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             

               

I Need More Space, Therefore I Must Buy  #16

Most every morning, I start out with a hot cup of coffee and the WLBZ channel 2 morning news.  There is one more ritual that has become as much a part of my morning as the coffee and TV. That is the North Woods Sporting Journal. I became a subscriber about three years ago when I first saw a copy of it at the six mile checkpoint. I looked it over and immediately decided that it was a publication that warranted more review. Since that time, it has arrived in my mailbox each month. The stories come from folks in Maine and other states and in reading them, it is clear that they too are passionate about the outdoors.

The most recent months issue had a lot of good articles, but one really caught my eye, and as I read it made me chuckle. It reminded me of home and the number or items I have amassed over the years. The Old Vest, written by V Paul Reynolds also made me think about the subject of this week’s blog, my fishing vest, old and new.

About three years ago, I decided that it was time to purchase a new fly fishing vest. The one I had was quite old, but although it served the purpose, it just didn’t have enough space in it for my things. I bought it at LL Bean many years ago and it had been my lifeline to the water. So, in search of a new vest I went. Having had good luck with the old one, I decided to go back to LL Bean for it. After looking at all the different options, I settled on the river driver vest. There were a multitude of factors that went into my decision, but the tie breaker was the fact that there were more pockets and more pockets translated into more space to put more stuff. Simply put, from the standpoint of the folks in the valley where I grew up, it was “MORE BETTER.”

Now, at the risk of opening a proverbial can of worms, I am not good at throwing out old, no longer needed things. Everything I own has some sentimental meaning to me. TC has tried for years to get me to throw out or donate what I don’t need. Regrettably, most of the time she does not seem to make much headway in her efforts. She read my blog, as she often does before I publish it and she was quick to remind me of something that happened a few years ago. As far as too many pockets are concerned, she reminded me about the time I went to a golf tournament with my cargo shorts. Cargo shorts are the best because they have lots of pockets.  That day, I signed in and got my raffle tickets for the free prizes that would be drawn at the end of the outing. I played my round and then ventured into the club house for the dinner, drawings and prizes. I don’t have a photographic memory but I did remember the number on my ticket. I looked for the ticket, but was unable to find it. I went through every single pocket in those pants, but could not find that ticket. Before they drew, they let us know that in order to claim your prize; you must come up and show your ticket. No problem I thought, I never win anything anyway so the fact that I could not find my ticket was no big deal. They went through the prizes and drew numbers and my number did not come up. Then came the big moment everyone had been waiting for. That was when they drew for the new 32” Vizio flat screen TV. Do you get the drift of where I am going here? They drew the winning ticket, and called off the number. Yup, it was my number. Not having the ticket, I froze and said nothing. They called it out again and then said they would have to pull out another number which they did. The holder of that ticket came up and claimed the TV. As fast as I had won, I lost. That was all because I could not find the ticket in my cargo pants with multiple pockets.  After the event was over, I went to the folks who had put the event on and told them what had happened, and all the way home I stewed over where that ticket had gone. Once I got home, I went through every pocket over and over and guess what I found? The ticket was in one of the smaller pockets within a pocket in my pants. TC has a favorite saying, “LESS IS MORE”, and it was true that day.

So, moving on, I ordered the vest, and as is their custom, I got it the next day. I put it to the side and made the decision to swap items to the new one over that weekend. As the weekend approached, it started to get a bit harder to part with the old one. I had had it for years and it had served me well. I had made a lot of memories with that old vest. Every time I put it on, it made new ones. Now, I had a new vest and new memories would have to be made. It kind of made me sad, but I came back to, it had more pockets….

Well, the weekend came and it was time to remove all of my gear from the old one and find a new home for it in the new vest. I went from pocket to pocket taking things out and laying them on my workbench. I was astounded at the things I was taking out of the vest. Things that I hadn’t seen in some time. I found things that I had been searching for for years. Things that I forgot I had and needed so I had gone out and bought them. Now that I had all of the pockets emptied out, it was time to bring on the new one and find a place for all of the items on the workbench. I carefully inspected the new vest and found pockets inside and outside. I methodically decided where things would go using the ANQFO method, Always Needed Quickly First Out. Those items went on the outside pockets with the less used items going on the inside pockets.  About an hour later, I was satisfied with everything and where it was placed, but I had one big issue. I had packed so much stuff into this new vest, even items that I now needed that were not in the old vest, that I didn’t have any room in the new vest. At that point, I stopped and thought about the reason I had gone out and replaced my old vest. It was because I had run out of room. Now with my new vest, I was already having the same problem and I had not used it yet!

