Another Year Comes to a Close #30

There are only a handful of times during the year that I can say I really do not look forward to. The first snowstorm that blankets the ground and makes everything slippery is one. When the cold finally sets in and you have to go from the medium thickness jacket to the full all-out assault on cold thickness jacket would be the second. When you get to the North Maine Woods checkpoints and find them all boarded up and abandoned for the year, (November 23^rd this year) is another.  But the one thing that really bothers me the most is when I have to clean the rifle, and put the shells and hunting clothes up for the season. That means that we have gone through a full year of fishing and hunting and all that is left is snow and cold for the next five months. Now, I do spend time skiing, which helps pass the time, but my mind is really continually calculating the remaining time until I can see bare ground, warmer temperatures and the emergence of my fishing pole. That means that I have successfully weathered another winter and it is time to get out there and go back to what I love the most, the outdoors.

It has been a great year overall. I have done as much fishing as humanly possible and have spent as much time in the woods hunting both birds and deer as I could. I have ventured into new ponds, scouted new roads and made new friends. TC and I have spent a lot of time together and she has really begun to enjoy being out there with a fly rod, and this year getting to know a shotgun. We have been fortunate to have another great crop of partridge this year, and I am extremely impressed and pleased at the amount of sign I saw while hunting deer. One such adventure we had this year while deer hunting in the North Maine Woods was when TC and I left the truck and were walking into a chopping that had been regenerated with small firs. About two hundred yards into the chop, I noticed two deer standing about 125 yards down from us. One deer was looking our way and the other was looking in the opposite direction. I pulled up the rifle, scoped the deer and found them to be both does.  I dropped the rifle and continued to look at them, but what I did not see was the deer behind them and the deer to the right of them just into the woods a bit. TC saw the deer in the back take off running, but was not sure what it was. Then all of a sudden the deer on the right spun around and jumped off into the woods taking the two does with it. I only saw the back end, but from what I saw, it had to have been a buck. With the lack of snow, it was impossible to follow them and in no time, they were nowhere to be found.  They are such an amazing animal when you see them bounding over whatever is in their way.

Now, I don’t want you to think that everything is over, because it is not. There is something called Muzzle loading season where you have an extra week here in Northern Maine to hunt with a black powder rifle, and I have one of those contraptions. I do plan to get out a day or so and revisit the areas that had such promise during the regular firearms season.  At this juncture, I don’t care if I see a deer or not, just being able to get out and enjoy what this area has to offer is enough for me.  And after this week is over and I put away all of my hunting gear, I can unequivocally say that it was a great year, and I did most everything TC and I had set out to do. And as the sun sets this coming Saturday and the entire hunting season fades away, I have no regrets. After Christmas, I will pull out the fly tying vice and material and add to my inventory for the coming year, all be it with one eye to the ground waiting for the weather to warm up, the snow to be gone, and the ice to go out on the water. That will be my cue to pull out the fishing gear and start a new season.

What’s in a Name?  #29

The first couple of days of deer hunting season are really important to me. That doesn’t mean that the rest is not, however, those first couple of days are when I pack my bags and make the trip over to the western Maine area, and in particular, Rangeley. Now, I have been going there this first week for many years and have come to really enjoy what Rangeley has to offer in terms of the area to hunt and the people that live there.  My friend owns a camp on Rangeley Lake and that is the staging area for our hunting activities. I have had very good luck there over the years, and not only that, but I get to spend time with some guys I don’t generally get to see that often.

Now, Rangeley is an interesting town. I have come to know some of the inhabitants of the community and look forward to seeing them during my visit. You can be sure that most of them will come through the doors of the local pub there called Sarge’s at some point while I am there.  The interesting thing about that is I have never been told what their real names are. Yes, some folks around the Rangeley area have very interesting names that appear to have been given to them a long time ago. I must say, in most cases, they fit the part to a tee.

Take for example, Batman. He is the local driver there that you call upon when you want to make sure that you can have a good time at the local pub and not have to drive back to camp. During the winter, he works at Saddleback Mountain. If you want to know what is shaking in Rangeley, Batman can tell you. He has the up to the minute news scoop and is not afraid to color it in a way that will have the tears coming down your cheeks from laughter. Once, Batman had the door handle taken off his Toyota Camray. When he was asked if he was going to replace it, he said, heck no, a piece of rawhide works just as well and costs a whole lot less. While he was taking us back to camp one night this year, he turned around to us in the back seat and said, turn the tunes on. Apparently, the car does not have a working radio, so to provide a calm enjoyable atmosphere while you ride; he has a boom box with tapes. We finally figured out how to turn it on, and he kept asking for us to turn it up which we did. The songs were right out of the 60’s and we laughed all the way to the camp. If you recall the old Batman days, he always had music going when he was riding in the bat mobile. Need I say more?

The next character is Rooster. Now Rooster is a nice young man just scratching to get by and during his travels, got off the track. He did come through the doors at Sarge’s one night and came right over to our table. He told us that he was just out for a ride on his Harley and was living the good life. From talking to him, it seemed that he was really trying to keep the bus on the road and not let it drive off the embankment.

Duck would be the next character. Now if you were to see him, you would know why he is called Duck. He is the cook at Sarge’s and is very dedicated to his work. This year, Duck was so busy that he did not get a chance to come over and talk with us other than to say Hi as he passed. And as he passed, he kind of waddled by. Not to mention he kind of has the profile down pat.

There are a number of other characters in that area, and we hear and see them just about every time we are over there. They include Hoggie, Rum Belly and a new one I met this year, Hobbit. Now, I just met Hobbit this year for the first time and I have to say, he looks just like a Hobbit right down to his sneakers, that by the way don’t have any laces.

To make this even more intriguing, while hunting, we came across a blue haired troll sitting on a stump. At first, we looked at it and wondered how it had gotten there. Then our imagination got the best of us and we remembered we were in Rangeley and anything can happen….

