Fishing has a large relationship building component    #17    

One of the things I have learned over the years is that it is very important to continually foster relationships. It is even more important to stay in touch with people you only occasionally see.  So, when a couple of my friends began talking about a 3 day fishing trip to the North Maine Woods, I immediately began to frame it as a relationship building trip that I have to go to, if nothing else just to foster those relationships.  I would slave through the fishing part for the good of relationship building.  Well, that was only part true. The relationships were a big part of the trip, but wild horses could not keep me from a three day fishing trip to the North Maine Woods.

The cast of characters was as diverse as the food we brought. There was Matt who had flown in from Minnesota, Jon from South Portland, Roger from Bangor, Mark and Scott from Fort Fairfield and Doug and I from Presque Isle, and who could forget Molly the black Lab, Scotts trusty and friendly dog. Plans began months ago and emails had floated back and forth on food menus, what we bring for rods, flies and clothing. One of the drawbacks to blogging about your fly selection is that these guys have been reading my blogs and knew that I had had good luck with a particular fly. The emails going back and forth all reminded me to bring them with me as sharing was extremely important.

Two of the members of our group owned a camp in the North Maine Woods, and that would serve as our staging area for the time there.  It wasn’t your run of the mill woods camp mind you; it had all of the amenities of home including hot water and showers to mention a few.

Thursday came and I was keeping tabs on the whereabouts of the folks coming from a far. We had decided that we would meet at my home and take two trucks in. Mark had already gone in that morning. See, for the past two years, he has been having a running battle with a web foot flat tail family that loves to dam up the water.  The problem is that the dam tends to include the road we get to the camp on. Now, I’m not talking a little water, this is up to your bumper water for about 250 yards of the road. The plan was for Mark to go in and break the dam out releasing the water. The problem was that it only made those critters more ambitious. When we got up on Friday morning, the water was already across the road again.

We left town and headed to the woods, Jon and Matt with me and Doug with Roger. We stopped in Ashland just long enough to pick up a sandwich and then made our way to the camp. We passed through the gate and headed down the Pinkham Road. The plan was to stop at the camp, unload and then find a pond close by.  When we got to the camp, we completed the drop and then made our way to a little pond a short distance away. Once there, we unloaded the boats, and kayaks and drug them down to the ponds edge. The water was calm and you could see a few rises. We paired up with the exception of the kayakers and fished for about 2 hours. The trout were happy to cooperate which resulted in many of us catching a few and then throwing them back in for next time.

We rose Friday morning, cooked breakfast, and laid out the plan for the day. We would drive over and fish a pond TC and I have been frequenting this year.  Once there, Matt jumped in the canoe with me and off we went. The fishing was as incredible as the day itself. We eventually decided that it was time to try somewhere else so we loaded up the boats and packed up our gear. Now, to get to this pond, you have to drive up a long road and then take a left and up that road to the campsite. While we were standing in the campsite yard, I looked down the road and noticed that a warden was walking toward us. He came over, greeted us and asked how we had done. I noticed on his shirt that his last name was Buuck.  He was a nice young man who told us that he had been a warden for two years. He checked our fish and gave us some pointers on which ponds were hot and which ones were not. Eventually, he bid us goodbye and as quickly as he had come down the road, walked back and was gone. I thought how good it was to see wardens patrolling that area again after not having seen them in there for many years.  As we drove out and came to the tee in the road, I looked to my left and there was Warden Buuck walking away from us with a large set of binoculars in his hand. It was clear that he had been watching us from some vantage point and when he saw us coming off the water had walked down to check us.

We left this pond and headed down the Pell and Pell road to our next conquest, the Curriers. We drove in, unloaded and made the short trip through the woods into the pond. This was my first trip to the pond and I was amazed at its beauty. The pond had an island in the middle and we were told that the best fishing was around there. Roger joined me this time and we made our way out to that location. Mark and Doug loaded up their canoe and headed out. Shortly after, Roger and I noticed that Jon and Matt were nowhere to be found. We circled back and there on shore was Jon sitting in the bow of the canoe with his legs hanging over and Matt sitting on shore working feverishly on his reel. It seems that he had some equipment failure that was causing him enormous heartburn. We also learned that the canoe they were using only had a seat in the stern so Jon was sitting on a log in the bow. Well the maiden voyage of the USS Jon/Matt never made it onto water as a storm was brewing and the winds were coming up. We decided to come off the water, pack up and head for the camp.  Once we got to the camp, we made supper and sat and watched the Red Sox. Yes, we have TV. We planned our Saturday and then hit the sack. Scott had joined us at the camp along with Molly.