Well, I’m happy to say that I have been using the new vest for some time now and have finally learned where all of the things in it are. I really like the new one a lot, but still have fond memories of the one I left behind. I learned one valuable lesson that day. If you think you have run out of room and need to expand or get a new one to add space, it probably won’t work out at the end of the day. Oh, and by the way, as I walk downstairs to my work bench, hanging on the coat rack just a short distance away is my old fishing vest. It serves to remind me of the good times I had, all the fish I caught while wearing it and of course the one that got away. Did you really think I could part with it?

FROM THE INBOX

This week’s email bag brings a note from a friend in Vermont who told me that he caught a 21” rainbow in a river there with a 6’6” 3 weight echo rod and reel. He says that when he put line on his reel, he did not add any backing feeling he would not need it. Come to find out, when landing that fish, it took him all the way to the reel. He finally landed it, took his photos and released it back to the river. Sounds like a lot of fun.

 I also heard from a reader who told me that he had not fly fished for 40 years but recalls the days when he was growing up and had a stocked pond behind his home. He was allowed to fish the pond only after his chores were done. That drove him to complete every chore assigned to him so he could make his way down to the pond and enjoy a few minutes casting and catching fish. He tells me he would really like to pick that rod up again someday. I hope you do as well.

I am always looking to hear from readers about their adventures, so send me an email. I can be reached at 42adjuster@gmail.com  Also, if you would like to be notified when I post another blog, email me at the same address and I will let you know.       

This week’s Web address:

North Woods Sporting Journal:      www.sportingjournal.com

               

Fishing Season is in Full Swing  #15

Since Memorial Day, and with one exception, TC and I have been in the North Maine Woods every Saturday. We have been visiting the same pond where our luck has been quite good. As a matter of fact, we have been using the same fly all the time, and have been having such great luck, that we have never found a need to change it. I found the pattern for this fly on the internet one day this winter and had made a few of them to try. I cannot believe how good it has been. So good, that I have tied several more over the past two weeks.

Each Saturday when we drive to this pond, the sun is out and the views on the roads in the North Maine Woods are spectacular. It never ceases to amaze me no matter how many times I drive over these roads, what I see for the first time. The sparkling clear brooks and majestic mountains that rise above the tree line are just a few of the things that stand out. Many of those mountains are tucked in by the ponds we fish and their reflections show like a mirror in the water. Simply put, it is breathtaking.

As we get to the pond, there is a small campsite with a parking area and a short canoe carry will get you to the water’s edge. As we have driven into the site the last two weeks, we have found a car in the lot and folks already on the pond fishing.  Yesterday was no different as we noticed a truck parked in the lot. Getting out of the vehicle, we could hear the people talking on the pond. We unloaded the canoe and started to take our gear down to the landing area. As I started to walk back to the truck for another load, I could hear another vehicle driving in. When I got back, a vehicle from New Hampshire came into the lot. In the vehicle were a man and women. They rolled the window down and asked if we minded them fishing on the pond as they could see that there was already one group there. TC and I both told them they were more than welcome to join us, which they did. I think they might have been from Bradford Camps, which is a really nice sporting camp not far from the pond, because they used one of Igor’s canoes that was tied up by the landing.

Over the past three visits to this pond, TC and I have done very well indeed. Now remember, TC has just started to learn how to fly fish. She really began late last year.  However, she has been catching the biggest fish each of the last three visits. She is really beginning to make it look easy. It’s great to watch her land the fish she catches, particularly the big ones she has caught. She really has come a long way in a very short time. Yesterday, she worked on throwing her line out farther and did a great job. She has learned to spot a rise and try to place her fly in the rise which ends up with her usually seeing some action.

