Leo Sideras, a sophomore at Ohio University, created an audio synopsis of my book, Where Cool Waters Flow, by using the college recording studio, hiring student actors to perform various voiceover rolls, and selecting sound effects and background music. Here is his 12-minute presentation (for which he received an A!)
Many guides, when a single day off comes along, go fishing. This chronicles my day off last week, the first in several weeks… From heading out, to an eagle escort, to the first fish of the day, to a botched attempt to take a pic of a friend’s camp, to the final fish. It was a day I’m still enjoying.
Mike Fastoso had been coming to Grand Lake Stream for many years with his friends, “The Stalwarts.” They have their own chapter in, “Where Cool Waters Flow: Four Seasons with a Master Maine Guide.” They receive further mention in a new book I’ve written, at the publisher’s now. Mike always sat amidships, right in front of me, close and personal. We laughed and raked through the coals of the previous year together, occasionally interrupted by a salmon reporting from his rod tip. Mike arrived this May wearing a device that mainlined medicine to his lungs for his pulmonary hypertension. He was somewhat weakened, but we found a hand-carved cane among the relics of my guiding and outfitting camp which helped prop him up to negotiate the uneven terrain. On one of his final days, he hooked up with this fine salmon which he was happy to hold high for a photo. The news came within a couple weeks of his departure: Mike had succumbed in a Boston hospital. My consolation is that I know something for sure that others may not know. At the end of his life, Mike found a peace and a truth and a meaning that was going to be enough to tide him over. I’m carrying that meaning with me now, and I wish the same to all his friends and loved ones.
Photos by F. Carl Mahoney of Rockport, ME
This is Mitch Kotok from Senoma, CA. He is the son of David Kotok, my longtime friend and fishing companion, known to the rest of the world as a highly sought-after financial expert and seasoned economist. All that falls away and gets re-prioritized when we take to the water every June, August, and September. I asked Mitch if he would be so kind as to field test a fly I tied at 5:30 a.m. the morning of Mitch’s last day of fishing in Grand Lake Stream. He agreed, and the result is pictured here. I first tied the fly for Peter Moulton, son of Henry Moulton, 86, of Cambridge, MA. Henry’s father first came to GLS in 1913. Henry’s nickname, “Gumpy,” is the name I’ve decided on for this fly owed to Peter’s success with it, further validated by Mitch’s success. It is a Chernobyl Ant variant, with yellow marabou tail, and peacock under-body. Both Mitch and Peter are accomplished fly casters, and so I chose them to debut this fly on the storied waters surrounding Grand Lake Stream. 
Tom and Charlie McCandlish have had a fishing tradition in Grand Lake Stream since their Dad first brought them here as pre-teens. They decided to rekindle it 7 years ago. In this photo, taken on June 7th, Charlie hoists a hefty 18″ smallmouth for a photo as Tom tries to look happy for him. The situation reversed soon after, when Tom landed a 19-incher! We also salmon fished on the river, where we found ample action on tiny Caddis nymphs and elk hair dry flies.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ic17RTttquo&feature=youtu.be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xndP59GYXRk&feature=youtu.be
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3lBKk6-cj4&feature=youtu.be
These reels, which I viewed on youtube, were filmed in 1929. They are centered on the outdoor activities of the Dennison family on Sysladobsis Lake, including guided hunts, canoe trips, fish and game, and much more. You’ll see footage of canoes being towed by one of the early steamers, shots of Grand Lake Stream near the dam, the train station at Princeton, as well as many of our now-deceased guides who were young men at the time. Note the period dress, the cookware (so similar to guiding cookware now), the early outboard motors, the methods of transporting game out of the woods, and other details too numerous to mention. I find these films so fascinating as to be mesmerizing.
Traveling south from Fort Kent on my return from the Author’s Conference, I stopped in Caribou, Presque Isle, and Houlton, Maine. On Routes 161 and then 1, expansive vistas open one after the other as though on a reel of film. It had been years since I’d been back to this part of Maine, but instantly, the phenomenon of “farmed mountains” impressed me all over again. The countryside is remarkably similar to farm country I’ve seen in Scotland, Ireland, France, and Nova Scotia. Rolling hills of cultivated land, framed by forest. In “The County” as Aroostook County is known, potato is king, followed by broccoli, canola, and various grains, and I was enthralled to see so many working draft horses. There are also solid, industriousness enclaves of Almish communities in Aroostook, and several times, I was greeted by someone waving from a horse-drawn “gig” trotting along the road.
The larger towns of The County look anything but bereft or downcast. They appear vibrant, well-kept, even prosperous. All have bustling downtowns with businesses of almost every description–in Fort Kent, I found an Italian Bistro. The land mass of Aroostook is greater than that of Connecticut and Rhode Island–combined! That’s one county larger than two states.
