A New Chapter for Fish River Lodge

As we look back at 2010 it is with fond memories of families vacationing together, friendships renewed or forged, and some amazing adventures in the woods and on the waters of this beautiful place we call Fish River Lodge located on Eagle Lake, in “The Valley”. We also look back at a lot of hard, endless hours of work and the difficult times we’ve struggled through. We, like many of you, have had to make many sacrifices as our economy falters. It hasn’t been kind to the tourism industry and especially the sporting camp businesses in Maine. Wayne and I have cut every conceivable expense we could manage to remain competitive. Even then we haven’t been able to keep our business profitable. Finally, we came to the realization we might have to sell Fish River Lodge. We put it on the market last November and started to share this tough decision with our clients. We got through 2010, by the skin of our teeth. We kept our faith, we worked harder, hoped, and prayed when we had nothing else. “Gambaru” (a Japanese word for “never, ever, ever, ever quit”) was our morning mantra. Our loyal clients helped us keep the faith and we enjoyed one of our busiest years since we took over Fish River Lodge in May 2005. It was an omen to us that things would get better.

Finally, in December our prayers were answered. John and Mary Medina (Arundel, Maine) had been looking for a property on Eagle Lake. They found Fish River Lodge and fell in love; they decided to buy the property. We met with Mary and John on December 30. They offered us an opportunity that would keep our dream alive and keep Fish River Lodge open to the public, at least for a while longer. We will remain here through the winter, staying in cabin 7 until spring. Beginning in May we will lease the property from the Medina’s and continue running our business. They are the optimistic new owners of the property comprising Fish River Lodge and the authors of its next chapter. Wayne and I bought the property when no one else would give it a chance. We wrote our own chapter. Now John and Mary have become the next in line to nurture the property and write another chapter. We are so blessed and thankful for their generosity and we know many of you are too. We hope you will have a chance to meet them and thank them for keeping it open for another year. Wayne and I will run the business and retain the name “Fish River Lodge.”

We closed on the property January 14, Mary Medina’s birthday. They gave us a woodstove for cabin 7 and we will begin moving next week.

2010 ended on a bittersweet note. We were relieved the end of our chapter had been written, the stress and financial challenges were behind us; while we no longer “own” the property we have been graciously given the opportunity to remain its hosts. Now we can look forward to 2011 with renewed energy and enthusiasm to greet each of you again, to allow you to make new memories here, and for us to continue growing the friendships whose seeds were first sown here.

Wayne and I are happy that it all worked out the way it did. While we love running Fish River Lodge, we had become weary of the stress and financial difficulties we faced every day. We welcome John and Mary with sincere congratulations on their purchase of the property, we promise to make them proud when they see how much this place means to so many of you, and we are reminded that everything happens for a reason and that John and Mary rescued Fish River Lodge so another chapter can be written. Thank you all for 2010 – we wish you faith, hope, health, and happiness in 2011…

November Moose and Deer

Thank goodness for a November moose hunt in the northern zones. It boosted our monthly revenue and helped pad our bottom line. Although those of us “in the business” do this for the love of keeping our industry and tradition alive, we are running businesses and operating “in the black” is becoming increasingly difficult year after year.

Maine’s Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife divided moose permit holders in to three week-long seasons when they added a November week in addition to the traditional two week-long hunts in September and October. This was a blessing for us. November used to bring deer hunters to the north-country in search of big woods bucks weighing over 250 lbs and sporting giant racks scoring 150 points or better. Our hunters enjoyed tracking snow, large tracts of land with little competition from other hunters, and the tradition found only in a sporting camp. In recent years deer densities have plummeted due in large part to the loss of winter habitat combined with coyote predation and severe winters. Therefore, like many other sporting camps, we have lost most of November deer hunters. Just three years ago we hosted as many as 45 deer hunters, this year we look forward to the return of the Bombara family and friends – our most loyal deer hunters who have been hunting the St. John Valley for over 30 years.

But before I get ahead of myself, let me tell you, the November moose hunt was all we hoped it would be, and more! Since we had never hunted moose this late in the season we could only speculate what we’d find and how we’d hunt. After spending four months in the woods keeping notes on moose sightings, scouting trophy bulls, identifying cow and calf territory, and monitoring harvests of cows and bulls during the preceding hunts, Wayne and I developed our plan for November. We had four cow tags to fill and one bull tag. Mark Plummer (Binghamton, NY) selected Mike Michaud as his guide – Mike had successfully guided Mark several years ago out of Allagash. Mark’s parents, Bruce and Betsy (Farmington, ME) would share in Mark’s hunt. Wayne guided Jim and Karen Murphy of Rangeley, ME. I looked forward to meeting father/son team Eric and Everett Peterson of South Portland, ME. Joe Corson, his wife and son were committed to a self-guided hunt and we knew they would find success. They’d been up scouting in the past and Joe killed a moose earlier in the season – this was to be his wife’s hunt. The Rowell family of Sidney/Farmingdale, ME were on their own but being seasoned outdoorsmen we knew they’d fill their tag before week’s end.