As far as the New Hampshire folks, I had to feel for them because I watched the gentleman change his fly at least 10 times without catching a fish. It must have been pretty painful for him to watch us with the luck we had.

Early in the evening last night while we were on the pond, we heard a branch crack in the trees just a short distance from where we were. Shortly after hearing that, we saw a momma moose come to the edge of the pond and look out at us. She put her front hoofs in the water and looked back over her shoulder. That was a hint to both TC and I that there was more to come. All of a sudden, she walked into the water and behind her came a baby moose still light brown in color. Momma walked into the water feeding on plants under the water with the baby following her. It was amazing to see both of them and we remarked that we could not believe how long she could keep her head under water. All along the baby had her ears up and they were both keeping a watchful eye on us. After about 15 minutes or so, they had traveled almost horizontally across the pond and they both walked onto the shore and as fast as they came, were gone.  The worst part of the whole time was that I had not brought my camera with me on the pond. Generally, that is the case when these things happen. It reminds me of the time when I was fishing with my father in law and brother in law and we saw a mother moose teaching her two babies how to swim and I didn’t have my camera then either.

As we left the pond last night, I remarked to TC that it was probably time to move on to other ponds we have not yet visited this year. Plans are to try another old favorite next week. I just hope that we have the same luck there.

I leave you this week with a few photos we took yesterday. They show the beauty of our area, and really drive home the reason we spend so much time in the North Maine Woods.

FROM THE INBOX

I heard from a reader on the blog last week about the secret fisherman. The reader tells me that he employs the Hunt method when talking to others about his travels. That is, “you hunt for it.”

www.bradfordcamps.com          

The Mad Scientist v. the Secret Fly Tyer #14

In my last blog, I talked about one particular type of fisherman. There, of course, are many types, but the obvious opposite is the secret don’t tell anybody anything fisherman. This type shares absolutely nothing of value with anyone, and I mean nothing. They are extremely polished in avoiding particular questions, and are really good at changing the subject.  They will not tell you where they fish, what they caught, if anything, and what they used for a fly. They are often referred to as the “Secret Fisherman.”

                When I started to think about what I was going to write for this week’s blog, I had a vision of a “Mad Scientist.”  Remember them; they were the people who had a room in their basement full of test tubes and electronic gadgets. They were always alone and did not welcome visitors. They were always thinking and probing to develop the next best thing. They worked late into the night and often, they worked on rainy stormy nights with lots of lightning. They talked to themselves constantly, and often answered their own questions. When I thought about it, I immediately thought about a particular type of fisherman that resembled the mad scientist to a tee. If you drill down below the secret fisherman, you get….” THE SECRET FLY TYER.”

                Now, I know through experience that fly tyers are a very unique and particular breed.  They are always looking for the next best fly that will catch the biggest fish.  They spend nights, weekends and months on end in their basement or work shop surrounded by feathers, dubbing, yarn and thread. Generally, they tie alone in secret. If someone comes to visit, they quickly hide what they are tying. They tend to go to sporting goods stores and automatically go to the fly counter and then the book section. They think they are being sneaky as they pick up some of the different flies and check the patterns out. Some have photographic minds and can look at a fly and then go back to their workshops and not only try to tie it, but tie it better. After going to the fly counter they can be found in the book section looking over the fly tying books for patterns. They will occasionally buy one or two, but most generally, they will have brought a small pad of paper and a pen that can be secluded in their pockets. Once they find a fly they like, they copy the pattern on the paper and take it back to analyze.  ARE YOU SEEING A PATTERN HERE?

                The other way that the secret fisherman uses to get intel on what flies are working is called catch and imitate.  This method involves the art of fishing on a pond. Very few items are needed for this experiment. They bring a fly rod to cover their actions and a couple of small plastic bottles tucked away in their packs. If you watch them closely, they are fishing, but their minds are clearly not with the rod. They are scanning the water to see what is landing and what the fish are rising for. When they see a bug on the water that the fish seem to like, they pull out their little container, grab the bug and quickly put it in the container. They carefully put the container in their pack and cunningly look over their shoulder to see if you are looking. But they never say a word about what they have done. Once the fishing is over, they go back to their workshop and try to tie a fly that imitates the bug.

