Last Tuesday, we packed up the the dog, the sled, and the auger and went to Messalonskee Pond to check the ice. For February, there isn’t much: just over 12”.

 

We drilled several test holes. (Well, the Other Guide drilled, I took pictures.)

 

In the picture above, you can see that the bottom portion of ice is reflective. This is the solid part. The top 3 or 4 inches is porous: snow and frozen slush. This makes me think it would be quite foolhardy to take a truck or car onto the ice this year. But that’s just me: I’m all for erring on the side of extreme caution. I know there are those who love to tempt fate. I’ve seen snowmobile tracks on the river that skim right over open patches of water. I’ve been told that they can do this by going really fast. I guess the drivers are trusting that they will not have to let off the throttle for any reason before they are back on solid ice. Let me say this about those drivers (and I mean this in the kindest way): they are morons. Sorry for the digression.

The ice on the Pond is plenty solid for putting out ice shacks and running snow machines, and fishing. I like to see the variety of shacks that people have. They’re all shapes and sizes and colors. I think my favorite has to be the blue one flying the Jolly Roger.

 

This one’s pretty cool, too. You could get quite comfy in there, I imagine.

This one is understated in its architecture, but makes a bold statement with color.

 

Enjoy the fishing. Use your common sense. Don’t err on the side of recklessness and end up a moron under ice.

Sitting and Waiting

In my last episode, I wrote about bears sitting the woods. This time, I’m going to tell about just sitting in the woods. The Other Guide spends most of the fall hunting. This apparently involves mostly finding a good vantage point and Sitting. Over the years, he’s told many stories about watching the animals and them watching him, squirrels sitting on his head, birds perched on his feet, a fisher climbing up behind him while he was in his tree stand. This sounded pretty interesting to me. Since this winter is so weirdly mild and snow-free (so far), I’ve been somewhat at a loss for Things To Do. So the other day, we went out in the woods. We took camp chairs and sleeping bags – and the camera. We set up our “observation point” on a small knoll and settled in to watch the show…

I had been warned that this wasn’t an ideal time for seeing critters: we’d recently had freezing rain and the forest was dripping. I mean, the sun was out, but it was raining under the trees. It was also mid-morning in January and even if it did seem like fall, the Other Guide explained that the animals had done their winter preparations already and weren’t likely to be out and around. I still wanted to try. Soon after we settled in, I heard a blue jay. Then we heard some scurrying and saw a red squirrel checking us out from a distance. I figured I’d be covered in critters in no time. After what seemed like hours, I whispered to the O.G. that I guessed he was right and I was ready to pack it up. Feeling quite proud of my patience, I asked him how long had we Sat and Waited. Forty-five minutes. Seriously?

Despite my short attention span and the lack of head-sitting animals, I would do it again.
If we went in the fall or in the spring at daybreak or dusk, we would likely see much more activity. Then again, even without the animal show, it’s very nice Sitting and Waiting in the woods.

Taking some time for LL Bean

Thanks for checking out this blog. I will be taking some time off from posting while I help LLBean’s distribution department get through their upcoming “peak”. (Known by most civilians as The Holiday Season). They tell me they can’t do it without me…hmm, seems like hyperbole to me. If not, I’m asking for a raise.

Do Bears Sit in the Woods?

This week’s lesson is about bears: what to do, what not to do, and who cares if a bear sits in the woods – what? Oh, OK. The Other Guide says it’s not “sits”. Anyway, in Maine, we have black bears (which may or may not be black in color). There are no brown bears, unless it’s a brown black bear. Brown bears are otherwise known as grizzlies. Are you confused yet? Black bears come in cub size, adult size, and oh my god size. Oh my god size would be any bear over 500 pounds. Bears are heaviest in the fall, because they have gorged themselves all summer to get ready for hibernation. Your 500 pound monster bear was just a cute 300 pound teddy bear in early spring.

So what do you do if you meet a bear while you’re in the woods? First, it’s pretty rare to see a bear. They’re there, but they are extremely elusive. Bear paws have really soft pads and the hair that grows on the paws muffles the sound of a bear walking. Black bears have been called “black ghosts of the woods” because they move so silently. I can attest to this trait. One morning as a I started to head to the barn for chores, I saw an oh my god size bear standing about 75 feet from the house. We watched each other a bit (me from back inside the house, thank you very much). He stood up trying to figure out what the deal was with me. Then he dropped to all fours and loped back into the woods. He did not make a sound. Spooky, but beautiful.