Opening day was perfect – it was cold and a light snow had fallen. On the way in to our hunting grounds we saw moose tracks in the snow and the moose were on the move! We kept in radio contact with Wayne since we were hunting in the same area. Everett was the first to spot what he through was a moose down over the hill on the edge of a clear cut. I glassed the area and it took some consideration before agreeing that was the backside of a moose and not a stump! Eric got out of the truck, loaded his rifle, lined up on the young moose and once we confirmed it was in fact a cow, he fired. Another moose appeared and they both trotted away. We radioed Wayne and Company to let them know we’d shot then we went down to track. With four sets of eyes working we couldn’t find any blood. We found where the moose had stood, where they’d turned and run, and Eric and I followed their tracks in to the woods. Eric was disappointed but I reminded him “it was not meant to be” and a clean miss is almost as good as a clean kill. Everett has a heart condition and recovering that moose from down over the hill would have been a chore – we all agreed a better opportunity was ahead. By the time our scenario played out Jim Murphy had killed his cow. We drove over just in time to see them load their cow on the truck then we were back at it for the rest of the day. The Rowells tagged out but the rest of us would get to hunt another day. Tuesday morning we were all out of camp before sun-up. It was another crisp morning with a light breeze. We found our first cow early. It ran off before Eric could get his rifle loaded. The second cow, on the same branch road, spooked too, this time Eric had his gun loaded – we were getting closer! The third cow we found in a skidder trail. She was beautiful, a big, mature cow standing alone facing us. It would be a difficult shot but Eric took his time and patiently drew down on her. He fired, she ran, he fired twice more before she disappeared in to the woods. We decided to wait about 20 minutes before looking for her; I hoped she had fallen just inside the tree line. I gathered together my tracking pack and Eric and I set out to find her. We found a good blood trail immediately but soon I could see she had been gut-shot. I explained to Eric that it would be best to go back to the truck and let her be. That she would lay down, hopefully stiffen up, and bleed out. Back to the truck and another long wait…then back on the trail. We found where she’d laid but she’d gotten up and walked off. We tracked her down in to a beaver flowage and there she revealed herself and gave herself up. She came to rest across the flowage from us – it was such a beautiful sight, that cow standing at the edge of the water, her reflection and that of the fir trees behind her. The first shot across the flowage was lethal, the second was for insurance purposes. I was so thankful she gave herself up to Eric. Eric hasn’t hunted much and this hunt turned in to quite an adventure!

When we got to the moose we could see the flowage backed up to the edge of a clear cut. I took a compass bearing and decided to scout my way out since this moose would have to be quartered and carried. We returned to the truck to tell the others we had our work cut out for us. It was about a mile back to the flowage, in a relatively straight line or a mile and a half meandering along the ribbon track we’d marked. We would use the ATV to get down in to the clear cut but given the time of day (lunch time), we would be best served with helpers. We called Wayne and his party came to the rescue. In the mean time, Eric and I returned to the moose. The day was cool and crisp, we didn’t have to worry about flies or spoiled meat so we took our time and savored the moment, gutting and quartering the large animal that had fallen and tangled herself in the firs right at the edge of the water. It was a challenge working in those conditions but as they say – “you eat the elephant one bite at a time” and likewise, cut by cut we worked our way in and around the trees and moose until it was of a manageable size. We carried out the forequarters on our backs then broke for lunch at the truck to wait for the others. We unloaded the ATV and with our troop of helpers, returned to finish the job at about 2:30. With everyone’s help, we had the whole moose carried out and load by 4:30 p.m. I enjoyed spending time with Eric and sharing this adventure with him. When it was time to leave the carcass and beaver flowage behind, I wanted to stay. It was such a beautiful, bountiful, and peaceful place. I will remember that hunt and that place forever!

Back at the lodge we learned Mark Plummer had made a perfect head-shot on a 51” bull. We all celebrated that night for sure. By Thursday all were tagged out. The Murphys stayed for the week and did some grouse hunting and just plain old relaxing and vacationing. We tried to convince them to move to The County – Jim works for Border Patrol, Karen is a French teacher. They’d fit right in up here! When their week ended they departed in style – Jim has a real train horn in his Blazer. As they drove up the driveway, blasting the horn, it sounded like the train from town had derailed and was headed right for the lodge! Wayne and I waved good bye with tears in our eyes, mostly from laughing!