                The trick with these folks is to try to keep them engaged in conversation all the time keeping a keen eye on what they are doing and what they are using for flies. You can generally get a good idea when the fly whips by your ear. But the best time to look is when they are picking up that bug on the water to put it in their container. They are so tuned into that, that they drop their guard, all be it just for a minute.  If you are quick, you might just get a glimpse at the fly.

                Although not as secret as the secret fly tyer, I have to confess that I do engage in a couple of the actions that have been described today. I do go directly to the fly counter and then to the book section. And I do tend to keep a watchful eye on the water and what bugs are landing and being eaten by the fish. I will, however from time to time tell you what I have tied and what is working. And, yes, I do have a workshop in my basement where I tend to spend time at night designing and tying the next best fly. Judging from the last two fishing trips TC and I have taken, I might just have hit the jackpot. That is especially true for TC who has caught her limit on both occasions.

                I often get emails from folks telling me about their trips and travels and I really appreciate that. I am going to add a segment at the end of my blog entitled, From the Inbox where I will share some of the comments and photos that you have sent me. Mind you, I will not share any photos unless you have approved.

FROM THE INBOX       

This week, I heard from a couple of you who told me that you do know someone who resembles the fisherman in my last bog. I had to chuckle at a couple of the descriptions you gave me. I also got an email from someone who told me that they had been fishing with their son last weekend and they did really well. They sent me a photo of the fish they caught. As I understand it, Ben, who is in the photo had a great day on the water with his dad. Ben is just learning the ins and outs of fly fishing and his dad tells me that he would cast, give the pole to Ben and Ben would do the rest.  Judging from the photo, Ben, you are on your way to mastering the art. Good Job and nice fish!

Do you know this Guy? #13

You know, in my mind, there are two types of fishermen. Both have their own distinct traits, quirks and qualities. And both have very different mannerisms indeed. I figured it might be worthwhile to evaluate one of the types of fisherman, and then let you decide if you know anyone that fits this mold.

This person is very happy go lucky, always looking to further their knowledge on any one given subject. Over the hedge that conceals you, you have been watching the neighbor load their vehicle for a weekend excursion. You notice that they have several fishing rods and tackle they are bringing. Then out of the blue, the neighbor comes out of the house wearing a fishing cap with all sorts of small things attached to it. You’re not quite sure what they are but it reminds you of a movie you once watched. Henry Fonda was in it and he had the exact same hat. That’s it; On Golden Pond was the name of it. You think to yourself “how cool is that! You decide then and there that you want to be like your neighbor, so you go to the local sporting goods store and buy a fishing rod, reel, waders and all the fixings. And of course you see a hat like your neighbors and you buy that. You buy a bunch of pre tied flies to finish off the shopping and then head home.
Once you get home, you immediately start putting the flies in the hat. You pull up a picture of Henry on the internet and look to make sure that you have the flies in the same position as he did. You decide to try your hand at fishing the next day, so you call your friends and tell them what you have bought and where you are going. You tell them that you expect to catch the big one and will take a photo and email it to them.  You begin packing your vehicle making sure you have everything you need. First and foremost, you must have a camera to document your trip. This is very important in case someone questions you. Then you pack your gear, pole and other items and of course not to forget your lunch. You have made the decision to go to a stream that you cross every day on your way to work. You start to think about how you are going to attack the heavy deep fast running water, but you are not afraid. There is always danger when the rewards are great.  You also make sure to bring your life jacket so you don’t get into deep water and not have protection.

