Sprit Animals by Mark Usyk

Spirit Animals

I’ve just gotten back from hosting my first ever fly-fishing trip. To call it an experience falls way to short, but I can’t find the right, single word for it either. It was just too big of a thing for one word. I brought five other anglers along with me to the Alaskan Remote Adventures lodge deep in Alaska on the Mulchatna River with the idea of coming home with stories of salmon fishing in the great Alaskan wilderness. What ended up coming of it was more than just stories. Some that went with me were already good friends, and after the trip, everyone felt like old friends. Everyone. All of the anglers, the guides, the lodge owner, everyone. I became home sick and felt like I missed family once back home after only a week there. These are strong vibes, the stuff a good life is made of.

I’d never salmon fished before. I’ve got the famous Salmon River here in in NY less than an hour from home, but I’ve always avoided salmon season. Shoulder to shoulder fishermen and packed parking lots are not why I go to rivers, they’re in fact everything opposite. So it was very fitting that my first salmon encounters took place in one of the most remote places you could find in the U.S.

I also found something I didn’t know I had during the week. A spirit animal. I’ve heard the term countless times but never got anything more out of it than a chuckle when someone would say a clumsy Panda was their spirit animal because they themselves had no balance or coordination. Or when someone would tell a friend their spirit animal must be a tiger because they never backed down. They were just things people said that didn’t have any real meaning for me. But then I went to Alaska and found mine. You might not be surprised to hear me say it’s a fish. I’m not. But it’s probably not the fish you’d expect me to name off. No, it’s not a brook trout. And it’s not a smallmouth. Nope. Allow me to introduce you to… the chum salmon.

I didn’t know what they were until I saw some photos online researching when I wanted to schedule the trip. And they looked pretty cool. Dark, mean, race car graphic splashes of color on their sides caught my attention. But seeing them, fighting them, and holding them in person changed everything.

A spirit animal can be a couple of different things depending on who you’re talking to. Indigenous people might tell you they’re a guardian, a protector, or a spiritual guide. I think if I believed in such things, I’d believe the chum salmon to be that now that I’ve met them. Others might use “spirit animal” more as a metaphor for something that a person might admire or relate to. Again, for me, the chum.

For something that a lot of salmon anglers refer to as dog salmon because they’re an unwanted catch during salmon season, a salmon only fit to feed to the dogs because they’re apparently unpalatable, I relate. I feel like I’ve never been in the cool crowd. I’ve been passed over quite a bit in my life because I just wasn’t the life of the party, didn’t wear the right clothes, have enough money, hang out with the right people.

But it goes much deeper than that, but maybe it’s only skin deep really. Or it’s their face value that grabs me right away. Their colors. Their ugly mugs. Slashes of purple and black over shades of green. Gnarly teeth jutting from a face only a mother could love. Chum, I’ve decided that in my book, they’re the punk rockers of the salmon family. They’re the outcasts from the cool crowd, and maybe that’s why they fight so hard…they have nothing to lose and everything to prove, and they don’t care what you think. They’re coming upriver, they’re going to destroy your streamers and contort your fly rod, and you’re going to remember them when they’re gone. They’re vicious, untiring, and while fish don’t make sounds…chum are in-your-face loud. Just look at them!

I caught jacks and kings, and I caught grayling and rainbows. But the chums, they were my favorite. And anyone who has anything to say otherwise about the dog salmon…well just maybe, your dogs have better taste than you do.

JP built me an 8wt for this trip, a fast action model he’s calling The Parsec. Our friends Jeff and Bryan Kimball have tested the 5wt version with approval, and now I’ve put the 8wt through some grueling tests. A week of powerful, wild salmon in tough Alaskan conditions. It shined against these beasts; saltwater fish in a freshwater river, and I loved every minute of the casting and the bending. JP assures me that the Parsec, a fast action graphite model will be added to the JP Ross Fly Rods line up soon. He’ll be taking it into the great north of North America in a few days to battle some pike, and I know he’ll come back with a nod of approval himself. As for me…I think I need to do a short run of some chum art. Maybe some kind of chum punk rock t-shirts. I don’t know yet. But they have my attention and admiration and have given me new inspiration as well. And Thanks to the crew up at Alaskan Remote Adventures on the Mulchatna River for introducing me to them. We’ll meet again.

Mark Usyk is a long-time friend of JP Ross, both the person and the company. He’s also an author of three books full of stories about life, where fishing happens. They’re available right here on this website. His fourth book is now being finished after his return from the Alaskan Remote Adventures lodge on the Mulchatna, and he hopes to have it published before Christmas of 2024. If you’re interested in hearing more about the new fast action Parsec, contact JP with inquiries!