We had a week “off” which means a week back at our real jobs, before Vinny, John, Sal, and Matt Bombara, and John “Smitty” Smith and Charlie Sayers returned for their annual deer hunt. They have hunted these parts, from Portage to Eagle Lake and points in between, for over 30 years. We love to relive their memories at dinner and have started a tradition of our own when Gloria Curtis (former owner of Crooked Tree Lodge) and her friend Diane spend an evening with us. They always bring a wonderful dessert and we tell stories until long after dinner has been cleaned up. There were no deer on the game pole but the camaraderie of camp continues for another year.

On the 22nd, I headed south for a deer hunt of my own. Mike Duni (Whitetails Unlimited, Unity Maine) invited me down for a three-day hunt in exchange for a spring salmon fishing trip. Since I hadn’t killed a deer in six years I jumped at the opportunity! I left in a snowstorm and it was slow-going. I called ahead to let Mike know I’d be late – he reminded me to take my time and since we’d be hunting right from his house we could still get in a couple of hours of hunting no mater what time I arrived. He greeted me with a bowl of delicious chili, I moved my gear in, changed in to my camo and blaze orange and we set out for an afternoon hunt. It was raining lightly so he suggested sitting in a shooting house he has at the edge of a small field. He also reminded me, if I wasn’t “fussy” I could probably go home with a deer. He’d been teasing me with trail camera photos of several does and a couple small bucks. I wasn’t fussy and would be thrilled just to see deer! As we approached the field there was already a doe feeding. We watched her and caught a glimps of another deer as they left. We snuck in to the shooting house and got set up. Within 45 minutes two yearlings came to feed and we watched them for 10-15 minutes – what a treat! Then, just as darkness began to descend a fork-horn buck walked in to the field. He fed completely back-end to me. He would be a perfect freezer buck, if only he’d present a shot! Mike and I whispered back and forth about our options and we agreed that if he presented an opportunity before dark I would take him. Finally, he turned just enough to his left that I could take a tight shot. I settled the crosshairs on him, quieted my breathing, relaxed, and squeezed. He dropped right there where he’d been feeding and never twitched! I was so excited! What a hunt! We hadn’t been out for three hours and had seen five deer and killed one! Mike was awesome! His property is managed for whitetails and it is obvious his skill and dedication has paid off. We tagged and weighed the deer then spent that evening celebrating and swapping stories. The next day I asked Mike to take me on a tour of other tagging stations in the area. It isn’t hard to entertain a girl from The County – I was amazed to learn that four other tagging stations had already tagged more that 100 deer each and they were all located within a half hour of each other! We’d be lucky if even 300 deer were tagged in the entire Aroostook County this fall! We visited with Jerry and Sandy Whitcomb (Brooks) and stopped by to see the deer hanging at Duane Webber’s camp (Dixmont). They had two; Tom’s doe and Jeff’s buck. Wednesday Mike gave me a guided tour of his property before I headed further south to spend Thanksgiving with Miranda, Tyler, Acadia, and Nellie. Wayne stayed home for Thanksgiving – he worked and hunted a big buck that has eluded him for three years now. But I brought home venison for the freezer. That, some moose heart, and grouse…we’d be eating well off the land this winter. As another Thanksgiving came to pass I am thankful for good friends, the love of my family, and precious memories.

Grouse Tales

Before turning our attention to a week of November moose hunting and the opening of deer season, we enjoyed another couple of productive weeks of bird hunting in northern Aroostook County. Our two German shorthaired pointers (Grace and Alli) performed remarkably well after waiting months for their favorite time of the year and sitting out while we were guiding moose hunters. They did get a few days afield when we could treat our tagged-out moose hunters to a few days of grouse hunting. Alli did see some pre-season action that got her tuned-up for the real deal. While running bear baits I had allowed Alli to ride shotgun; she got some much needed exercise on those days. She was rewarded for her patience waiting for me to “dump & run” dozens of buckets of bait. She alertly watched me enter the woods and anticipated my return, always wanting to join me for these brief excursions. At the end of our daily trips she learned to look forward to the opportunity to “free run” in front of the truck on some of the seldom traveled branch roads. It was excellent exercise for the upcoming bird season when she would spend hours searching covers for grouse and woodcock. She was building stamina and conditioning muscles. She also developed new talent for sniffing out grouse hiding in the grasses along roadsides. The first time I saw her slam on point I couldn’t imagine what had caught her attention. I stopped the truck, got out to investigate, and low and behold a covey of young grouse burst in to flight in all directions! WOW! I think Alli was as surprised as I was to see the birds go! I expressed my gratitude with a pat on the head and a “good girl” then sent her down the road again. We repeated this exercise many times in August and September. Come October I had plans for this new technique…