The morning comes and you set out for the stream. Once you arrive, you get your pole ready, put on your waders and tie on a fly. You put your Henry Fonda hat on and immediately look in the outside mirror of the vehicle to make sure you are looking good. You take out your camera and take a photo of yourself. Then you take out your cell phone and call you buddy to tell him that you have arrived and in the event something happens to you in the deep water, he will know where to find you.  Once you start to walk down to the water’s edge, you find that you are having a very hard time walking with the waders. You seem to feel every rock, stick or other protrusion on your feet.  Then you notice that there are no shoes attached to the waders, just the neoprene feet. Quick thinking keeps you in the game, so you take out the shoes you wore there and put them on. Now that feels better. You finally get to the water’s edge and are standing next to that fast rushing deep water. You take a gulp and put one foot after another until you are in. Once in, you don’t find the depth to be too bad, in fact it is only 6” deep. Still you think, the current is so strong, I had better keep my whit’s about me or I could be swept away. You pull out your camera and take a picture of yourself in the water so they will see that you can master anything. Then you pull out the cell phone and call your buddy to let him know you have made it to the water and will call him when you catch the “Big One”. You begin to fish and all along you are thinking about “if they could only see me now.” There is nothing to this thing they call fishing. You cast your fly out and you immediately get a hit. You pull hard and it feels like a whopper. You are not sure if you have enough stamina to land this beast.  It pulls your line down the current and then you pull and reel hard to get it back. You do this for what feels like an eternity almost to the point where you are not sure you will have enough arm strength to pull it all the way in. You think it’s either him or me. Who will blink first? Ten minutes later, exhausted from the fight, you pull the fish in close to where you can see it. What a monster, it must weigh 5 lbs. You immediately think about how you can enter it into the Guinness world record book as it must be the biggest fish ever caught. You reach for the net to retrieve the beast and then remember that you forgot to buy one. You’re on your own at that moment, how are you going to get him in? You eventually land it next to you in the water and decide to take a photo of it. You snap one and call your buddy to tell him that you just caught a big fish and he should come over for dinner. There will be plenty. You hang up and pull the fish out of the water. You pull out the measure you bought and take a measurement. Congratulations, you have caught a whopping 6” fish. Not quite the fish you thought it was or told your buddy about. How are the whole family and your buddy going to eat from that? All of a sudden, your feet start to slip out from under you and down you go into the 6” of water. Your whole body is down and under. You come up and out of the water like Rambo, only to find that the fish has gotten away and you can see it swimming down the current. You pull out your camera that has all the photos to document your expedition, and the water rushes out of it like a dam that just burst. Dejected and wet, you pull out your cell phone to call you wife to tell her you are ok, but almost drowned and as you pull that out, it reminds you of the time you fell in the pool with the phone in your pocket. You stop and think for a minute about what has gone on and what you told your buddy and a light comes on in your head.
So, you drive home, pick up the phone and call your friend. You tell him about the deep swift water that you have encountered all day. You tell him about the big fish that you caught. It was so big that it pulled you into the water, biting off your hook and swimming away only to leave you in the cold deep water to fend for yourself. And in doing so, you lost all of the memorable photos that you took that you wished you could show him. Then you think to yourself, I can’t wait to get to work and tell my co-workers. They will never believe me….

Is it too late?  #12

This past week, the Governor signed two bills that were passed by the 125^th Maine legislature. The bills are L.D. 372 and L.D. 1242. Both make an effort to help with deer predation. L.D. 372 sets aside money from the general fund to help control predators harmful to deer on public and private land. L.D. 1242 does two things. It provides that there be a check off box when getting your hunting license that allows you to donate money to help fund for predator control and deer habitat enhancement. It also requires that $2.00 of each deer registration fee be credited to the Maine Deer Management Fund.

L.D. 372 although a step forward does not necessarily remedy the problem. Predators come in a number of different forms. They include, but are not limited to coyotes and the loss of winter yards.

Now, I am by far no expert on deer and the many challenges that face them. Much of what I will say is gathered from talking with people with far more information and understanding than I. In terms of predators, nothing shows the need to control coyotes any more than just being in the woods during hunting season and seeing all of the tracks. Not deer track, but coyote tracks. Generally where you find any deer tracks, you also find coyote tracks. Two years ago, I was hunting in the Rangeley area and was walking in on an old abandoned grown up road when I heard a crack behind me. I turned quickly in time to see a big coyote behind me. As it saw me turn, it jumped off to the left and in the woods out of sight. Last year while hunting in the Ashland area, I came upon a nice bunch of deer. I hunted them for a couple of days, seeing only doe’s. When I returned the following week, all the deer had moved out toward the swamps.  But, it had just snowed a bit and I could clearly see a number of different coyote tracks walking down the dirt road following where the deer were going. Although, I have spoken with several people that spend a lot of their time in the North Maine Woods that are not convinced that coyotes are the big problem that we think they are, I am not convinced.

