Submitted by j.weis on Thu, 2016-08-04 13:06 Vote Up Down +2 + Midnight_Sun.jpg The midnight sun backlights black spruce and the mountains of Wrangell St. Elias as the author casts to rising grayling. Photo by Sam Weis fish_your_park.png Editor's note: This summer marks the 100th anniversary of the National Park Service, and the formal creation of the uniquely American national park system. Trout Unlimited is celebrating with the National Park Service by sharing stories from staff, volunteers and other anglers who chase wild trout inside the protected lands of national parks from coast to coast. Check back often, as stories from our "Fish your park" series will appear regularly on the TU blog. By: Sam Weis It’s almost midnight in Wrangell St. Elias National Park, and the fiery sunset silhouettes tall black spruce trees and postcard-perfect mountains. I stand on a small tussock on the edge of Kendesnii Lake, mesmerized as I rhythmically cast to small-but-feisty wild Grayling gulping the still-slow spring mosquitos. I should be going to sleep. I probably should have eaten dinner. But basic necessities can wait when good fortune unexpectedly lands you in one of the nation’s largest and most remote National Parks with a canoe, a fly rod, and a single day to spare. How could anyone sleep on such a beautiful night with fish rising on glass-calm water? The mania of the Land of the Midnight Sun is in full effect. Blurry_Grayling.jpg One of the many hungry grayling taking dry flies with enthusiasm. Sometimes it’s more important to #keepemwet than get a good photo. Photo by Sam Weis It’s not easy to find yourself in Wrangell St. Elias. Alaska itself is difficult for most people to reach. Add on the fact that this National Park is hundreds of miles from any major city or airport and it takes a significant effort for anyone to make it to this remote wilderness. Even as Alaskans, if it weren’t for the good fate of finding ourselves with an extra day on the tail-end of a ten-day road trip from Wisconsin to Alaska, my wife Jenny and I may never have made it here. It was only by coincidence that we saw a sign for the National Park as we began looking for a place to spend the day and camp for the night. A few miles down a bumpy gravel road and we quickly realized we had stumbled our way into an unforgettable landscape and fly-fishermen’s paradise. Kendesnii_Lake.jpg Jenny Weis casts for Dolly Varden on a clear morning on Kendesnii Lake. Photo by Sam Weis It is precisely its difficult access that makes this park remarkable. Unlike the amusement-park like atmosphere in the front country of popular National Parks like Yellowstone or Rocky Mountain National Park where one often finds himself fighting crowds, even the most accessible areas of Wrangell St. Elias provide solitude and feel like taking a step back in time. It’s easy to imagine how John Muir felt as he entered the Yosemite Valley as you cast a fly on remote streams overlooking awe-inspiring mountains and river valleys. Anglers can easily find solitude chasing an abundance of fish species including Arctic grayling, Dolly Varden, lake trout, rainbow trout, steelhead, cutthroat trout, sockeye, silver, and king salmon as well as northern pike. River_Crossing.jpg Fishing is more than sport in this park. Alaskan Native communities have relied on the fish that swim in its rivers and lakes for thousands of years. This subsistence culture remains strong in the park today. This simply is unlike other National Parks. There is no entrance fee. Camping is free at a first-come-first-serve basis at any of the few campgrounds along the road. Tonight we’re at the most popular campground on the north side of the park, a 15-site facility located on a lake tucked away in boreal forests in the shadows of the Wrangell Mountains. Though it’s midnight on a beautiful Friday on Memorial Day weekend, we’re only sharing the campground with a few others and there are plenty of open spots to camp. Driving the single gravel road into the north side of the park this afternoon we saw only three other cars. And this isn’t just any gravel road. The 40-mile trek into the backcountry of the park requires crossing multiple streambeds and fording small streams. The unbelievable friendly and helpful ranger at the Slana Ranger Station said it could be done with a two-wheel drive vehicle, but I’d highly recommend bringing a 4wd. Bear.jpg On a wooden bridge crossing an unknown mountain stream we stopped the car and watched Grayling swim and feed in the crystal clear water. Catching them on dry flies was almost too easy – even for this unlucky and unskilled fisherman. Now its time to fight the Midnight Sun mania and get a few hours of sleep with dreams of pushing the canoe into the Kendensii Lake in the morning to chase more grayling and the large Dolly Varden I hear are in there. I’m crawling into the tent happy with the smell of fish on my hands. A sign on the outhouse warns of a grizzly bear frequenting the area. Wish me luck. Photo captions: Car (left): After Kendesnii Lake Campground, Nabesna Road becomes more rugged and requires multiple stream crossings. Photo by Jenny Weis. Bear warning (right): A sign on the outhouse door warns of a bear frequenting the area. Photo by Sam Weis ### Sam Weis is a board member of the Southcentral Alaska Chapter of Trout Unlimited. He lives in Anchorage with his wife Jenny where they work to conserve the state’s unparalleled salmon resource. Instagram: @bikeryder