Its a job you probably haven’t heard a lot about.
Basically, a creek walker counts fish, estimates of salmon populations, help the science folk manage fisheries and monitor overall health of returning fish to their natural streams.
It pays a moderate wage for a job that requires you pack a firearm to defend yourself from wildlife. No such thing as danger pay, understandably some would leave early. Even if things don’t go sideways it is still a challenge knowing you’re three hours from any help
getting to you . Always but one boat problem away from spending the night on a beach somewhere or worse, one grizzly bear encounter away from the headlines and folklore of your locality.
The job entails travel by bush plane, helicopters, jet boats and rafts. Government supplies all the food you can eat. It was my experience, you would learn to coexist with a creek walking comrade. For two months you work together , watch each others back and handle whatever comes your way.
As you walk and learn ,you become as much a part of the years salmon run as the seals, eagles or the bears. A daily silent prayer for safe passage and grace …. the fun begins.
I can honestly say that with a little coaxing I might remember every stroll on every stream . Remembering my career going back to 1982. . It was there I felt at home, content and happy in my good fortune.
Walking on the darker grizzly trails or basking in the sun amongst the splashing of spawners, I had truly found a ringside seat to enjoy nature at its finest.
Always wishing I could share the experience with my friends.. I thought I could write a book about these places or maybe an album.