I am sure there are more folks that I have not met and some interesting names I have not heard. The resounding theme that keeps coming back every time I visit is that of a group of people proud of where they live and working hard to make ends meet. Rangeley is truly a beautiful place to visit both from the hunting and fishing aspect, as well as the winter sports it has to offer. As I leave each year, I think to myself how lucky I am to have been able to spend time there, and I can’t wait until hunting season the next year and the chance to get caught up with all the folks. It is truly an adventure right out of a fairy tale novel. Oh, and did I say that the hunting is great too…

I Don’t Need To!  #28

Peter Davies had it all, a great family, a good practice that he had built from time, and he was well known in the community. He volunteered to help with community events, owned and piloted his own boat and cruised up and down the coast on weekends with his wife. He enjoyed fishing while on the boat, pulling in prize fish that so often the sea would offer him. Yes, Peter had it all. But Peter also had another side that few people knew of or concerned themselves with. Peter thought that he knew it all. He didn’t need any help from others, because when push came to shove, he had gotten out of messes on his own all his life.

So, when his friend Joe told him that he was going to take a hunters safety course, just as a refresher, and asked if Peter would like to tag along, Peter remarked, why do I need that? I know all about the woods and gun safety. I have never been lost and I have never injured anyone with a gun. Joe told him that he was taking it to refresh his skills and to get more familiar with the compass and the map. But, Peter continued to resist and in the end told Joe that he knew all of that stuff and had no use for the course or the waste of time in attending.

Fall came, and Peter was invited to join some of his friends for a couple of days of bird hunting. He was excited and gathered all of his gear including his in preparation for his trip to the woods. The day came when Peter loaded the car and took off to meet the gang. He arrived at the camp late in the day tired from the trip north. He spent the afternoon and evening socializing with the guys and had far more to drink than he should have. That evening, he found his way to his bed in the camp and passed out quickly. In the morning, the guys woke Peter up and told him to get ready as they were heading out to hunt. Peter, still feeling the effects from the night before, got his gear together and loaded it in the truck of the guy he was riding with that day named Bill. As they cruised the dirt roads, Peter had a shell in his hand and the gun by his side ready to jump out when a bird showed up. Shortly into the ride, both he and Bill spotted a bird on the side of the road. Peter loaded his gun and then jumped out of the truck. He started to walk toward the bird so as to close the gap between the two of them. Bill walked alongside him with his gun loaded. Just as they got to within shooting range, the bird took flight. Peter wielded around with gun raised and the muzzle of the gun passed right in front of Bill’s head. Peter continued to swing the gun by Bills head and pulled the trigger, but missed the bird. Bill immediately let Peter know that he had just pointed a loaded gun at him and not only that, but the gun was loaded in a truck which was against the law. Peter replied that he had total control of the gun at all times and would never have placed Bill in any danger. Bill told him to be more careful and not to load his gun while in Bills truck again.

When Bill and Peter got back to the camp, Bill told everyone about his day and what had happened with Peter. Everyone remarked that they were concerned about it, but Peter was such a nice guy that they hated to make an issue of it.

The next day, Peter and Bill once again paired up and struck out to find birds. About half way through the day, they ran into a flock of six birds standing on the road. Both Bill and Peter jumped out of the truck, loaded their guns and began firing at the birds. They both got one, and the others flew into the woods. Bill walked down the road to pick up his bird and all of a sudden, he heard a shot and it felt like a noise went right by his head. Bill swung around to find that Peter had seen a bird in the grass right next to Bill and had fired. As he began to say something to Peter, he noticed that Peter was reloading his gun and was running into the woods yelling, I just saw another one. Bill stayed calm and watched as Peter went out of sight. Minutes went by and Bill heard nothing. Bill yelled to Peter to see if he saw anything, but got no answer. Bill wanted to go into the woods, but was afraid of being in the same area as Peter, so he waited as more time passed. Finally after fifteen minutes passed and he had no contact with Peter, Bill decided to go see if he was ok. Bill pulled out his GPS and marked a waypoint where his truck was. He put his compass around his neck and started into the woods calling for Peter, but got no answer. Bill noticed that as he got off the road, the woods thickened and were very dark and grown in from the softwood trees. For twenty minutes, Bill went deeper and deeper into the woods yelling for Peter. Finally, Peter answered him and said, I am not sure how to get out, can you please come help me. Bill plotted a course to Peter using his voice and told Peter to stay where he was and not move. Eventually Bill got to where Peter was all huddled up. He noticed that Peter was soaked from sweat. He then took his GPS and plotted a course back to his truck with Peter alongside him. Once in the truck, Peter told Bill that he had seen a bird by the road and followed it into the woods. He kept seeing it and kept going deeper and deeper into the woods until he realized that he did not know where he was nor did he know how to get out. He wandered around trying to find his way out, but nothing reminded him of the path he took when he came in.

Once back at the camp, Peter walked over to Bill and thanked him for all he had done for him. He told Bill that he really thought he knew it all, but the few days he had spent with him reminded him of the lack of knowledge and skill he had. He told Bill that as soon as there was a hunter’s safety course available, he was going to sign up, and he was going to find some reading material to help him understand not only compass and GPS reading, but what you do if you are lost in the woods. Peter pledged to be a different hunter if they invited him back next year.

Do you know the moral of this tale? Can you pick out the things that Peter did wrong? What would you do differently if you were Peter? What would you do if you were Bill?

Cast and Blast, Anyone?  #27

As much as I enjoy the summer, and all the possibilities it has to offer us, I must admit that I am more partial to the fall. Now, that does require that I put my fly rod up and take out the guns, and that can be a bit traumatic for me.  However, there is a small, brief, window of time known to us die hards as “Cast & Blast” day.  Translated, that means that you fish just before the day the fishing season ends and then hunt the first day of the new season. And that, my friends is exactly what I did this year. Now, it is a wonderful thing when your wife says to you, I think you need to take a day off so we can go into the woods and fish one last time.  And so, TC and I set out last Friday for the North Maine Woods and one of our favorite ponds. Among other things, we packed the Coleman stove, some pots and our food; because it is always better this time of year to have a hot meal for lunch.  We spent the day on the pond and had some very good luck as the trout were willing to cooperate. Once we arrived at the pond, we found that we were not the only people to have the same idea. There were three men coming off the pond who had been there since early morning, and there were three people just preparing to shove off. While we were getting our equipment ready, we got a chance to talk with the folks coming off the pond. They were from the Bangor area and were staying at the Island Pond campsite. They had the same idea as we did and were doing a little fishing and then on Monday were going to do some bird hunting.  The group just going on the pond was from the Freeport, Durham area and was staying at Bradford Camps.  TC and I had a great day and brought home two trout. The woods were just beginning to show some great colors as the leaves were changing, and I knew that in a couple of days, they would be at peak color and there is no better site than that.