Yards or lack thereof continues to be a problem. When there is no place to yard for the winter, the deer will move to other areas that offer better cover.  Landowners are exercising their right to cut their land and I understand that. I am just wondering if there is a happy medium that will allow certain areas to remain available for deer to yard up in during the winter.

The last issue is weather. We had two years where the amount of snow was detrimental to our deer population.  The inability to move around and feed caused a lot of animals to perish. However, I had an old wise man tell me that he finds this hard to believe. He cites the fact that in earlier years when the deer were more plentiful, they had winters that either rivaled or surpassed the ones we had and the deer seemed to handle it well.

I was talking with a warden this past winter who told me this story. He lived not far from a big deer yard and the deer had all gone into the yard for the winter. He decided to take a trip into the yard to see how they were faring. As he got there, he saw a number of deer lying dead on the snow. Clearly he could tell that they had been killed by coyotes. He contacted a well know trapper in the area and asked him if he would put out some snares to catch the coyotes. (This was back when snares were used) The trapper eventually decided to do so and set a snare in the yard. Several days later, the trapper caught a huge coyote and after that, the warden did not find any dead deer for the rest of the year.  It begs the question, had he not taken this action, how many deer would have died at the hands of this one coyote?

Clearly, having hunted for a number of years I am noticing that the deer population is down significantly in Northern Maine. I believe it is time to undertake measures that will ensure that we have a healthy deer herd for years to come.  Recently I heard that the white tail deer is not native to this area and was not supposed to survive this long. To that I say, deer are survivors if they have the right odds. Whatever we can do to help them survive should be done and done QUICKLY.

I had a reader send me some great photos that were taken in the Limestone area this past week. They are priceless. Hope you enjoy them.

I also wanted to say that I did find my way to two separate ponds over the weekend and caught some nice trout. That will be for another blog, but on my way into the North Maine Woods, I could not help but think about something that we need to keep in mind all of the time. On Friday, I had put my American flag out in front of my home as I do each year to show my support for Memorial Day weekend. But, as I was entering the North Maine Woods, I reflected upon the reason that I could and why we have so much freedom in this country. It is because of all of our veterans and their families and all the sacrifices they have made to ensure that we can all do the things we want to do with little restriction. To all the veterans and their families, I say thank you very much.  I for one will never forget what you have done for this country and for me.

I also had a reader email me and say that they have been out to their favorite pond fishing and did not catch a single fish. Thanks for telling me. It makes me feel much better about the lack of tugs on my line.

If you would like to contact or send me photos of your adventures, you can reach me at 42adjuster@gmail.com

We Finally Made It  #11

My wife, who I will call TC from here on out and I decided last week that we were going to set aside Saturday as our first fishing day in the North Maine Woods for 2012. When Friday came, we were busy getting all our gear ready and loaded our canoe on the truck. I had decided to go into a pond that I had fished once before. My best bet was to bring my 16’9” Old Town canoe with me in case I wanted to do some trolling. I also packed my Min Kota electric motor and battery for the trip. All I needed now was for Saturday to come.

I rose fairly early on Saturday morning. Not because I had planned to leave early, but because I just couldn’t sleep. I was all wound up thinking about our trip and what fun we were going to have. My plan was to leave around noon time which would put us on the pond at about 2pm. From there, we would fish until dark.  At noon, we got into the truck and headed off to Ashland. As we got to the dirt road leading into the North Maine Woods, I could feel a sense of calm. I was ready for this day and regardless of whether I caught any fish or not, I was looking forward to it.

