No Politics Talk In Alaska Adventure With Don Trump, Jr. And Sons

The following appears in the July issue of Alaska Sporting Journal:

FIRST OF TWO PARTS

BY SCOTT HAUGEN

You can tell a lot about a person when the fishing is slow. You learn even more when their teenage kids are along and you’re in remote Alaska, where fish are expected to be caught on virtually every cast.

Toss in bad weather, high water and several hours of bush plane delays, multiple times, and you truly learn a person’s character. Everyone is happy when the weather is nice and the fish are biting. That’s simple.

For nearly 20 years I’ve been writing about how good the coho fishing is on Alaska’s Egegik River. Last season was slow; I’m not sure why. But spend enough time outdoors and it happens, even in remote Alaska.

“You know what; that’s fishing, and sometimes having to work at it is just what’s needed,” shared Donald Trump Jr. when I fell all over myself apologizing for how slow the fishing was. Don Jr., his two sons Donnie (14), Spencer (10) and I, along with others, fished hard for a week. Fortunately, Don has been to Alaska numerous times, as well as many other parts of the world hunting and fishing. He knows nothing is ever a guarantee, not even catching coho in Alaska. Days before our fishing trip he hunted Dall sheep in Alaska and didn’t see a ram. He gets it.

“Donnie has been to Alaska with me before,” continues Don Jr. “He’s caught coho on every cast and we had a good time, but this was Spencer’s first trip to Alaska and sometimes it’s good for kids to have to work at things.”

I’M AN OUTDOOR WRITER. I’m not a journalist. I don’t like calling people to interview them for stories. I like being in the field with people and observing. I watch, draw conclusions and share. There’s a

fine line between sharing and judging. During my week with the Trumps, I watched a lot. I’ve hunted with Don Jr., son of the former President and presumptive 2024 candidate, before. We have an unspoken rule to never talk politics. I don’t interview him either. We fish, we hunt, we share stories and enjoy being removed from the public. You don’t need to interview someone to learn about them.

Don Jr. is one of the most well-rounded outdoorsmen I’ve been with, period. There aren’t many people I’d feel comfortable having to survive in remote Alaska with should there be a plane crash, sunken boat or bear attack. Don Jr. is one of them.

I’d hunt and fish with Don anytime, anywhere, because he’s confident, knowledgeable, anticipates situations, and works hard. He’s always positive, always considering what can be done to make situations better. And above all, he’s patient. Watching Don Jr. and his two sons took me back to when my two boys were young. Whether we were fishing in Alaska or hunting in Africa, we always enjoyed our time together in the outdoors. But making each trip a success hinges on being a dad, teacher and cheerleader, all at once. You want to push them to succeed, but push too hard and it can turn them off. You want them to meet people, but not always are those people kind. You want them to be successful, but sometimes the fish simply aren’t there.

When fishing with your kids, you want to teach them techniques and enhance their ability to catch fish. This is what Don Jr. did every single day. It didn’t take long to realize the fishing was going to be slow, and instantly Don made the most of it.

“Spencer, tomorrow we’re going to drift eggs under a bobber, and the first salmon you catch we’re going to cook up for a shore lunch,” Don shared with his sons at dinner one night. And a great dinner it was, as always at Becharof Lodge on the Egegik River (becharoffishing.com).

For the next several minutes Don Jr., Donnie and Spencer were engaged in planning how they’d cook the fish. Then, Goni, the awesome cook at Becharof Lodge, happily helped the boys gather ingredients. We planned on cooking in the rain, and this included how to build a fire on the tundra with wet, limited wood.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, SPENCER caught a coho right away. He wanted to cook it on the spot. We kept fishing. Don Jr. educated his boys on how, even in Alaska, the morning bite can be the best time to catch fish. He assured them they’d cook the fish as soon as the bite slowed down. Eleven coho later, the bite slowed, it stopped raining and was reduced to drizzle.

Don cleared away some soggy moss on the tundra, exposing dirt to place sticks on to start a fire. Both boys headed to a rocky spot on a knoll and gathered armloads of dead, miniature willows. Don encouraged them to start gathering high, where the wind would have dried out the dead fuel and where the sandy soil provided ample drainage. The tiny sticks burned hot.

