeches, pink dolly llamas, pink zonkers. It matters not, so long as it is pink. Humpies (pink salmon) aren't known for being elusive and the word is anything pink will do. And while the first few casts from the group are uneventful, it is only minutes later before it begins. And once it starts, it doesn't stop until rods are tossed down stream side to rest arms that ache from fighting fish and sides that ache from laughing (photo: Earl Harper).
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The pink salmon isn't nearly as renowned as other salmon as either a food or game fish, despite being one of the most widely harvested fish by commercial salmon fishermen. On the table, pink salmon is mild and versatile, finding its way into countless canned and prepared food products that contain salmon. On the line and in the hand, pinks are voracious feeders, feisty and beautiful specimens. Pink salmon in for their spawning run vary widely in coloration and in shape, ranging from sleek silver missiles to individuals dressed in all manner of green and pink and blue, some complete with the pronounced hump that spawning pinks develop (photo: Earl Harper).
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The pink salmon isn't nearly as renowned as other salmon as either a food or game fish, despite being one of the most widely harvested fish by commercial salmon fishermen. On the table, pink salmon is mild and versatile, finding its way into countless canned and prepared food products that contain salmon. On the line and in the hand, pinks are voracious feeders, feisty and beautiful specimens. Pink salmon in for their spawning run vary widely in coloration and in shape, ranging from sleek silver missiles to individuals dressed in all manner of green and pink and blue, some complete with the pronounced hump that spawning pinks develop (photo: Earl Harper).
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The pink salmon isn't nearly as renowned as other salmon as either a food or game fish, despite being one of the most widely harvested fish by commercial salmon fishermen. On the table, pink salmon is mild and versatile, finding its way into countless canned and prepared food products that contain salmon. On the line and in the hand, pinks are voracious feeders, feisty and beautiful specimens. Pink salmon in for their spawning run vary widely in coloration and in shape, ranging from sleek silver missiles to individuals dressed in all manner of green and pink and blue, some complete with the pronounced hump that spawning pinks develop (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The pink salmon isn't nearly as renowned as other salmon as either a food or game fish, despite being one of the most widely harvested fish by commercial salmon fishermen. On the table, pink salmon is mild and versatile, finding its way into countless canned and prepared food products that contain salmon. On the line and in the hand, pinks are voracious feeders, feisty and beautiful specimens. Pink salmon in for their spawning run vary widely in coloration and in shape, ranging from sleek silver missiles to individuals dressed in all manner of green and pink and blue, some complete with the pronounced hump that spawning pinks develop (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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The pink salmon isn't nearly as renowned as other salmon as either a food or game fish, despite being one of the most widely harvested fish by commercial salmon fishermen. On the table, pink salmon is mild and versatile, finding its way into countless canned and prepared food products that contain salmon. On the line and in the hand, pinks are voracious feeders, feisty and beautiful specimens. Pink salmon in for their spawning run vary widely in coloration and in shape, ranging from sleek silver missiles to individuals dressed in all manner of green and pink and blue, some complete with the pronounced hump that spawning pinks develop (photo: Chad Shmukler).
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And then this happens. Amongst the shouts and the laughter and the boasting, we notice one by one -- as we peer up and downriver -- that everyone has a fish. Well, everyone with a rod that is. Matt Smythe, having handed his rod off to photographer Earl Harper, is left to graciously play photographer as we each carefully land our fish near shore. A few shutter clicks later, this widely shared image "Seven Salmon All in a Row" is captured. And, as has been mentioned before, it bears noting that opportunities like the one that precipitated this image continue to arise throughout the day. None of us have likely imagined, let alone seen, this kind of plenty before (photo: Matt Smythe).
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Making our way to another favorite spot a bit farther downriver means tromping through a preposterously bear-friendly meadow that is choked with fireweed that exceeds 8 feet in height in many places. Whiffs of bear musk, whether real or imagined, are detected by more than one angler as we happily but cautiously make our way through the towering weeds. As we emerge on a sandy bank a few hundred yards downstream, we're greeted by a relatively fresh brown bear print (photo: Earl Harper).