Now, the second part of the Cast & Blast began on Sunday when I headed up to Chandler Lake Camps to meet a group of 12 that was coming in to do some bird hunting.  All summer long, I had seen a lot of partridge and was really excited to start the new season. During the two days that we as a group hunted, we were not disappointed. The number of birds that we saw was unbelievable. After Tuesday, it was apparent that they were showing up in cycles.  You would see them early in the morning and then it would stop until late afternoon when they would come out again. We all had a great time and I even got to see a bear on the road during my travels. That coupled with a few moose, a couple of them very big, help complete a couple of wonderful days.

You know, our hunting group was comprised of folks from all over.  We had people from southern Maine, Vermont, Ohio and even one who now calls Texas home. I know I heard the same comment several times which I always keep in mind as I live and play here, and that comment was “ I can’t believe what you folks have here in Northern Maine, it is very special.”  They of course were referring to the North Maine Woods. Every time I heard that comment, I thought that I considered myself very lucky, indeed. And as Aroostook County is referred to as the Crown of Maine, I guess we could call the North Maine Woods the “Jewel of Northern Maine.”

And as I was driving out of the Jewel on Wednesday morning, looking at the woods and the brilliant colors that the trees were now sporting, I considered myself lucky and honored to be able to be just one of the many that pass through its gates and take part in what it has to offer. I will never lose sight of that fact.

Updates:

One of my readers sent my blog address to his Navy Seal friend and told him to read the blog about the Navy Seal and his dog.  Through that reader, I got an email back from the Seal who wrote the following:

Regarding your friend's post, give him a hooya from me. As you're an honorary part of the brotherhood, you understand how difficult a time that was for us. Nice to know that the spirit of the Team runs far and wide, even as far as northern Maine! I've always said that we'd all be much better off if we could emulate the selfless dedication of a dog to his master. Thanks again for sharing; it'll travel.

On another note, we traveled miles and miles in the woods this weekend in search of partridge that were not showing up well at all. When I came to work this morning, there was a spot on the window of one of our managers where something had hit it from outside. When I looked to the ground, there laid a partridge who must have died from the impact. Go figure.

Now, to Little Kearston and an update. I have been following her mother’s Facebook page and it appears that although Kearston is going through a lot right now, she is doing ok. We are keeping her in our prayers.

Can you tell me where the time has gone?  #26

Have you ever caught yourself saying, “Where did the time go?” Was it related to your children and their growing up way to fast?  Well I do seem to say that from time to time, and this past week was no exception. TC and I were fortunate to have had both our sons home for a visit. Now, what do you think an avid fisherman would do during a visit with their family that loves to fish? If you said fish, you got the gold star for the day. TC, the two boys and I went to the woods on Thursday and came out Friday night. After going through the six mile checkpoint, we headed to Churchill Dam to show the boys what that area had to offer. While there, they both got to fish just below the red stakes at the dam and really had a great time catching fish. We took lots of photos of them with their waders on working their way downstream. At the end of the day, we had a long journey back to Chandler Lake Camps where we were staying for the night, so we called them out of the water, which they were reluctant to do, and headed back down the Pelletier and Pelletier road to the camp.

The next day, we left the camps and headed to our old reliable fishing hole, Ragged Mountain Pond and spend the day fishing. The weather was great, the company was wonderful and the fish cooperated very well. We ended up putting a lot of fish back, but did come out with three nice trout. As we were packing to leave, our youngest let us know that he really didn’t want to leave, so we had them go back out in the canoe while we finished packing. As we were driving out, I looked in the rear view mirror at both boys in the back seat of the truck. They were both sound asleep. It made me think of the times when they were young and we would go on a trip and they would be fast asleep in the backseat in no time.

They both had to head back to their respective homes the following day, and TC and I were both saddened that the time had gone so quickly. Each has his own life now, but they really enjoy coming back and spending time with us which we appreciate and enjoy as much as them. I could not help but watch their faces in that canoe when they got a fish. It reminded me of times passed when they were still young. It brought a lot of satisfaction to both TC and I that they had a good time while they were here.  

You always wish the best for your children, and TC and I are no exception. You cherish the time you have with them and the time when they are home growing up. But when they leave to their own lives, you cherish the time spent with them even more, and you catch yourself saying, as I did, where did the time go?

From the INBOX:
I heard from a reader who read my blog on little Kearston. He sent the blog to his daughter who works for the American Cancer Society. Alison got back to me and wants to be kept apprised of Kearstons progress. If we hear of any updates, we will surely do so.

We all need to be thankful!  #25

You know, I am fortunate. I am very thankful that I have been healthy enough to do the things I want to do. Stop and think for a minute about the things we take for granted every day of our lives.  In my life, I get to choose when I want to hunt and fish. Where I want to go to hunt and fish, and how long I want to stay there.  I get to plan for these excursions without having to worry about other things that might prevent me from doing them, like my health.

TC and I are proud of where we grew up. The people in Fort Kent, not unlike other towns and cities, are hardworking folks that really care about the people around them. We are just a bit more partial to them and what they do. We get back to Fort Kent as much as we can, but not like years past when our family was all together and we visited relatives there.  We still keep tabs on them, and somehow feel their pain when something happens there. In this particular case, the town is joining together to help one of its own.  She is a little 3 year old girl who has been diagnosed with a form of childhood leukemia, and her name is Kearston Albert.

