Before we got married, my husband John and I would fish for brook trout in Mount Vernon, Maine. It was one of the few places where a brook trout were more than six inches long and not many people fished the brook. At first I wasn’t a fan of brook fishing because my lines seemed to always get tangled in a bush. I spent as much time untangling my line from tree limbs as I did actually fishing. I ended buying short kiddie poles and they worked great for brook fishing. This is probably when I really learned how to fish and learned how to tell when a fish bites, and only then did I really started to enjoy fishing.
Eventually I graduated up to being able to fish at East Carry with my husband’s family. Fishing East Carry was special because it was the only place we could catch big brookies…or so we thought. Back then fishermen were allowed to keep 5 fish over 8 inches and could catch them using the “plug” fishing method, which is simply big night crawlers on a #4 hook, no bobber, and slow reeling in the line to attract the fish. And these fish ranged in size of 12-16 inches most of the time. We had so much fun and we usually caught our limit–obviously too much fun because now fishing on East Carry is restricted to artificial lures only, and only two fish can be kept. We’ve learned to limit ourselves as well. We release way more than we keep.
Spring brook fishing in Mount Vernon became an annual outing with our kids until someone started blocking access. After a brief confrontation with a person who wasn’t the landowner but only someone who wanted the fishing and the access all for himself, my husband defied the man’s yelling and continued on his way. He was taking our youngest, who loved to fish and he wasn’t about to let this guy ruin it; however, it did ruin the fun and the son didn’t want to go there anymore.And that was the end of brook fishing there.
That’s when we decided to take him to Otter Pond. Other than fishing East Carry, we never really fished for trout. Otter Pond is a tributary pond to East Carry Pond; it’s a small road accessible pond that has brook trout and it allows for worms. Perfect!
We had artificial lures too, and the boy was awesome using them, but I never caught anything except bottom or a tree limb with a treble hook lure, so I wasn’t all that excited to spend a whole weekend trying to catch fish with them. Then came the brilliant idea. We decided to teach ourselves how to fly fish so that we could once again fish East Carry Pond. Fly fishing was a new adventure for all of us. We would always see fish surfacing on the far side of Otter Pond, but never where we could get to without a canoe.So we loaded up the camper and the canoe, and set out to take the boy fishing for the weekend. We tried brook fishing along the way. We didn’t have a lot of luck but fishing made the boy happy and that’s all we hoped for.
All three of us in the canoe: John paddled from the back, I was in the front and Tyler was in the middle. We spent the weekend taking turns casting, perfecting the casting technique, tying on different flies, and learning the art of setting the hook. We caught fish after fish and release most of them. We saved enough to have one meal which we cooked over the campfire that night.
Yes, there were squabbles followed by awkward moments of silence. “Mom went out of turn”, “the fish jumped by me…not you”, our lines became tangled, Dad didn’t say “casting” before he started casting, and the boy almost jumped out of the canoe when he saw a spider in the tackle bag…but all in all, it helped us learn how to work together, to communicate, and to enjoy each others’ company, and for that, I’ll always cherish these memories.
Now we pretty much only fly fish unless we’re fishing for perch in Great Pond or striped bass on the coast. Fly fishing keeps the mind busy and there’s seldom boredom with fly fishing…and catching a fish on a fly is so exciting. When it’s too windy to fish the pond, we head to the river. It makes wading the river currents and casting and interpreting the waters all the more satisfying.
For almost six years, the three of us have fly fished out of the canoe and explored the pond. The youngest now 18 years old, isn’t as excited to go because we marathon fish, but we’re hoping we can coax him to join us a few times before he starts his summer job. As much as we’d like him to join us, we’ve learned to go without him, and enjoy sunsets and fish rises on East Carry. We don’t do much brook fishing anymore…but if you get the chance, it’s another great way to get yourself or a kid outdoors.