As we got to the six mile gate, I could see that it was open for the year. See, the last time I came through that gate in 2011 was during hunting season and they had closed it up for the winter. As I got to the driveway, I saw a familiar face standing on the porch. It was Ed the gate keeper. Interestingly enough, the last time I passed through the gate in 2011 when it was open, Ed was tending it as well. Now, Ed and I have something in common. We both have the same kind of truck, a Toyota, and it is the same color, silver. Ed is always making remarks about my truck, and this day was no different. As I entered the gate house, Ed let me know that I had a real nice truck. I told him that I was glad to see him too and glad to be there. We talked a while and I bought my season passes for TC and I. Ed told me that there were quite a few people in the woods, many of them attending a memorial service for Jim Carter who owned Munsungon Hunting & Fishing Club. Jim had passed away from Cancer over the winter, but had been a legend in these parts for his years in the woods. The memorial service was being held at his sporting camps that day. Eventually, Ed and I said our goodbyes and off we went down the Pinkham Rd. We left the Pinkham Rd just after crossing the Machias River Bridge taking a right onto the Jack Mountain Rd. From there, it was a short distance to a road on the right that would take us to the pond we were fishing. We made that turn and started down the dirt road. About 2 miles in, TC spotted something just off the road on the left side. It was dark and she said that it was too small to be a deer or moose. As we got closer to where she had seen it, we stopped and got out of the truck. As we both got to that side of the road, we spotted a young black bear leaping over a tree in a small clear cut. It appeared that it was probably a 2nd year bear, but it could still move fast. We lost sight of it as it went into the trees. We ventured on and about a mile from the bear, we saw a moose just off the road on a grown up old road. We watched it a minute until it turned and walked away. It looked horrible with different colored fur. See at this time of year, the moose are losing and replacing their fur. It had some light and dark spots. Truth be known, my remarks about looking horrible was probably the same thing he was saying as he was looking at us. On we went until we reached the pond. It was beautiful, but I noticed that the wind was really blowing and the lake was anything but calm. I made up my mind that I had driven all the way here and I was going to fish that pond, wind or not.  TC and I unloaded the boat and took it down to the water’s edge. We put the motor on and loaded it with our gear. We put our life jackets on and were about to get in when we heard a truck coming. When I first saw the truck, I knew it was a Maine Game Warden. When he saw us, he stopped, got out and came down to where we were. He was nice young man, very polite indeed. He checked our licenses and then checked our boat for the proper registration. We then got into a conversation and I told him that my father had been a warden for over 36 years. He told us he had been on for 6 years and really enjoyed his job. That led to more conversation until we heard another truck coming. The warden bid us good bye, got into his truck and off he went.

It was time to attack the pond. TC and I got into the canoe and shoved off. We decided to troll due to the wind. It was really easy going down the pond with the wind, but not so easy coming back. We went up and down until about 6:30 and only got one bite. At that point, the wind had not let up so we decided to pull out and head home. We got the gear put away and the boat loaded and tied down. We were just about to leave and guess what happened? The wind died down, the pond turned to glass and the fish started jumping. TC asked if I wanted to take the boat off and go back out, but we agreed to head home. We got half way out on the pond road and came to a beaver dam that had not yet spilled over into the road. As we got to the dam, we heard a loud splat. Yup, the beaver heard us coming and let us know he was nun to happy with us being there. We shut the truck off and sat there in silence for about a minute when we saw a head pop out of the water. The beaver swam around and around the pond just a short distance from us. We took some photos of it as it got its exercise. After about 10 minutes, we decided to leave and I started the truck up. Just as I did, that beaver again let us know that he did not like our noise invading his space and he slapped his tail on the water and dove under.

We drove out until we got to the Jack Mountain Rd and then onto the Pinkham Rd. Before we got to the six mile gate, we had seen 6 moose.  Back at the gate, Ed was still on duty. As we got to the gate, he came out and met us on the porch. He took our pass and talked with us a minute. We told him we would see him again soon and drove home.

Although we had not caught any fish, we had seen 7 moose and 1 bear. We got our season pass for the North Maine Woods and got to catch up with Ed. We are already making plans for next weekend.

Each time I visit a pond, I will give you the coordinates to it. If you think you know where I went, add a comment to my blog. This week’s adventure took me to:

46degrees 36”07.65N

68degrees 47’19.49W

Elevation- 1098 FT

Good Luck.

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