Now, I know it is hard to believe but when you assemble a group like this, there has to be at least one in the crowd that has nasal problems that result in large noises during periods of sleep. Yes, I mean snoring, and we had ours. This guy had the capabilities of pushing the roof right off the camp. The bad part about it was that he wore an iPod to bed at night and kept the music going so he could sleep. During the night, Jon got up went over to him and woke him up. He came to, took the ear buds out and listened while he was told he was snoring. He politely said ok, put his headphones back in and was off and running again before Jon got back to his bed. Oh, well, I guess that is all part of camp life, but not really germane to relationship building.

Saturday morning, we got up and once again headed down the Pell and Pell road. Our destination was Matthews Pond. Warden Buuck had told us that the fishing was really good there. We arrived, unloaded and walked into the pond. When we got there, the sun was shining and the pond was just like glass. I had brought my small fish finder, so once on the pond I found that the water in the center of the pond was twenty one feet deep. We fished it and I was the only one to catch a fish. Mind you, it was not a trout, but what looked like a golden chub. It had a golden body with red under fins. When I got back home and went to the Maine Fish and Wildlife website, I looked up the pond from their list and found that when they surveyed it, they found what they called golden shiners. Maybe that was what that fish was.

Once we got our trucks loaded, we decided to run down to Little Pillsbury Pond campsite and have lunch. If you have not been there, it is one of the best campsites in the woods, and the pond is great fishing as well. After having lunch, we altered our plan to drive up to Churchill Depot and do some fishing at the dam. I remember my dad speaking often about this area because it was in his district when he was stationed there years ago with the Warden Service.  If you have not been to Churchill Dam, you are missing a great deal of history. I was so captivated by its beauty and history that I have decided to write about it in my next blog. Well we spent a good part of the afternoon there with our waders on. See, just below the dam where the red stakes are is where you can begin fishing.  We had an enjoyable afternoon and as it came to a close, we decided to drive back down the Pell and Pell road to a pond that reportedly has some very nice big fish in it.

As we got to our next destination, Roger told us that on the way over, the radio had been announcing a storm coming at us from the Churchill Dam area. The skies were very dark and we could hear thunder off in the distance. We stood by the trucks for a while contemplating if we should wait it out or just walk in. Now, picture this, seven guys waiting at their trucks with all their gear out trying to decide if we should go fishing or not. What would you bet on if you could? Yup, the go now crowd won out and down the trail we went. This pond is a favorite of the area sporting camps. The planes fly in and out all day long bringing in sports and taking them out.  With the storm clouds brewing, it would be a safe bet that we would not see any planes in the area which we did not. We got on the pond, paddled out to the island where the best fishing is and I immediately caught a nice trout. It fought and fought all the way to the net. When we got it in the boat, it must have weighed at least a pound. Now, you can only catch one fish at this pond, so I decided to put this one back in anticipation that I would catch another that might be bigger.  It’s similar to the mentality of a hunter that has the whole week off and one Monday sees a nice deer but passes, only to not see another one again. Well, the clouds rolled in and the sky looked ominous. Roger was in my canoe and all of a sudden let me know that he had just seen a bolt of lightning. Let me tell you, had we have been competing for a spot on the Olympic rowing team that day, we would have won. We paddled that canoe as fast as we could and did not stop until we got to the landing. The other guys must have seen it as well, because they were right behind us. We packed up walked out to our trucks and headed to the camp. Each of us knew that this was our last pond and our last fishing episode because tomorrow we had to pack up and head home. You could almost feel the sadness in the group that a trip we had started planning some time ago was here and almost gone.

Sunday morning came and we all rose and started packing for the ride home. You could tell we were not really ready to call it quits. As we left the camp, we came to the beaver dam. Yup, they had been out the night before and had the water up over the road again. It reminded me of a saying, “If you build it, they will come.”  Except my saying goes like this, “If you break it, they will come….”

As we drove home, Matt, Jon and I all commented that we had such a good time, we should make this an annual trip. Matt piped up saying let’s get it on next year’s calendar right now. Somehow, I think we have started a new tradition.  Oh, yeah, all the fish I caught that trip was on that special fly I tie in that little room in my basement.

FROM THE INBOX

Dick Fortier asked me to remind those readers that need to take a hunters safety course, that the Presque Isle Fish and Game Club will be holding one during the week of September 10. Dick tells me that he already has 18 people signed up. To learn more, contact Dick at bearfortier@gmail.com         

On another note, The Maine Audubon in conjunction with the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife and trout unlimited is conducting a survey of the trout population on some ponds in Maine and are asking for anglers help. If you are interested in learning more, you can visit their website at www.maineaudubon.org  for a list of the ponds or by visiting the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife website at www. maine.gov/ifw/. You can also email Amanda Moeser at Maine Audubon:  amoeser@maineaudubon.org