Sunset on East Carry and fly fishing the hatch. ❤
So April 1st kicks off the official open water season. If you don’t have a little slice of heaven on the Serpentine, try to find one, or plan a canoe trip down the Serpentine. Then 
The hunt was over in about five minutes. We barely made it past legal hunting time, but we had a turkey. A beautiful wet turkey. By the time we retrieved him, his feathers were soaked from the flapping of his wings before he died.
John carried my turkey out because I knew when I held it that I’d never make it to the truck. He still carries my birds…two last year! We knew he was big. My turkey topped the scales at 24.5 pounds! The state record was just over 25 pounds at the time. Unfortunately, I never had the man at the tagging station certify my weight and records are only kept for 10 years, so I never got my Maine Wild Turkey Club patch. It’s a club for all turkeys over 20 pounds. I mounted his beautiful tail and 9-7/8 inch beard. His spurs were 7/8″ long but I did not keep them.
Within five minutes of returning to the truck we were met by two game wardens. They knew of this big bird and they heard me shoot. It was an interesting conversation because they assumed it was John who shot the turkey and kept directing questions to him. When John told them I shot the turkey their eyes showed the surprise, and then came the questions. I really did shoot that turkey Mr. Game Wardens! My how things have changed since then! I’m glad to see more women are out there so that I’m no longer the exception to the rule.
Almost two weeks ago, I was out in the woods getting my mind clear, looking for antlers and trudging through some pretty deep snow when my foot fell deep through a snow covered brush pile. I fell flat on my face; my .22 barrel drove into the ground, and I got this incredible burning pain in my left knee. My foot had become lodged so that when I fell, there was no give, and the knee took the brunt of the fall. After a few curse words I got up and walked out, but the knee was incredibly stiff and sore. By the next day, I could barely walk on it and I feared the worst. What I don’t need is a torn ACL since I’m already the candidate for a knee replacement and with fishing season beginning in about a month, the last thing I want to do is be sidelined when I should be casting my fly rod. A trip to the doctor and I was told no torn ligament, just a good knee sprain that needs rest.
These were hot last year and since there were no bugs, these nymphs were the only thing catching salmon. Dubbing sounds harmless enough, but it’s a nightmare to work with. Dubbing is dyed rabbit fur. It’s used to make the bump on the nymph…How much, how thin, too thin, too thick..gahhh! It seems like the harder I tried to make it look clean, the worse it looked.
Each year we venture to a spot to see the deer. In the past, we gave “bucks for does and dough for bucks.” This year, we did not leave money since I heard they’re not particularly fond of hunting or hunters. We still enjoy watching the deer and other onlookers who never let us down.
I always find it interesting to see people who think that wild animals are docile, cute little things that they can pet like a dog or cat. The deer seemed to be much more aggressive this year, and there wasn’t much time when a scuffle for food wasn’t taking place. If you saw the way these deer fight, you’d be smart to stay in your car…I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that hoof…but nope, some woman with her five something year old thought they would try to see how close they could get to feed a deer with an apple, which only drove the deer further away…and then the two teenage girls who also decided they need to get out of their vehicle, climb over the snowbank and approach the deer…yeah…what ever happened to just viewing and enjoying?
There was at least 55 deer on the lawn, with dozens in the woods and on the other sides of the property. I would estimate at least 100 deer in counting distance. We were lucky to see one nice 6-8 point buck that hadn’t dropped his antlers yet. My deer dropped his on January 21st…it might as well have been last year since it feels longer than that. This buck was also aggressive and chasing does; you’d think it was October the way he was chasing! It’s incredible to think these deer are out in this weather. At -8 at 3pm, I can’t even imagine how cold the nights get for them. They noses and chins were frozen so that you could see the hairs on their chins.
Later that same winter, I joined John and Ty for a trip north where there is prime rabbit habitat. Taking the dog north to rabbit hunt was extremely stressful for me. With stories of dogs being killed by bobcat or coyote, or getting lost, I had a very hard time not worrying about my son’s dog, Fly.
My Mainely Girl Adventures 