Now, TC and I have never met Kearston or her family but my friends on Facebook from Fort Kent have kept us all informed about her illness and their desire to help the family. See, that is what folks in Fort Kent do so well. They are already developing fundraisers for her and her family to help them as they go forward.  I also read about Kearston in an article that was well done by the Bangor Daily News on September 12.  The article spoke of her mother and how she told Kearston that they were both princesses and were going to slay the dragons together.  My heart melted when I continued to read the article, and after some of her treatments, Kearston told her mother that she didn’t want to slay the dragons anymore.

TC and I will be following Kearston as she travels down the road to recovery.  And I know that our friends in Fort Kent will keep us posted on her progress.  It also puts in perspective for me how lucky I have been and currently am. Each of us needs to remember that as we wake up every day. I know for sure that the next time I go in the woods; I will remember how fortunate I am.

Kearston, you keep slaying those dragons with your mom until you have gotten every last one.  Remember, that you have folks you don’t even know who are thinking of you and your family. We will be keeping track of your progress. That’s what folks from Fort Kent do.

http://bangordailynews.com/2012/09/12/news/aroostook/community-rallies-for-3-year-old-fort-kent-girl-with-leukemia/

My day with Rosaire  #24

If you read my blogs, you know that I wrote one back in April about an older fisherman that I have spent time with over the years. Well, last week, TC told me that it was time to head back to the St John Valley and do some fishing. As you might expect, I jumped at the chance to get up there and to spend some time with Rosaire. Now he is 87 years young and is still going strong. He has been fishing all summer and at certain times, has been doing quite well.  Well, a quick call to him generated a favorable response and up I went.

When I got there, he was just about ready to go. Now, he doesn’t move as fast as he used to, however, he is quick on his feet when it’s time to go fishing. We also invited his oldest son Paul to join us. When I was on the phone with him, I asked where he wanted to go. As always, he said you choose. When we got ready to go, he let me know that we were going to McLean Lake.

Off we went to the lake with Rosaire in front and Paul in the back seat. When we got there, it was a short walk into the Lake from the road where we parked the truck. We carried all the equipment down to the Lake and let Rosaire walk down in his own time. When we got there, we inspected the shoreline and Rosaire did his walk around to make sure all was to his liking. We got in the boat and paddled out. I asked Rosaire where he wanted to fish and he responded, “You are the captain, I’ll go where you want.” That was short lived, because as I was paddling to a spot that I liked the looks of, he quickly told me that we needed to go somewhere else and that spot was not good.  My captain’s job was once again short lived.  

We fished for about 4 hours and Paul caught five trout, but we were fishless. Toward the end, Rosaire let me know, jokingly, that he was two fish short of his limit. That has significance, because the limit on that lake is two fish. At about 7pm, I noticed that Rosaire reeled his line in, took his reel off, and took his pole apart. I asked if that was a signal that he was done and he said yes. He let me know that there were no fish jumping and it was time to go. So, we paddled to the shore, got all the stuff and walked up the path to the truck. I went back to get the things Rosaire was carrying so as to lighten his load. He finally made it to the truck and we headed back to Fort Kent.

All in all, it was a good day. We had not caught any fish, but I got to spend time with an 87 year old man who had a passion for fishing. It has never ceased to amaze me that notwithstanding his age, Rosaire is very agile. He is not as fast as I remember him being in past years, but just being able to fish is a tall order and he does it well. I look forward to next year. Maybe he will really let me be the captain of the boat then. I think not.

The Ballad of Parker & Sage  #23

This is a short story about Parker and Sage as witnessed by me while fishing at Fourth Musquacook Lake this week. It is also a vivid reminder of the power of animals and what they can bring to us in terms of teaching tools.

Parker and Sage are very young in their life. They are both around 1 year old. Parker is the male and Sage is the female. Both are English Setters and are owned by Sherry Morris. Parker and Sage are brother and sister although they are fathered by the same dog, they have different mothers.  Sherry told me when she got them earlier this year, and I continued to watch them on Facebook where she posted updates about them and their antics.  TC and I stopped into Chandler Lake Camps earlier this year and met them for the first time. Clearly, Sage was the dominant dog and Parker the understudy. At an early age, I was told that Sage took to the water and really loved it. Parker not so much, and in fact he tried to avoid it at all costs. When I first saw them, it was clear that they were inseparable. They went everywhere together, did everything together and Parker listened to Sage all the time. Well that last comment was never so true as what I was fortunate to witness that day while fishing Fourth Musquacook Lake in the north Maine woods.  The bond that those two have formed was an inspiration and a lesson we should all take something from, I know I did. Let me explain.

Tuesday afternoon, August 21, 2012, we were at Fourth Musquacook on a fishing trip. We were staying there at the lodge run by Jason Bouchard and Sherry Morris. We were having a wonderful time and had been there since Monday. We had come off the lake earlier in the day, already having had some of the best fishing I had experienced in a long time. The four of us decided to go back out in the late afternoon hours and fish the same spot until dinner time. The first boat went out ahead of my boat; frankly I think to establish a toe hold on our fishing spot we had so much luck at earlier. As my boat left the dock, I noticed that the dogs were no longer there watching us, but gave it little thought. As we got half way to the location we were headed for, which is at the head of the lake, I noticed that Parker had been following the first boat by way of the shore. I commented to my buddy that I hoped they didn’t follow us all the way to the head of the lake because I was concerned they may not find their way back. We finally got to our destination and dropped anchor next to the first boat and began fishing.  It wasn’t long before I noticed Sage was on shore close to us watching our movements. I again commented that I was amazed that they had come all this way from the camp, but was concerned that they may try to swim out to our boats. Now, at the spot they were at, was a brook that flowed away from the lake. We were parked just off shore from that brook in the lake. I then noticed that Parker had joined Sage on shore, and they were both watching us. All of a sudden, Sage jumped in the brook and crossed it to the other side of the shore. Remember that Parker does not like water that much. Parker watched and then started to cross and stopped and turned around and went back to shore. He tried again, to no avail. Sage on the other hand was watching him and barking to him to get over here. Parker tried again and then just went back. He stopped and started barking and howling to Sage. Sage, in an effort to help, jumped back in the water, swam across and went behind Parker and nudged him with her nose to cross.  He tried again but would not. She then jumped in the water again, swam across the brook and turned around on the other side and just looked at Parker. Parker tried again but as soon as his paws were in, he jumped around and then retreated to the shore. He began to howl at Sage and she again jumped in and swam back to him, and tried to coax him to swim across. He would not. This time Sage swam across, sat on the other side and just waited. He howled and would start in and retreat until he finally jumped in and did a masterful dog paddle to the other side. Once there, they jumped on each other and then bolted down the shore and kept running until they were out of sight. I had never seen anything like what I had just experienced, Sage working hard to help Parker cross the brook. It was utterly amazing and of course, once again, I did not have a video camera. We went back to fishing and a short time later, the dogs reappeared on the shore at the brook. I commented that we were going to see the earlier performance all over again and that is exactly what happened.  Sage again jumped in and crossed and then tried to get Parker to follow. He took the same position again and she crossed and tried to encourage him to come back with her.  Finally again after two crosses by Sage and all of the whining and posturing, he jumped in and crossed. Once on the other side, they jumped on each other with joy and off they ran. I watched them follow the shore of the lake, over blow downs and back toward the camp. As I reflected on what I had witnessed, it was very clear to me that dogs have a very unique way of getting their point across. Sage was determined to not leave Parker there. She was going to do whatever it took to get him across that brook so they could continue that adventure together. For her, no obstacle was too high or too great and she was going to do what it took to have her brother be with her.

