Fishing the Skeena River and Reaching the Pacific Coast

Life Along the Skeena River

Sleep came in short stretches during our first few nights in Terrace, British Columbia.

The campground sat near the railroad tracks, and several times each night the sound of passing trains echoed through the valley. Just as we would drift off, another train would rumble through, its whistle bouncing off the surrounding mountains. It wasn't exactly restful, but somehow it felt fitting. We were far from home, living outside our normal routines, and settling into a part of British Columbia that already felt different from anywhere we'd experienced before.

When morning arrived, Kyle was usually headed toward the Skeena River before I had even finished my coffee. On one particular morning, three anglers had already beaten him there, each hoping to connect with a salmon before the day truly began.

I stayed behind for a while, getting camp organized and spending time with Ollie and Miya before eventually making my way down to the river a few hours later.

The clouds hung low over the valley, occasionally parting just enough to reveal glimpses of towering mountains beyond. As the morning slowly gave way to afternoon, the landscape revealed itself piece by piece.

By the time the skies finally opened, we found ourselves staring at one of the most beautiful views of the entire trip so far.

The Skeena River flowed below us in shades of turquoise that almost seemed unreal. Fall colors lined the riverbanks while mountains rose in every direction. It felt like one of those places that photographs can never fully capture.

The longer we sat there, the harder it became to think about leaving.

Fall Arrives in Northern British Columbia

As the afternoon stretched on, a black bear appeared across the river.

Moments like that seemed to happen often during this trip. One minute we'd be talking about fishing, dinner plans, or where we might camp next, and the next we'd be reminded that we were traveling through truly wild country.

That evening, we found ourselves reflecting on everything that had happened over the previous week.

Fall had arrived in northern British Columbia. The leaves had already begun changing throughout the valley, painting the landscape in shades of gold and yellow. Against the bright blue skies and turquoise river, the colors felt almost impossibly vibrant.

It felt like we were watching summer quietly hand things over to autumn.

Later that evening, Kyle settled into camp for a quick nap while I grabbed my camera and headed back down to the water.

The light was perfect.

The mountains reflected softly across the river while the changing leaves glowed beneath the fading sunlight. Some of my favorite photographs from the entire adventure came from that evening along the Skeena.

It was one of those moments where nothing particularly dramatic was happening, yet everything felt memorable.

Waterfalls, Bull Trout, and Unexpected Friendships

The next morning began much the same way.

We woke early and returned to the river, hopeful that persistence would finally pay off. The fish had other plans.

By afternoon, we decided to take a break from fishing and explore a nearby hiking trail instead.

The path wound through dense forest before opening to one of the most incredible waterfalls I have ever seen.

The waterfall seemed to stretch endlessly down the mountainside, powerful and graceful all at once. The surrounding forest felt alive with mist and sound, and for several minutes neither of us could do much more than stand there and stare.

It was the kind of place that makes you feel very small in the best possible way.

Along the trail, we met Robert, a traveler from Switzerland who was exploring western Canada. One of my favorite parts of road trips has always been the people you meet along the way. Conversations that begin as casual small talk often become some of the memories that stick with you the longest.

Later that day, we discovered an incredible river access point and decided to make a few casts before heading back to camp.

That's when Kyle landed his first-ever bull trout.

Watching his excitement was almost as memorable as the fish itself. We had already seen incredible scenery and wildlife throughout British Columbia, but there was something special about seeing a goal come together after days of effort.

Not long afterward, we met Toby and his father from Calgary. They shared stories from their own adventures and offered valuable advice about the road ahead.

Once again, we were reminded that some of the best parts of travel come from the people you never planned to meet.

The Day We Finally Figured Out Salmon

The next morning felt different before we ever left camp.

Maybe it was optimism. Maybe it was determination. Whatever it was, I couldn't shake the feeling that this would be the day we finally caught salmon.

Over the previous several days, we had spent countless hours fishing around Terrace, British Columbia. We had explored new water, talked with locals, watched other anglers find success, and slowly learned the rhythms of the river. Every day felt like we were getting a little closer, but the breakthrough still hadn't come.

As we pulled into the parking area that morning, we stopped at the regulations board one more time. We carefully checked the boundaries, retention limits, and any bait restrictions before heading toward the water. Northern British Columbia takes its fisheries seriously, and we wanted to make sure we were doing everything correctly.

While we were reviewing the regulations, we met JJ, a local guide who immediately made us feel welcome. Like so many people we encountered throughout Canada, he was generous with his knowledge.

A few minutes later, I stepped into the river and made my first cast of the morning.

My rod doubled over.

Fish on.

Within moments, I was staring at my very first salmon.

A bright pink salmon with a massive humpback that looked almost prehistoric. The fish was beautiful, powerful, and completely different from anything I had ever caught before.

To this day, I still don't know why we weren't filming.

Pink salmon after pink salmon found their way to the bank. Every cast carried possibility. Every fish taught us something new. The uncertainty we'd been feeling during our first days in Terrace slowly gave way to confidence.

For the first time, it felt like everything was clicking.

At one point, I headed back to the truck to check on Ollie and Miya and grab the net. While I was gone, Kyle hooked into something different.

Moments later, Kyle landed his first coho salmon of the trip.

The fish we had spent days thinking about.

Watching him hold that coho instantly shifted something inside me.

I made up my mind right then and there.

I wasn't leaving without catching one myself.

The train roared through the valley as it had every day since we'd arrived. Kyle worked his way farther down the river while I continued casting, determined to make every opportunity count.

Then it happened.

My rod loaded up and a powerful fish surged.

Fish on!

The fight felt completely different. Stronger. Faster. More deliberate.

A few minutes later, I was standing on the bank staring at my first coho salmon.

After days of learning, adapting, and putting in the work, we had finally done it.

We each caught our limit.

As we packed up our gear that evening, there was a feeling of satisfaction that's difficult to describe. It wasn't just about catching fish. It was about everything that led up to that moment, the early mornings, the missed opportunities, the conversations with strangers, the lessons learned, and the persistence required to keep showing up.

Some victories feel bigger because they're earned.

This was one of them.

Looking Toward Alaska

The following morning, we packed camp and prepared to continue north.

Only a week earlier, Alaska had felt impossibly far away. It was the destination we had spent months planning around, the place we'd talked about during countless conversations, route-planning sessions, and gear checks back in Michigan.

Now it felt different.

For the first time, Alaska felt close.

The mountains were getting bigger. The roads were becoming more remote. Every mile north seemed to carry a little more anticipation than the last.

At the same time, neither of us wanted to rush through what was right in front of us. British Columbia had already given us so much: wildlife encounters, mountain views, incredible fishing, new friendships, hidden waterfalls, and memories we'll carry for the rest of our lives.

Some of the most meaningful moments were happening along the way.

Still, as we pointed the truck north and watched Terrace disappear in the rearview mirror, we couldn't help but wonder what waited ahead.

Alaska was no longer just a dream on a map it was finally within reach.

Part 3 continues our journey north through some of the most beautiful roads in the world through British Columbia as we make our way toward Alaska.