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Making our way to another favorite spot a bit farther downriver means tromping through a preposterously bear-friendly meadow that is choked with fireweed that exceeds 8 feet in height in many places. Whiffs of bear musk, whether real or imagined, are detected by more than one angler as we happily but cautiously make our way through the towering weeds. As we emerge on a sandy bank a few hundred yards downstream, we're greeted by a relatively fresh brown bear print (photo: Earl Harper).
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Making our way to another favorite spot a bit farther downriver means tromping through a preposterously bear-friendly meadow that is choked with fireweed that exceeds 8 feet in height in many places. Whiffs of bear musk, whether real or imagined, are detected by more than one angler as we happily but cautiously make our way through the towering weeds. As we emerge on a sandy bank a few hundred yards downstream, we're greeted by a relatively fresh brown bear print (photo: Earl Harper).
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Temperatures soared into the eighties and the mid-afternoon sun beats down through uncharacteristic bluebird skies. With the number of pink salmon brought to hand long into the hundreds, it is easy to take a seat, despite the otherworldly fish catching opportunities that lay just feet away. Still, guide Mark Heironymous, the only one present that has regular access to the bounty of the Tongass, rebuilds his rig to chase a few fat pinks that are sunning themselves in a back eddy not far below.
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Temperatures having soared into the eighties and the mid-afternoon sun beats down through uncharacteristic bluebird skies. With the number of pink salmon brought to hand long into the hundreds, it is easy to take a seat, despite the otherworldly fish catching opportunities that lay just feet away. Still, guide Mark Heironymous, the only one present that has regular access to the bounty of the Tongass, rebuilds his rig to chase a few fat pinks that are sunning themselves in a back eddy not far below.
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After a stifling, 2 mile walk back in waders through the steaming, verdant Tongass rainforest, backs ache, shirts are soaked and feet are sore. The fact that sultry summer days and muggy forest walks aren't supposed to be part of an Alaskan summer is lost on no one. As we arrive back at the creek's intersection with the road, some of us have yet to have enough, returning to the river to chase down more pinks, while the rest of the group moves on to finer pursuits (photo: Earl Harper).
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After a stifling, 2 mile walk back in waders through the steaming, verdant Tongass rainforest, backs ache, shirts are soaked and feet are sore. The fact that sultry summer days and muggy forest walks aren't supposed to be part of an Alaskan summer is lost on no one. As we arrive back at the creek's intersection with the road, some of us have yet to have enough, returning to the river to chase down more pinks, while the rest of the group moves on to finer pursuits (photo: Earl Harper).
ABOVE
After a stifling, 2 mile walk back in waders through the steaming, verdant Tongass rainforest, backs ache, shirts are soaked and feet are sore. The fact that sultry summer days and muggy forest walks aren't supposed to be part of an Alaskan summer is lost on no one. As we arrive back at the creek's intersection with the road, some of us have yet to have enough, returning to the river to chase down more pinks, while the rest of the group moves on to finer pursuits (photo: Earl Harper).
ABOVE
After a stifling, 2 mile walk back in waders through the steaming, verdant Tongass rainforest, backs ache, shirts are soaked and feet are sore. The fact that sultry summer days and muggy forest walks aren't supposed to be part of an Alaskan summer is lost on no one. As we arrive back at the creek's intersection with the road, some of us have yet to have enough, returning to the river to chase down more pinks, while the rest of the group moves on to finer pursuits (photo: Earl Harper).
ABOVE
After a stifling, 2 mile walk back in waders through the steaming, verdant Tongass rainforest, backs ache, shirts are soaked and feet are sore. The fact that sultry summer days and muggy forest walks aren't supposed to be part of an Alaskan summer is lost on no one. As we arrive back at the creek's intersection with the road, some of us have yet to have enough, returning to the river to chase down more pinks, while the rest of the group moves on to finer pursuits (photo: Earl Harper).