When we returned to the camp, there was Parker and Sage on shore. They had made it back and were there to greet us. They had explored that side of the lake and the main thing was they had done it together thanks to Sage.

Parker is the black and white dog, and Sage is the brown and white dog.

Mr. Officer  #22

On Thursday, I attended a celebration of life mass for a man who I have fond memories of from my earlier years in Presque Isle. A man that took his responsibilities seriously, and at the same time had a great deal of compassion for those around him.

Harold Stewart, or “Bud” as he was known, was well known in Presque Isle. He had done just about everything in his lifetime. He served his country, not once but twice. He was a father, a grandfather and a champion for folks who needed him. Yes, Bud was a local attorney in Presque Isle. He dedicated his life to helping those in need. He was a tall man that could put fear in your heart just by looking at him, but as you got to know him, you found that much of that was just a mask of his true identity, a caring smart man just wanting to be your friend.

Now, you might ask why I am writing about Bud, when most of my blogs are about the outdoors. Well Bud enjoyed the outdoors and enjoyed fly fishing. But the memories I have of Bud are not about fly fishing, no, it was more along the lines of how I met him. As I sat listening to his son, Hal, talk about his father, I smiled as I recalled how I first met him and how the meetings would go time after time.

See, many years ago, thirty one to be exact, I was a law enforcement officer for the City of Presque Isle. I was new to the City having just moved here to take that position. As a greenhorn, you were always the one to bear the brunt of the jokes by the older officer, and I was no exception. I hadn’t been on the job for more than 3 months when I was called to court for my first trial. I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a traffic case where a guy had run a stop sign and I had ticketed him.  As the trial list came around, I noticed that he had pled not guilty and was being represented by Harold Stewart. At that time, I had no idea who Harold Stewart was. However, my fellow officers let me know that I was in for a rough time and to be very prepared as “Bud” would rip me to pieces once I got on the stand to testify. That rhetoric continued up until the day of trial. I showed up at the appointed time and took my place on the stand. The Assistant District Attorney walked me through the questions he had and then told the judge, who was Julian Turner, that he had no further questions of me. During my testimony and out of the corner of my eye, I had been watching this very tall dark haired man sitting at the defendants table. He had his glasses on the table and a yellow pad of paper in front of him. He had never looked up at me during my whole testimony, instead keeping his head down, while all the time seemingly writing on the pad. If you think, my fellow officers had prepped me to be afraid of him that was just an understatement of how I was feeling at that time. Judge Turner, then let it be known that it was time for cross examination and he said, Mr. Stewart, it is your witness. Bud did not move from his chair nor did he look at me for what felt like an eternity. Then all of a sudden, he picked up his glasses, rose from the table and walked over to where I was seated on the witness stand. With his glasses in hand, he began to ask me questions about what I had testified to. I was shaking all the while as he went through what felt like a long list of questions that I thought he had been writing down. As he approached the end of his questions, he stopped and said” Now Mr. Officer, he said this every time I had a trial with him. Do you expect the court to believe what you have told us? And do you want to stand on the testimony you have given this court today? My answer was Yesssss Sir. Then his final words were, do you know the penalty for perjury? Again, my answer was yes. He then backed up and gave me a very long stare with his dark eyes and looked at the judge and said, no further questions, your honor.

I had a hard time getting out of that chair, I was so scared. The judge dismissed me and I walked by Bud to where I was sitting. After the trial was over I left the court and was in the outer room, when Bud came walking out with a big smile on his face. He saw me and came right over and extended his hand to me saying you did a great job in there young fellow. I am proud of you. I have never forgotten those words to this day. What appeared to be a very tough, gruff man had taken the time to come see me and to tell me that I had done ok. From that day, on Bud and I met on a number of other cases and each time he used the same tactics as the first time I had met him. But it never had the same effect as the first time and I knew that after it was over, he would be my friend again.

I have watched his son, Hal; follow in his father footsteps, first working alongside his father as an attorney, and then taking over the family business. Hal is cut from the same cloth that his dad was and has a lot of the same qualities. In my mind, the legacy continues to live on.

May you rest in peace, Bud.

I Hear a Calling  #21

Each and every one of us hears a calling from time to time. We often take heed of that calling which helps us cope with our everyday routine. Fishermen are no different in that they know when it is time to pick up their rod and give it a go. Well, after two weeks without the woods or fishing, I heard that calling loud and clear. Maybe it was the loons darting under the water after fish and then coming up and letting their presence be known. Maybe it was the wind blowing its gentle breezes through the trees and moving the water so it slapped against the shore. And maybe, it was watching the animals moving gracefully, not caring if we were watching or nearby.