If you do see a bear, you’ll be incredibly lucky (or incredibly un-lucky if you run screaming). Running is not recommended especially if you have a close encounter. Running triggers the chase instinct. If you’re close, say within 100 feet, you need to quickly check for cubs and carefully back away so Mama doesn’t see you as a threat to her kids. A bear who is making barking sounds, huffing, and popping its jaws is gettin’ agitated. Back away.

You must respect the bears, but don’t let fear of bears keep you from enjoying the woods. As I said, it’s rare to see a black bear in Maine. I’ve lived in this house in the woods for over 30 years and the one bear I saw was the only bear I’ve seen here. I know they populate these woods, but they do everything they can to avoid encounters with us. Just let sitting bears sit.

Disclaimer: I am not a bear expert: take my advice at your own risk.

Something’s Fishy Here

Fish names. They used to be way more interesting and mysterious to me when I was a kid. For instance, when I was about 4, my father took me fishing on the Sebasticook River behind my uncle’s place. This was my first memory of fishing and I think it stuck with me because I caught a really big pickle. It was long and skinny, greenish in color, and had a lot of teeth. My father said it was one of the biggest pickles he’d ever seen. It was the only pickle I’d ever seen with teeth, but in other ways it was sort of pickle-like.
So I was somewhat disappointed when I learned that it was actually called a pickerel.

On another fishing trip to the famous Upcountry, we were trolling on First Roach Pond, when my brother hooked a toad. Well, it didn’t look anything like a toad, so I asked what kind of a toad is that? Apparently, it was a lake toad. I just didn’t see why this trout-like creature was a toad instead of a fish. It seemed like a pretty good joke to me. I still refer to togue as lake toads because I just like it better and for some reason it conjures up an amusing image in my mind. On that same trip, my father caught a cuss. It was a kind of eel-ish fish, dark brown in color. If I’d known any cuss words then, I might have cussed, but as it turned out, it was a cusk. This fish has some humorous monikers for real: in the Great Lakes, they’re known as lawyer fish. And their scientific name is lota lota. I guess that’s actually a better name than cuss.

Surgeons. Swimming up-river from the sea. Breaking the surface of the water in long sinuous arcs. People told me that they could grow to a Really Large Size. They were very mysterious and sea monster scary to me. I never really saw a whole surgeon; just the arc, so I couldn’t get good image of them in my head, but my imagination filled in the details: 10 feet long, with scalpel sharp teeth (the reason they were called surgeons), and probably ravenously hungry all the time. So disappointing to find out they weren’t surgeons at all, but sturgeons.

I guess there are plenty of fish with names that you don’t even have to misunderstand to make them weird: Chubs, hornpout, muskies, charr, splake, crappies – just have fun with them. They probably have some weird names for us, too.

Day Trip

Day Trip

Here’s a good way to spend a fall day (if you live in Maine or New Hampshire. If not, it could be a way to spend any number of days just to get here.) Give the trees just a week, week and a half. Then drive towards Rangeley on Rt. 4. A few miles before Rangeley, you’ll see a sign for Smalls Falls picnic area. Pull in there. There is minimal walking to get to see some beautiful falls and pools. If you care to walk a little more, venture south from the main trail and very shortly you’ll see another set of falls in a small canyon. The way the water has sculpted the rocks there is picture worthy.

You could picnic at Smalls Falls or you could travel into Rangeley and have a bite at one of the local eateries. Then, take South Shore Drive (south of town) to Rt. 17. Driving south on Rt. 17, you’ll be treated to the finest kind of scenery. At Height of Land check out the view of Mooselookmeguntic Lake. (Seriously, I did not make up the name.) Take lots of pictures.

Tear yourself away from the natural eye-candy and keep going south on 17. About 9 miles further, there’s a turn on the right. Cross the bridge, and follow the Bemis Track (a dirt road passable by car) about 4 miles. There’s little turn out where you can park. The trail leaves the south side of the road. It’s marked with dark red blazes and it leads to Angel Falls, ninety feet of waterfall with a rock formation in the middle that resembles an angel’s wing. It’s a 15 to 20 minute walk one way. There are several stream crossings which can be tricky if the water is high, but that’s when the falls are most impressive.

You’ll be glad they invented digital cameras, so you’re not limited by the length of your film.

Me, Myself, & Irene

She came, she saw, and she turned out the lights. For three days. Oh, that Irene. They told us she would be trouble, and she proved them right. But she was some beautiful in spite of her bad side.

What do you do when you can’t play with your electrically powered toys? You get in your gasoline powered vehicle and drive to the coast where you see Irene’s spectacular aftermath. This posting belongs to Irene. Enjoy.