It began to rain a lot in Homer, and it felt like it was time to get on the road. I was tired of paying for showers, crawling into the truck to sleep. I stopped at a small stream on the Kenai to try for trout. The big crowds were fishing for sockeye and no where to be seen. I had the stream to myself. It use to be a great king salmon stream, but walking 200 yards upstream I only counted a dozen or so.King fishing is prohibited now, but it's probably too late for them. They were huge, three feet long, and they were red, roughly the color of David Bowie's leather pants. And I saw trout and char in there flashing, eating the eggs of the great fish. I caught them, one after another, on a white sculpin with a stinger hook. These were fat, 16 to 20 inch fish. I caught them for hours. Finally, I cut the fly off and stuck it in a log for the next fishermen to find. It was time to head home. My fish, enough for a year, was ready at the processor's.