So, Friday, TC and I decided that we had been away long enough. It was time to head back in and try our hand at catching some fish. Our destination was going to be Ragged Mountain Pond in Piscataquis County. But first we had a few errands to run. I had heard that the fishing was not too good due to the hot weather we had been experiencing. Often, around this time of year, the weather is hot, the water heats up and the fish go down deep to stay cool. They might move around to feed, but chances are they are just too lazy and enjoy where they are parked.  

Our first stop was at Chandler Lake Camps to check in on Jason and Sherry. Jason was off doing what Jason does in the woods, but Sherry was there. We caught up on what had been happening and then decided to move on. It was now noon time and the sun was high in the sky. IT was over 80 degrees, and I knew the fishing was not going to be good, so TC and I decided to take a ride up to Churchill Dam. TC had never been there and I had a new appreciation for it having just finished a book entitled “Nine Mile Bridge” written by Helen Hamlin. The book detailed her time in the North Maine Woods, first as a teacher at Churchill Depot, and then as a wife of a Maine game warden, Curley Hamlin who was stationed at Umsaskis Lake. TC had not yet read it, but I thought that our visit might serve as a good backdrop for her when she did.

Our first stop at Churchill was the museum. I had not been there, but we really enjoyed seeing all the old implements that they used in the logging operations during that time. There were also many photos of the Depot and the people who made the area what it was. It was interesting to see Edward Lacroix and the others and I was really surprised to see a photo of Helen Hamlin and a brief synopsis of her book. I took TC around, visiting the dam, camping areas and the boat landing. We walked by the old boarding home, and then had a nice lunch while we listened to the water rushing through the dam. Once we had taken in all of the sites, we decided to stop one more time at the museum to check on something. When we did, we met up with Ranger Ed who was working there. We talked for a few minutes and I asked him if there was any way we could get to see the inside of the old boarding home. He finally said he would take us in, but it had to be quick. As he unlocked the door and we walked in, I felt like we went back in time to when the Depot was a booming bustling town. As we entered, we immediately saw the post office where all the mail came and went. We then went upstairs and saw the room where the people would stay. I learned that the boarding home was sectioned off into two areas. Upstairs on the left, were the rooms and on the other side of the building upstairs was a very large room where the men bunked all together. Ranger Ed pointed to the walls all around the room and asked us to look at the small dark spots approx. one foot apart, all at the same height. He told us that those spots were where the loggers slept and there head laid up against the wall. The spot was the grease on their hair that had left a lasting impression on the wall. It was unbelievable.  He then took us downstairs to where they used to eat. He pointed out a trap door in the floor and told us that was where the cooks used to throw the leftover food to the pigs that were underneath the camp. Time seemed to pass so fast, and as quickly as we entered, it was time for us to leave and Ranger Ed to go back to work. We said our good byes and thanked him for what was a very memorable trip back in time. He told us that at one point, a group had decided to restore the old boarding home and had shored it up. But, for some reason, they stopped and the renovation came to a halt. It was sad to think that this historic landmark may fall to the same fate that many other building up there did. I just wish there was something I could do to help get the project back on track and see it to completion.

We left Churchill Dam and headed back to our pond. Once there, we unloaded the boat and put on the water. I knew we were in trouble when I started my fish finder and it registered a hot 80 degree water temperature.  We fished for a while, but it was clear that we were not going to have any luck this day.

As we drove out, the conversation seemed to center around the day we had at Churchill Dam and what we had seen. I was elated to have been able to take a tour of the old boarding house. All of the reading I have done about it had only set the stage for what was a very memorable ten minutes. As I got closer to home, I thought to myself, maybe the calling was not for fishing this day. Maybe the plan all along had been to spend some time at the dam and have the pleasure of seeing the inside of the boarding home. For me, that was a calling I was glad to have listened too.

I need a new fly rod. But what type should I buy? #20

When was the last time you bought a new fly rod? Did the dealer tell you about the different kinds, and what they felt was best for you or did they tell you that a certain brand name was the best rod and the one you should have? Did they mention that there are different weights, lengths, and the most important part, the action?  Did you know that different action rods are made for different kinds of fishing, and that the action can be helpful in where you fish? Are you confused already? Well, I am no expert by any means, but I try to do my homework when it comes to purchases like these.

When it comes to the action of the rod, that is just a fancy name for how flexible the rod is. There are different actions, including fast, medium and slow. To drill down even further, Fast action rods are also called tip flex fly rods, Medium action rods, mid flex and slow action rods are called full flex fly rods.

Fast action rods are much stiffer and thus more powerful. That means that the rod is capable of casting the line further than medium or slow action fly rods. The stiffness of the rod helps generate more line speed during the cast. Fast action rods are also designed to help land larger fish. So, what are the advantages of a fast action rod? You get longer casts. You can land larger fish easier. You get better control in windy conditions and your casts can be much quicker. There are also disadvantages with a fast action rod. They really are not good when fishing smaller streams. They don’t work well with lighter tippet because the stiffness of the rod puts more strain on the tippet and they can be difficult to use for beginning fly fisherman. So, who should have a fast action rod? If you are looking for a rod that makes long consistent casts and you may be fishing in windy conditions, the fast action may be for you.

Medium action or mid flex fly rods, as they are also called, are rods that have a fair amount of flexibility, but are still somewhat stiff. The rod bends much more than a stiff flex. What this means is that the rod will bend for about half of its length from the middle of the rod to its tip. Medium action rods are the choice of most anglers and are sold the most in stores today. In the hands of a good caster, medium rods can make those long casts as well. If you plan to fish in a wide range of areas and conditions, the medium flex rod might just be the one for you. They are also suited well for beginners as well as long time casters. One of the benefits of a mid-flex rod is maximum versatility. If you can only afford one rod, this is the rod you should have.

Slow action or full flex rods are very flexible. The difference between a slow and fast action rod is significant.  They do not generate high line speed due to their flexibility. They are designed for anglers that need to make short very accurate and gentle casts. They can be effectively used on smaller rivers and brooks. They also work well with light tippet. These rods are excellent for beginners who are learning to control their line and make more accurate casts.  Advantages of this type include protecting light tippets while fishing. They are also very forgiving and are great for short casts. Disadvantages include slow line speed, not being really conducive to windy conditions and are not that versatile in different conditions.

