Maine, Brookies, and Roller Coasters
Brookies are a fun and colorful fish that I love to catch and release whenever I get a chance. Here in Pennsylvania, I have a few secret places that are home to this beautiful fish. They aren’t easily accessible, but I bet you that some of my Pennsylvanian fellow anglers have already fished them, and are trying to keep them a secret as well. Getting to these hidden places is an adventure by itself, but my family and I do enjoy adventurous trips. For instance, we usually drive 2 hours and hike for about 45 minutes through a very bushy trail, just to get to one of our secret fishing spots in PA. Once there, we spend several hours covering about a mile or two of the creek, just to catch a tiny brookie (my record so far: 10 inches). By the time the expedition is over, we are tired, covered in sweat (literally), mud, and ravenous. But to me, those precious tiny brookies are worth the time and effort. However, some people cannot understand how can I spend so much time fly-fishing, much less, in the scenario I just described. But as I say to them, “things in life are relative.” What I find interesting and daring could be quite boring or too much of an adventure for another person, and vice versa, but “C’est la vie.” This summer, for instance, my family and I went camping and fly-fishing for rainbow and brown trout in a place 5 hours away from our home in Philly. From camping and fly-fishing we moved to riding roller coasters at Cedar Point Park in Sandusky, Ohio. Remember, I already pointed out that things in life are relative, and riding roller coasters isn’t in my interests, but our son loves these types of machinery, and the thrill he gets from riding them. In fact, according to Sebi, and every person who knows, “Cedar Point is the best park in the world to ride roller coasters.” Thus, Sebi was delighted to ride every single roller coaster he could at this park. Jorge, after going on a couple of rides with Sebi, had enough thrills to last him until our son persuades him to visit another amusement park, and go on another ride with him. I simply got shaky by watching them ride these types of machines.
Our third trip of the summer found us in Rangeley, a picturesque town in Maine. This was our first time traveling to Maine, and Rangeley didn’t have any roller coasters for Sebi to ride, but our family got to experience a roller coaster of emotions, and a different kind of thrill.
We drove for about 15 hours to get to our selected lodge in Maine. In reality, the trip from Philly to Rangeley is supposed to take about 10 hours. That is, ten hours maximum if you don’t encounter too much traffic (which we did) and if there aren’t any road accidents (which there were). But we finally made it to our destination. The forecast for the next days: rain, rain, and more rain. It rained for four and a half of the seven days we were there, with temperatures fluctuating between 500F at night and 700F during the day. But during those rainy days the trout were on a feeding frenzy. I tried to land as many trout as I was able to hook, using at times a size 14 or 16 sulfur fly or a yellow Sally, and a size 10 or 12 green drake, as those days, the beautiful Hexagenia was another fresh entrée to the trout menu. A soft hackle size 16 fly proved to be effective as well. However, my using of barb-less hooks -which I always use- causes me to lose several trout. Yet, I cannot complain, as I did catch plenty of brookies, and so did Jorge and Sebi. Some of them small, some bigger, but all of them fun to catch and release! It was quite entertaining to watch a tiny brookie get a mouth full by gulping just one of the natural drakes!
Sebi shows one of the many brookies he caught.
But not everything was nice and easy during our Maine fishing trip. For instance, two of our fly rods got broken, on our way to fish Moose Run. In addition, Sebi’s tolerance to fish on a rainy day -which he had done many times before- reached its limit. As a result, he became easily frustrated, as the anecdote that follows shows.
One rainy morning we got into our rented boat and rode it for about 45 minutes, searching for a small floating dock where we were supposed to tie our boat. There were hundreds of pine trees along the shoreline, and our eyes diligently scanned it, so we wouldn’t miss the dock. We finally found it, and in addition to small, the dock was also quite tilted. Even so, we managed to leave our vessel tied to it, and headed to find the trail that would take us to our fishing grounds. Sebi found some sticks, which became our hiking staffs for the next 30 to 40 minutes hike ahead of us. The rain became our shadow, and followed us throughout the trail, making it very muddy and slippery. Its presence however didn’t intimidate us, and we continued our hike throughout the forest. Up and down hills we went, stepping on slippery stones, and going underneath or around logs. Finally, a clearance in the forest let us know we were close to our targeted fishing spot. A few minutes later we were ready to launch one of the two boats left there by the lodge employees. Checking one of them Jorge said, “This boat doesn’t have the oarlock, let’s use a piece of rope. We constructed a working oar lock with a length of rope pushed down through the oar lock bracket and launched the boat. That’s when I noticed another thing wrong with it: water leaking in. “Where is this water coming from?” I asked out loud. I searched the boat carefully and saw the cause of the problem. The plug of the boat wasn’t working properly, allowing water to leak in. So there we were: trying to row a boat with a piece of rope replacing its oarlock, water leaking through the boat’s plug, and rain falling upon us continuously! A scene for a comedy, don’t you think? Just so you, I did mention the boat’s leak to Jorge a few times, but with a very serious look on his face he said, “What? Do you want to return because there’s a little water in the boat? That leak is not a big deal. We’ll bail the boat as needed.” Seeing his reaction I decided to keep my mouth shut, as sometimes one has to choose one’s battles, and to me, this one wasn’t worth the fight.