Don taught Spencer how to fillet the coho so they could cook it. They placed the coho fillet in aluminum foil. Salt, pepper and butter were added and the package set on the coals. We sat around the fire and watched the coho cook, telling old stories and laughing. It was perfect.

This was one of the highlights of the trip for me. Going to such effort would have been an inconvenience for many, but not Don Jr. He knew the fishing was slow, and in an effort to take the focus off that, seized the opportunity to teach his boys how to build a fire and cook their catch in one of the wettest habitats in North America.

On another day we planned on going on a flyout fishing trip to a remote stream. Mark Korpi, one of the co-owners of Becharof Lodge on the Egegik River, was in communication with the bush plane pilot in King Salmon. All morning we battled fog. One minute it was clear at Becharof Lodge and at the same time foggy in King Salmon, so the pilot couldn’t leave. After five hours of waiting, we called it off, for there wouldn’t be enough time to get to the stream and fish it. The entire time the Trumps were troopers; they were never down, never discouraged and understood that the bush pilots always have the final say when it comes to traveling in remote Alaska.

WE HIKED TO BECHAROF Lake the next day. Becharof is Alaska’s second largest lake. It’s the headwaters of the Egegik River and the fishing can be spectacular there.

On my first cast I caught a fat coho. Donnie quickly followed with a big buck. Spencer waded amid big boulders in chest-deep water, hopped atop a big, flat rock and caught four coho by noon. He dubbed it Spencer’s Rock. He fished it another day, catching coho by casting spinners and floating BnR Tackle Soft Beads with cured eggs beneath them. Between bites we combed the shoreline and ate wild berries on the tundra.

The boys were never bored, never once complained. If they got tired and wanted to take a nap, Don let them. He knew if he pushed too hard, things could quickly turn.

And on our third day of trying we finally made it on a flyout trip. Due to high water levels the pilot dropped us on a lake well above the river we wanted to fish. It was 8 a.m. and the pilot would be backat5topickusupandheadbackto the lodge.

It poured rain the entire day. The 2-mile hike across the wet tundra through thick alders and up and down steep hills was far from easy, but the Trump boys handled it like champs. They didn’t complain one time.

“That was one of the most enjoyable flyouts I’ve ever been a part of,” said a smiling David Stumpf, head guide for Becharof Lodge, who just wrapped up his 15th season. We caught a lot of Arctic grayling and char.

The stream was high and far from easy to wade. In fact, it was difficult to wade in many places and a technical stream to fish. Don was on a mission and dissected every riffle and back eddy with precision. Toward the end of the day we came to a big, deep hole.

Fish were sparse, and then we saw one rise beneath some overhanging alders. Then another one rose. Don drifted a bead through the slot with no luck. Then he asked David for a dry fly. Over the next hour Don laid nearly every cast exactly where it needed to be and caught whopper grayling – lots of them – including one over 20 inches. I’ve fly fished in a lot of places with some exceptional casters, and Don Jr. tossed a fly as good as anyone I’d ever seen.

As we hiked out of the river and back up to the lake to meet the floatplane, the cloud layer dropped and fog began to build. It was a long, hard hike and we were all sweating by the time we got there. Don and I were thinking the same thing – the visibility was so poor, there was a chance we’d have to spend the night. David had a little tent that would have fit two, maybe three people. I think Donnie and Spencer were pumped with the prospects of possibly camping out. There was no fear or panic, just rational thinking that helped turn a potentially frightful situation into something exciting. But as darkness closed in, the bush pilot made it to us, barely.

THE MORE TIME YOU spend in the outdoors, the more you realize a successful trip isn’t always measured in numbers. Sometimes the most valued experiences are a result of making something out of nothing, getting to know people and finding the positives.

I’ve fished with a lot of folks over the decades and my time with the Trumps was most memorable, not because of their name, but because of the kind of people they are: positive, supportive, fun and always willing to take on a challenge.

Don Jr. recognized that slow fishing was the perfect opportunity to teach his sons about overcoming challenges, something they’ll face throughout life. I look forward to our next adventure together. ASJ

Editor’s note: Next month Scott will hunt ptarmigan with Donald Trump Jr. To book fishing and bird hunting adventures in Alaska, visit scotthaugen.com. Follow Scott’s adventures on Instagram and Facebook.