Now, not to confuse you more but rods also come in different weights, and different weighs are used in different settings. Rods come in weights from 1 to 14, but the most common weights are 5-6.  This weight allows you the versatility to fish for small to larger fish at the same time accommodating small to larger flies. It also allows for longer casts at the same time performing well on shorter casts. My preference is the 6 weigh rod, but I must confess that I own a 5 and 8 weigh rod as well.  I have friends that use 3 weight rods and love them. Remember also that you need to match the fly line with the weight of your rod. So, if you purchase a 5 weight rod, you should purchase a 5 weight fly line. Some of the dealers tell me that you can go up or down one weight on line but I prefer to stay within the match.

This is just a guide of the different types of rods that you can purchase. I own a fast action as well as a medium action. Both have different uses and both perform very well in the environment I use them in. Both will act differently when you hook that fish and it fights you all the way to the boat.

So, the next time you feel you need a new rod, first determine what you will be using it for, what you want it to do, and from there what flex you would like. Then, go to the dealer and ask them to point out rods with that type of action.  Doing your homework will ensure that you have the right equipment, which translates into better enjoyment of the sport.  Most dealers can be a big help to you so use them. Good Luck and have fun out there!

I had a couple of friends come into town for our most recent fishing trip. They had not been here in some time, and the first thing they asked was where the old Roy’s Army & Navy store had gone. See, it used to be down on Main Street. I told them that it had been moved and the name had changed to Ben’s Trading Post. The new location was on the corner of Parsons Road and Parsons Street in Presque Isle. Ben LeBlanc is the owner and the store was fully stocked with anything you might want. Well, they just had to make a trip over there before we headed to the woods, which we did. Judging by the items they bought, they were not disappointed.

Now, I was into Ben’s the other day. See, I swear that the eyelets on those flies are getting smaller and smaller every season, so I bought one of those new-fangled magnifiers that clip on your hat. Ben saw me trying one out and began laughing. When I asked him why, he said that it reminded him of the time when he was fishing with a friend and he was trying to tie a fly on to his leader. The friend asked him what he was doing because come to find out, Ben didn’t even have the leader in his hand, because it was dangling off the side of the boat. Seems as though Ben thought he did.  Thanks Ben for making me feel better.

Guide to line weights

Fly Line Weight 1-3: Small trout, panfish, and other small fish. Used when casting small flies on short casts.

Fly Line Weight 4: Small to medium sized trout and other similarly sized fish. Used when casting small flies and medium sized flies using short to medium-short casts.

Fly Line Weight 5-6: The most versatile of the line weights. This line weight fishes well for all but the smallest and all but the largest trout. Also performs adequately for smaller bass. Fishes well when using small, medium and larger sized flies (not massive streamers, though). Allows for longer casts yet performs short casts fairly well.

Fly Line Weight 7-8: Designed for very large trout and large bass as well as some saltwater species. Used for pitching large streamers and large flies. Longer casts are excellent. Not the best for short casts, and most definitely not designed for smaller fish and smaller flies.

Fly Line Weight 9-14: Large fish territory. Mainly used for saltwater fishing and fishing for salmon.

FROM THE INBOX

I got an email from a gentleman who lives in central Maine and reads my column. He read the Churchill Dam blog and let me know that he was one of the truckers who hauled stone up to the train sites when Cianbro was hired to right and stabilize the trains on the tracks. He told me that he had not been to that area for some time but the blog and the photos of the trains brought back a lot of good memories. He is now thinking about going back up again to visit and he may bring his fly rod.  Mike, I hope you get back there soon!

I also got a number of emails on the story involving the Navy Seal and his dog. The comments you sent me were unbelievable and I appreciate you sharing your feelings. I did get a response from a reader who told me that he has a friend that is a Navy Seal and who was supposed to be on that chopper that day, but for some reason, was not. He was sent in to secure the scene after the crash. God Speed at all of them.

Web Address:

Ben’s Trading Post:

www.benstradingpost.com

Dogs Are Man’s Best Friend  #19

When was the last time you heard the statement, a dog is “man’s best friend”? Do you believe it? Is it true? If so, how can we prove that to be a fact? This blog is far from what I normally write, but something that I read made me think that this is an important topic. It is one that requires a bit of review and soul searching. So, here we go. I hope that once you read it, you will agree that our pets truly are, “man’s best friend”.

In May, I made my annual trip to Washington DC to visit the Maine delegation of Senators and Congressmen and women. I do this every year with a group of folks. During our visit, we were walking by the Senate office buildings, toward our destination at that time, lunch. As we got there, we ran into Congressman, Spencer Baucus from Alabama. Congressman Baucus, is the Chairman of the Financial Services Committee. He stopped and we talked for a while. I noticed that he was carrying several copies of a book called, Lone Survivor, written by Marcus Luttrell. He let us know that the book was about Navy Seals and their plight in both Afghanistan and Iraq. Come to find out afterward, he holds a book club luncheon where they get together and review a certain book every week or so. His comments really intrigued me, in that, on the way home in the D.C. airport; I searched out the book to purchase. Unfortunately, I did not find that particular book, but I did find the second book that Marcus wrote entitled, Service. I read the back and decided to buy it. The book was about the war in both Afghanistan and Iraq and how the Navy Seals operated. It spoke about the battles and about the loss of life. In particular, Marcus wrote about all of the navy seals in his outfit and what happened to them. It was a powerful representation of what we here in the US do not hear about or see. It documented their work and suffering in an effort to keep us here, safe and free. It made me extremely proud of the men and women who risk their lives for us every day. And, yes, we get a small dose of it from the media, but this book opened my eyes to what we do not know or see.

Well, as I got to the middle of the book, there were some photos with captions under them and then he wrote about each and every one. Keep in mind this page in the book, 246. It will have some significance to my writing. As we moved on through the book, I learned about one person in particular named JT Tumilson. He was a Navy Seal in Marcus’s division. He told us that JT was like a brother to him. JT had a brown lab dog that he loved. When JT would go off to deployment, Hawkeye, the dog, would stay with one of the Seals back home. JT and Hawkeye were inseparable when he was home.