The rain, taking a break once in a while showed us some mercy. The cold however managed to get its freezing fingers underneath our foul weather gear and layers of clothes, making Sebi and I shiver almost constantly. Jorge on the other hand was a different story. That is, the sky can pour entirely upon him, and the wind can make the atmosphere damp and colder, but as long as he is fishing, he doesn’t make much of it. That day of course, the fishing was spectacular, which made Jorge forget about the rain and the cold at once. I also managed to forget about the poor weather once in a while. But the chilly temperature made Sebi get tired of fishing rather soon. He put down his fly rod and began to complain about the rain, the cold, and the amount of water accumulated in the boat. However, the only time Jorge noticed Sebi’s protest, as well as the amount of water in our boat, was when he was about to release a brookie he has just caught. The trout slipped from his hands into our 15ft boat and began to swim freely along it! “We told you the boat was leaking,” Sebi and I said at once, laughing our hearts out. The whole scene was hilarious: the brookie swimming back and forth, and Jorge laughing, while trying to catch it. If you were there, you would have laughed too, as it seemed harder for Jorge to catch the trout inside the boat than outside of it! He finally released the feisty brookie, and helped bail the boat. Sebi soon forgot about the amusing incident and returned to complain about been out fishing on such a rainy day.
In this picture, the look on Sebi’s face said it all! Jorge on the other hand looks quite happy.
One of my many brookies.
I believe that Sebi’s attitude on that particular fishing day was related in part to the fact that since our arrival at the lodge, the rain was constant, rather than sporadic. Also, at age 131/2 Sebi has developed other interests besides paleontology, reading, and fishing. For instance, he loves roller coasters, and I’m sure he would have preferred to be in an amusement park riding one (rain or not rain) rather than being fishing.
Upon our return to the lodge Sebi said to me, “There is no way I’m going fishing with you again in a cold rainy day, actually, not even on a sunny day. I just had it. What kind of vacations am I having,” and on, and on he went. I felt awful hearing how miserable our son felt that day. Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but to find it interesting that Sebi blamed me for having to put up with fishing on a rainy day. I then asked him, “Why don’t you include your dad when expressing how you feel about this day?” Then he said, “Mom, you know that just as roller coasters are my passion, dad’s passion is fishing.” “So is mine,” I said. “Yeah, I know, but it was raining, and cold. You could have stay at the lodge with me, or just let me stay by myself.”
Why are mothers the first one to be blamed or held responsible for any of her/his offspring disappointments in life? I could give you hundreds of reasons as of why. But for now I must say that frustration took its toll that day, and Sebi made sure I understood how much he paid for it. On the other hand, it felt good to see and hear my son expressing his disappointment. This meant he felt safe expressing his feelings to me. A very important detail, as he is now in his teen years, and I very much like to maintain the lines of communication open between us. Furthermore, Sebi loves nature and fishing very much, and has always been quite tolerant with our fishing adventures. Something needed to be done. “We’ll tour the town tomorrow,” Jorge said, after we talked about what happened that day.
The next day ends up being a sunny one. It felt as if nature was conspiring with us to make sure that Sebi would have a good day off from fishing. We drove through a beautiful and picturesque scenic road that was breath taking, toured the small town, and had lunch in a nice park. All throughout the day you could easily tell that Sebi was quite happy and having a good time, and so did we! The following day was also sunny and we decided to fish the Kenebago River to see if we could catch a land locked salmon.
Wading the Kenebago River was out of the question for us. The water level was quite high, and the current fast (because of the rain). But at the end of a particular trail we found a small open area facing a beautiful pool, and decided to cast from there. However, two people could not fish from that spot, much less three, at least, not at the same time. I decided to look for another open spot along the trail, and asked Sebi if he wanted to accompany me. Sebi decided to stay with Jorge, telling me that he had more space there to check for insects, and fish, if he wanted to. In previous trips my son would follow me everywhere I go. Now, being in his early teens, Sebi’s decision is what I call a beginning sign of emancipation from his mother. So, I left the guys behind and began to walk through another trail. Immersed on my thoughts I tripped on a log, and fell on a muddy spot. Nothing like a fall to make you look everywhere first; then walk! Inspecting the area, I saw a big flat rock about 10 feet away from the shore. “If I could wade to that flat rock without falling in the water, I could stand on it and cast from there as well,” I said to myself. Hiking staff in hand, I carefully waded towards the rock, and got on it. I didn’t have much space for a back cast, so I began to roll cast, making sure not to lose my balance (I wasn’t ready for another fall). After my third roll cast, I got a strike. But paying more attention to my surroundings than to the fly, I couldn’t set the hook on time. I roll cast again, and got a strike on the same previous spot. This time though, I caught the fish. It wasn’t a big one, just about 13 inches long, but it was my very first silvery land locked salmon! I was so happy that I shouted, “I caught a salmon.” Then, a voice shouted back, “So did dad.”
I couldn’t see Jorge or Sebi, as they were downstream from me. But the wind carried our voices back and forth, letting us know that everybody was having a good time. I continued fishing in the same spot and managed to catch one more salmon, a couple of browns, and one brookie. But I began to feel a bit dizzy from all the staring at the fast moving water while following my fly. “Time to go back to my guys,” I said to myself. As soon as Sebi saw me he said, “Mom, you need to see the salmons that dad caught,” and began to describe in detail how Jorge caught the fish. Seeing all his excitement I thought, “Our young angler is back.”
A land locked salmon made my son smile again!