I had lunch at the landmark Elm Street Diner in Houlton, then scouted the center of town. It is an incredibly attractive hub of historic buildings and businesses where city planners have given admirable forethought to parking. Always keen for bookstore sightings, I immediately noticed York Books. There was easy, free parking within 50 yards of the store.
Along one wall and also on turnstile displays, I found titles like Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, and Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson. York Books featured the classics! Farther along the wall, I came to the Maine section and was very pleased to locate my own book among many others. It was my chance to meet Lynn York, owner of York Books for 44 years. When I offered to sign the copies he had, our conversation opened almost as many vistas as I had seen on my way south.
As a sort of sideline hobby, Lynn York has been bringing celebrity entertainers to Houlton for many years. He showed me a photo album that included performing shots of Kris Kristofferson, Billy Swan, Charlie Daniels, and many others. Lynn also has designed and commissioned fair and festival rides which have been featured at the August events in which he has been so instrumental. As if that weren’t enough to take up all his time, this Renaissance man collects calliopes, vintage organ grinding machines, and other esoteric music makers. Watch him working his Original Raffin Oberlingen in this video.
York.
I returned yesterday from Fort Kent, Maine, which is almost as far north as you can go and still be in Maine. Estcourt Station is actually the farthest. The reason for my trip and my stay in Fort Kent was an Author’s Conference. It would be difficult to adequately express how meaningful this event was to me, and how impressed I was, not only with the conference, but with Fort Kent itself.
The event was staged by a teacher at Fort Kent Elementary/Valley River Middle School, a teacher who won the awe and adulation of all the authors present. We had a romance novelist whose works are translated in 22 languages, a writer of young adult fiction, a humorist, an author of occupational therapy text books, and me–in other words, a wide diversity. Kara Beal was somehow able to coax authors to travel great distances to be part of the conference, the purpose of which was to inspire young writers.
Authors were divided into separate classrooms where each held two sessions. Students ranging in age from 12-18 were invited to sign up. They were not required to be there. When I walked into the first session, I’m sure my mouth fell open. The huge classroom–more the size of a small amphitheater–was filled. Row up row of students who didn’t have to be there, but wanted to be.
In Fort Kent, there is an extraordinary “academic row” close to the the heart of town. It begins with Fort Kent Elementary/Valley River Middle School. Next door, only a short walk away, is the high school. Next to that is the University of Maine at Fort Kent. Instead of separating schools and age groups as is so commonly done elsewhere, students of all ages are in close proximity to one other. They are not only physically close, but some academic events, like the Author’s Conference, are shared events.
For younger students who constantly get to see those who have gone before them, students who are now at higher grade levels, it may have the effect of smoothing the transition when their time comes. Fears are diffused. High school is not some distant reality surrounded by mystique and apprehension. And, in turn, neither is college.
There’s something going on in Fort Kent, Maine, and I know that all of the authors noticed it. The throng of students who attended the conference were interested, inquisitive, alert and responsive. There was a long and productive Q & A following the program, and then some kids lingered afterward for small talk.
Though it may exist invisibly, I saw none of the lethargy, none of the inertia, none of the slumped, bored, disconnectedness which is so often written about and discussed in other places. I saw its opposite. And next, is something America needs to pay attention to: Some of the authors, at the close of the conference, remarked to each other that childhood obesity, that epidemic so rampant across the country, was virtually nonexistent in Fort Kent, Maine. I, for one, saw none, and that was the first time in a very long time.
So…a town and a school system at the very top of New England captured the interest and attention of all the authors in attendance. The teacher with the vision, energy, and determination to have made this idea a reality is Kara Beal, hero of the 1st Annual Fort Kent Author’s Conference.
When I’ve told longtime fishing clients and friends that I’ve lately taken up the passion of fly tying, some have said, “What took you so long?” Well, I figure new passions are good at any age, so I saved some up. Now, I try to spend an hour or two every day at this new ‘vise’ of mine. I have just one requirement: every time I attempt a new pattern, I must learn something new. Last Thursday night, I spent a frustrating while trying to spin deer hair. With tips and tricks from my brother and others, I finally got it by Friday night. I have to say, the feeling of seeing it happen correctly was remarkably similar to the feeling of hooking a nice fish.
The fly pictured here has no name, but needs one. It is my version of a pattern tied by a teenager in Nova Scotia, where I fish for Atlantic Salmon in October. I had it on when I caught a twenty-plus pounder last fall. Welcome all ideas for a name!
In other news, a highlight of spring so far was speaking to the Concord, NH chapter of Trout Unlimited at the Concord Courtyard Marriot. Big thanks to Richard Kingston, and to guiding colleague, Angus Boezman. Also to Maurice Beliveau, author of “The ABCs of Fly Tying” 85 pages, $9.95 Stackpole Books (2002). It has helped enormously because of his incredible artwork and instruction.
I’m off to Fort Kent, ME next week to speak at the Author’s Conference there, a wonderful idea that puts various authors together in order to inspire high school-age students to explore their own flare for writing.
Happy Easter everyone!