Here's the magnificent Marv doing his field work in the Yukon in the sixties, photographer unknown.
In the summer of 1967, we accompanied dad on one of his field trips to Eagle, Alaska, smack dab on the Alaska/Canada border. It was a long, dusty drive from Anchorage to Eagle (pop. 68). Once there, he had a helicopter at his disposal, so one fine day, judt for kicks, the pilot flew Alf and me to a remote lake where no one had ever fished. Virtually every cast we made brought back a beautiful rainbow trout. It was one of the few times I was able to catch anything than other lost fishing lures.