Wayne had never seen Alli “road” grouse. I told him about it but he thought the story was an exaggeration until one afternoon we had a chance to hunt over the dogs together. Wayne and I take turns when hunting together over the dogs…first bird was his and whether he missed or bagged it, the next would be mine. It kept the hunt fair, and competitive! After alternating Grace and Alli in several covers and bagging a couple of grouse, I suggested we try this new method. It was a warm, sunny day and we’d already spooked several grouse from the roadsides. Wayne had two grouse after I missed my first opportunity of the day, so it was my turn again…We’d taken a right off the main haul road when I suggested we put Alli out. Wayne was skeptical. She loped in front of us, occasionally casting in to a cover. Her white coat allowed us to keep track of her location through the dense cover when she trotted in, then out of the woods as we cruised along. I’d been bragging about her abilities so was excited and hopeful she would soon find a bird. Then she did it! Soon after taking a right on to another branch road she slid to a stop, nose at a distinct angle toward the ground directly in front of her. Wayne stopped the truck, I opened the door to step out and drop two shells in my Winchester 101 when the grouse literally flew up in to my face and rocketed across the windshield, down in to the cedars on the opposite side. I redirected Alli and we were off on a wild grouse chase! She quickly relocated the bird and as it flew back from where it came, I fired and there it fell – the first grouse shot over “Alli-the-wonder-dog”. We used this technique several other times during the season with similar results. It is a fun way to bust birds off the road sides on those days when hunting is slow.

Dewitt Davies drove up from Long Island, New York, on October 24th for his ninth guided grouse hunt. He hunted over Grace when she was a pup, and was there to hunt over Alli her first season. Grace is now 7, Alli 3 is years old. I had to work the first day of Dewitt’s hunt so Wayne guided him to a limit of grouse. The pressure was on when it was my turn (remember, we’re a competitive pair!) It turned out to be a rainy day but our spirits would not be dampened. I knew where we’d left several grouse near a stream bed in Pennington. Those grouse were there every time I checked on them. With a momentary break from the rain we parked the truck and decided to hunt the birds up on our own. I instructed Dewitt on where to expect the birds and sure enough, soon after crossing the stream three birds quickly took to flight. Dewitt downed one. I collected the bird and stowed it in my vest. We took to the woods to hunt up the other two, searching the ground and scanning the trees until I spotted one of the grouse on the branch of a tall fir, neck stretched, ready for flight. Dewitt eyed the bird just as it launched, he fired, and another bird fell for the bag! At this rate we might have a limit of grouse before lunchtime. We never did find the third grouse and as the rain returned, and increased, we stared back to the truck. After walking 20 minutes out after a 5 minute walk in I had to admit I was “turned around.” “Dewitt, I don’t quite know where we are” I confessed. He questioned, “You’re kidding, right?” No, I was not kidding. I had left my compass at the truck for this quick in-and-out hunt but now the only indication of direction was the distant sound of an occasional logging truck traveling Route 11. Heading off toward Route 11, while a sure thing, would take us a couple miles through some low, dense and wet country. Dewitt had a compass in his pocket, a never used gift from his grandfather. He handed it to me and I decided to do some dead reconing – pick a direction and go with it. There were familiar geographic features but with a low ceiling I couldn’t be sure if the map in my head was in fact a correct mapping of the features I was trying to interpret. We finally walked in to an old clear-cut. Since modern clear cuts are made with heavy equipment, that equipment must be brought in on the road system. We just had to walk the clear cut to find the road. I knew the road system so although it might be a long walk, it would be an easy walk back to the truck on a dirt road. An hour and 16 minutes after declaring myself “lost”. We were back to the truck looking like a couple of drowned rats! Back at the lodge for lunch and dry clothes we talked about our adventure. Dewitt asked what we would have done had it been late afternoon and darkness fell? I explained we would have made the most of what we had – the safety of a clear cut – we’d have walked it until daylight then walked out, like we had just done. When he confessed spending the night in the woods made him uncomfortable I explained that it would them become my responsibility as his guide to gain his trust in my ability to keep him safe. At that moment it occurred to me – why would Dewitt trust me, it was me who got us lost in the first place! We both laughed long and hard!

Dewitt went safely back to New York with his limit of grouse, anticipating cooking them for his family for Christmas.

NOTE: I received a call from Dewitt on Christmas day – he wanted to tell me how delicious the grouse had been and how much he enjoyed cooking them with his new son-in-law. We never know how our adventures in the woods of Maine will be shared with others or how one memory of a hunt extends and adds to other memories, long after the hunt.