Well, Marcus separated from the Navy as a result of injuries he had suffered over time. But shortly after that, Marcus got word that JT had been involved in a firefight while their helicopter was landing on a mountain in Afghanistan. He was one of 30 people on that helo that passed away that day when the helo crashed into that mountain from enemy rocket propelled grenades. As is the custom when a Navy Seal is killed or dies, the entire teams who are back home travel and attend the services. Hawkeye was now with one of the other Navy Seals, one of JT’s best friends who had promised to keep Hawkeye if anything ever happened to JT. Hawkeye attended JT’s funeral that day and was on a leash. The book tells us that as the service was taking place with the casket in the middle of the room at the church, Scott let go of Hawkeye’s leash, and the dog wandered over to the casket and laid down next to it. He laid there for the entire service, never moving.

The local TV station, who was there covering the service caught the entire thing on tape. They could not believe what they had seen. How would a dog know that was his master? Why would he go up in front and just lay quietly next to the casket? The only answer I have is true love for their master. And yes, page 246 of the book had the photo of Hawkeye laying down next to JT. It was so moving to me that I just had to write about it. There has never been any doubt in my mind that a dog, is man’s best friend and they understand and unconditionally give you love each and every day.

And as TC and my family have often expressed, when we lost our precious “Toby”, they are a “Peace” of Heaven.

If you would like to see the video taken that day, here is the link:

http://www.theblaze.com/stories/heart-wrenching-image-dog-keeps-watch-over-fallen-seals-casket-during-funeral/

Listen, You Can Still Hear the Echoes of Days Gone By  #18

Most people who pass through the gates of the North Maine Woods do so for the fishing, hunting or just to get away and do some camping. But, I’ll bet they never think about the incredible history that has been such a large part of that region.

As I spend more and more time in the region, I have developed a much broader understanding of life during the logging days many, many years ago, and their trials and tribulations in getting their most prized crop, the timber they had cut, to market. It has driven me to want to know more about them and what they did. There are a few books out there that give you some background and the Maine Department of Conservation, who now oversees this area through the Bureau of Parks and Lands, has some very good information on the region and what took place during that time.

One such place that I have tried to obtain a broader knowledge of is “Churchill Depot or Churchill Dam” as it is now called. Sixty seven miles up the Pinkham and Pelletier & Pelletier Road from the six mile gate lies Churchill Dam. Today as you drive through, it is very quiet with a number of camping sites, as well as a staging area for canoe trips by outfitters. They are painstakingly trying to maintain the historic flavor of years past, at the same time allowing the public to enjoy its beauty. Today, a few of the old buildings remain, but many of them are just a memory only seen in old photos.

Churchill Depot began its existence around the early 1920’s when Edouard “king” Lacroix opened his logging operation and headquarters there. The business was called The Madawaska Company. His main goal was to find a way of getting his logs downstream to the different mills he had contracts with. As part of his brilliant engineering strategy and forethought, King constructed a dam on the outlet of Heron Lake so he could raise and control the waters behind the dam. These waters included Heron, Churchill and Eagle Lake. By doing so, he could also raise the water level in Round Pond. As a result, King was able to use the lakes with their raised water level to float the logs south to a tramway they had built and eventually down to the Great Northern Mill in Millinocket. King also used a rail system known as the “Eagle Lake and the West Branch Railroad. Today, many of the old trains and cars still remain at the tramway and many people visit them just as a means of developing an understanding of their work efforts.

In developing Churchill Depot, a large storehouse was built to store goods coming in before they were sent to the lumber camps via water. They also constructed a garage that housed and allowed maintenance of the Lombard log haulers they used in the logging operation.

In the early 30’s about twenty families lived at the depot. Among the workers there, were Camp Superintendents, paymasters, boat operators, and scalers. At the peak of the operation thousands of people came through and were processed at the depot annually. Due to the growth of that location, schools, houses, offices, gas tanks and other structures were built. Today, only a few of the existing structures remain including the old boarding house and another structure that houses a museum. There is also a ranger station and the waterways supervisor’s home and office.

The first wooden dam was constructed in the 1920’s. In 1967, it was reconstructed and in 1999 it was replaced by a concrete dam. That dam remains today. In speaking with the Ranger during my visit, he told me that each day, they open the gates of the dam at 5:30pm to reduce the back water, and to allow canoes sufficient water to work their way down stream. The gates are closed the following day at noon. They remain closed from that time until opened again at 5:30pm.  I am told that when opened, there is an enormous amount of water that travels downstream. Most of my party there that day was taking advantage of the water by putting on their waders and fishing just below the red stakes of the dam. The ranger made sure to determine where we were going to be as he said the release of water at 5:30 could very easily take you downstream in a second. We told him that we would prefer not to go downstream without a boat and paddle and would be off the water long before the gates opened.

I would like to thank the Maine Dept. of Conservation and the Bureau of Parks and Lands for keeping this historic place so pristine. As you drive in, you cannot help but think back to the early years and think about how it must have been living there. It was once a desolate wooded area of Maine that turned into a small town as a means to create work and opportunity for many. You can still almost hear them as you pass through.

Research and photo of older depot conducted with help from the Maine Department of Conservation website listed below.

Train photos courtesy of Terri Hallowell

www.maine.gov/doc/parks/history/allagash/chdepot.htm

FROM THE INBOX:

I am told that people are spotting a lot of partridge and their chicks this summer. I would concur, as we are seeing them every time we are in the North Maine Woods. It also appears that there have already been a couple of hatches because we are seeing chicks that vary in size from larger to much smaller. While TC and I were fishing with our friends Jason and Sherry this past Saturday, we were on our way up the trail from the canoes to the truck when we ran into two different families of birds with their chicks. As we passed, Sherry stayed behind to watch the mother. She yelled to us that the mother had just come to within 10-15 feet of her and was hissing at her. When we walked down to see, the mother retreated back to the safety of the woods. Also, while fishing, we had a visitor. Here are a few photos of it.