On The Road Again: On My Own in Maine
By: John Kumiski
After being with us in Lovell almost two weeks, Maryann had to leave on Sunday. Susan wondered what she'd do during the coming week. I suggested she go back to Winthrop with Maryann. She could visit friends and visit Boston. I'd meet her near the end of the week. She jumped at the suggestion, and they left together, leaving me on my own in Maine.
After they left, I thought I'd try to do some trout fishing. I took Route 113 up to White Mountain National Forest, to the Wild River, hoping to fly fish for some native brook trout.
The river resembled an irrigated rock garden. I checked several areas and found what was probably the deepest pool in the river. There was no sign of fish, and I could see every pebble on the bottom. The Wild flows into the Androscoggin River, only a few miles away from where I was. The last few miles were covered, and I found myself at the boat landing in Gilead.
The Wild River wasn't very wild, being mostly dry.
I met a local fly fisher there. We chatted for a while, and he convinced me to gear up. I spent a couple hours swinging a streamer in a stretch of river about a quarter mile long without getting a touch. My new friend and another local fly caster who was there had just as many bites as me.
I decided to try my luck at Swan's Falls on the Saco River. I drove past Lovell to get there. It was late in the day, and the light from an overcast sky was starting to fail. I swung the streamer there, too, and suddenly the line came tight. The fish was strong, taking line several times, making me wonder what it was. It turned out to be a fallfish, the largest specie in the minnow family. Not a trout or a bass, but a fish that took my fly and pulled drag- I'll take it. Another, smaller specimen followed a while later. The trout and bass failed to appear. Dark did appear, though, and I was done for the day.
A Saco River fallfish, caught below Swan's Falls.
Monday's forecast was for a high of 54, with rain. Not a day I wanted to be out paddling, so I wadered up and fished the old channel of the Saco with a spin rod. My soft plastic minnow fooled two fallfish and a chain pickerel, and two pickerel cut me off. I was not skunked. The heavens opened up around 1400, so I bagged it.
It rained hard all night. The Saco went up four feet! Tuesday I could have gone whitewater paddling, but decided to go to a place I'd been wanting to see, Kezar Pond. At the put-in on the old course of the Saco, the current had reversed and was flowing hard into the pond. With visions of hordes of fish waiting for the smorgasbord the river must be delivering, I rode the current a mile on the way there. I knew getting back would be hard.
Fifty-two degrees and cloudy does not good bass fishing make. The hordes of fish weren't there. I got two pickerel bites, missed one, and was cut off by the other. I was on the windy side of the lake, with rain threatening, the river continuing to rise, and not much fish action. I decided discretion was the better part of valor, and I got back in the kayak and paddled the mile back.
I went to the Kezar River Reserve, a Greater Lovell Land Trust property, to check it out. I ended up going for a long walk there, picking some young Boletus mushrooms along the way. Sauteed in butter, they were the basis of my dinner that night.
Boletus mushrooms on the reserve.
Wednesday, I found my way to Horseshoe Pond. A more scenic body of water is hard to imagine, but the fish weren't on. Using the kayak to fish the entire way around the pond, I got one small smallmouth and three tiny ones, all on surface flies. No bites were had on any soft plastics. The weather was perfect, though, the experience sublime.
After wrapping it up at Horseshoe, I tried Kezar Lake. The biggest chain pickerel of the trip struck a Culprit worm on the first cast. I badly wanted a picture, but didn't want to hurt the fish, or end up bleeding, so no photo. I fished hard until after a spectacular sunset, getting only one small bass on a popping bug.
Smallmouth bass from Horseshoe Pond.
The equinox fell on Thursday. It dawned raining hard. I did some writing, packing, fly tying, and cooking. The rain stopped mid-afternoon. After returning the kayak to its owner, I put my solar panel back on the roof, preparing for the inevitable and quickly upcoming return to the road trip.
There was heavy mist in the mountains- pictures were taken, followed by a drive to Moose Pond in hope of getting sunset photos. It showered on me as soon as I arrived, and instead of the sunset pictures I wanted, I got photos of a rainbow!
Rainbow over Moose Pond.
Friday dawned cold and windy. Susan was supposed to come back later this day. I went for a light hike and then another at a different place. The second hike quickly turned into a foraging trip after I found some chanterelles. Boletus, puffballs, and coral mushrooms were added to the bag. Saturday's breakfast was wild mushrooms and eggs, quite the gourmet treat.
Saturday, our final day in Maine, Susan and I went hiking again. It was still windy and cold, which makes ideal hiking weather. The leaves were starting to change color. We went over a small mountain with stunning views, covering a distance of more than three miles, a perfect way to end our wonderful stay in Maine.
View from the mountaintop while hiking.
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