ABOVE
After a stifling, 2 mile walk back in waders through the steaming, verdant Tongass rainforest, backs ache, shirts are soaked and feet are sore. The fact that sultry summer days and muggy forest walks aren't supposed to be part of an Alaskan summer is lost on no one. As we arrive back at the creek's intersection with the road, some of us have yet to have enough, returning to the river to chase down more pinks, while the rest of the group moves on to finer pursuits (photo: Chad Shmukler).
We received many wonderful submissions this year from photographers that share a love of fly fishing. Unfortunately, we're only able to award a few of those with prizes. However, thanks to our generous sponsors -- Thomas & Thomas, Montana Fly Company, Maui Jim Sunglasses and Airflo -- we're able to award those few with some very nice ones. For prize info, you can view the original contest page.
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(HONORABLE MENTION) Kendra Nelson, who captured this image, noted that she was "inspired by this man's determination to do what he loves, despite the obvious restrictions his body has tried to place on his love for fishing and the outdoors." And she's not alone. This truly impactful image has been seen by almost 300,000 people on Facebook and has been widely shared on Twitter, Reddit and so on. While this image lacks the technical quality of the others, it more than makes up for it with substance.
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(RUNNER UP) While those of us who love fly fishing hope we'll be able to instill a love of the sport in our children that will send them to seek water, sometimes the motivation comes from an altogether unexpected source. 10 year old Finn, pictured here, broke his arm leaving him unable to "ride bikes for the summer." Instead he took up fly fishing, and is said to be hooked for life.
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(RUNNER UP) The effect here is nothing new. We've all seen black and white images of a rose with the entire composition desaturated except for the rose's red petals. In the world of fishing. the effect is used in ubiquitous fashion with brown trout shots. Applied here, however, in combination with the image's interesting perspective, many of the judges felt that something "just worked".
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(RUNNER UP) To say there was no shortage of submissions of underwater photographs of fish would be an understatement, many of which were very compelling. This shot of a brown trout from a small spring creek, however, was a standout. The image is full of life and tone and offers a stunning view of the lateral line of the trout.
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(RUNNER UP) Justin Hamblin's image captures the interplay of early morning winter sun, which differs starkly in character from its summertime counterpart, and water in this image. The fleeting brown, highlighted all-too-perfectly by the sun's rays and the bright red of the fisherman's bear spray complete this excellent image.
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(RUNNER UP) What's not to like about this image? Sure, another stop down and we'd likely have a tack-sharp rainbow, but who can be bothered with such a worry when you're entranced by the silky-smooth texture of the water, the eerily well-paired couple that is Stu Hastie's New Zealand hog and the Montana Fly Company reel. Toss in Stu's handy work on the custom fly rod, and the whole scene seems like it was pulled from a dream.
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(RUNNER UP) The favorite of several judges, this ethereal capture -- full of contrast and depth -- of a wild 'redside' rainbow trout from Oregon's Mackenzie River is one of those images you can't look away from.
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(THIRD PRIZE) A blanket hatch, skies filled with an impossibly large swarm of insects, isn't something your average individual would find beautiful. This image, however, which depicts the sun's rays filtering through an amazing trico hatch on the Missouri River, will likely inspire awe in both fisherman and non-fishermen alike.
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(SECOND PRIZE) Despite its soft tones and beautiful colors, this image ends up taking second prize more for the technical prowess involved in capturing this scene. The challenges of slowing the camera's shutter speed to create the silkiness in the water, while keeping the subject still to insure it remained sharp are not to be understated. Whether a product of good fortune, or good method, the result is incredibly captivating.
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(FIRST PRIZE) As one of our judges noted, "I'm sure you have seen just as many, bad, out of focus, harshly lit, busy background, bug shots as I have. This has none of those problems." A truly intimate, alluring portrait of one of the salmonfly - one of fly fishing's most notorious bugs.
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(GRAND PRIZE) Whether you're chasing the light, or your kids, half the battle the photographer faces is being ready when the moment is right. When that moment is your 9-year old son catching and releasing his first fish on the last cast of the day, imagine the reward of being able to capture it as well as Stu Hastie has in this grand prize winning image.
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