“I Hate You Salmon” – A Poem of Frustration and Pain.
I went fishing today. It was swell. I discovered over the course of five (painful) hours that I hate landlocked salmon. HATE them. When they get in a taunting mood, I simply cannot deal with them. I mean honestly, you can’t tell me that salmon get their rocks off lazily following streamers. I don’t buy it, no Sir. I think they just enjoy being facetious. Then again, I’ve never really handled rejection well.
I missed the hook-set on a rather large fish today; one that brought tears to my eyes. And just before those tears had time to dry, another salmon roughly the size of my arm swam to within inches of my streamer. For what seemed like an eternity, he toyed with the idea of striking. I’ll never understand why some fish simply choose not to commit, but I’ll forever remember watching this one swim away. Casting from high above the water, I enjoyed (yeah right) a bird’s-eye view of his relentless taunts. I stayed focused on the pool my landlocked friend was no doubt inhabiting, but his disappearing act and plain arrogance ran all the time off my clock. At least a dozen streamers, angle changes, leader adjustments, and no less than 3 prayers (out loud mind you), and I still managed to walk away empty-handed, hearted, and absent of any pride or joy……(sigh)…… so in the interest of venting, I wrote a poem. Enjoy.
Better Days.
I hate you salmon, yes I do
I hate you always, through and through,
You burn my brain you haunt my soul
With every sip and every roll.
I hate you salmon, can’t you see?
This awful way you torment me.
With every splash you make me frown
And leave me dancing like a clown.
I’m kidding salmon, you’re a blast!
I love the way you dodge my cast
I smile when you destroy my fly,
Then leave me swearing at the sky
But in the end I’d have to say
Your game is one I love to play
And even though I hate your guts
I’ll always chase you like a putz.
“Biding My Time”
I’m still tickin’!
Work and life in general have kept me off the water this week, but the river waits for no one. The rain that we all knew was coming finally showed up on Sunday night, and the rivers have been slowly working their way towards levels we are more accustomed to during late April. I ventured south at the tail end of last week to make my presence known in the lower regions of our great state, but fishing never strayed far from my mind. Twenty minutes of browsing in the L.L.Bean Fishing store lightened my wallet, but afforded me an extra spool for my Lamson Litespeed, all wrapped up with an intermediate sinking line that should do wonders in the currently swelling Fish River. Saturday looks to be the day that I finally get back on the water, so for now I anxiously await what I hope will be another successful day of swinging streamers to (hopefully) hungry salmon.
It’s difficult to accept sometimes that fly fishing simply has to wait. My priorities have changed somewhat with a career entering the picture, but I’m far from out of the game. While summer vacation will allow me ample time to fish, I’ll need to work hard and budget my time if I plan on being successful during the Spring season. Success comes with hard work and dedication, and being a fair weather fisherman is simply not an option. I lose sleep at night thinking of spawning cycles, fly patterns, and stretches of river that I’m sure are holding fish. At the end of the day it’s all about getting on the water, and I’m frantic in my mission to wet a line. High water, low water, it really doesn’t matter. I need to be on the river, I need to fish.
With high water comes heightened risk, and this week provided an unfortunately reminder of this harsh reality. Warm temperatures and sunshine don’t necessarily mean warm water and safe conditions. I’ll be the first to admit that wearing a life jacket is typically little more than a passing thought for me, even during the most frigid days of April. Northern Maine lost a dedicated father and fisherman earlier this week, and I couldn’t be more sorry for the families that are suffering through this tragic incident. Fishing isn’t meant to be dangerous, but even the most accomplished sportsmen can fall victim to harsh conditions. I plan on wearing my life jacket until water levels reach safer levels and temperatures, and I urge my fellow fishermen to do the same. Life is far too precious to gamble, and experience counts for little when mother nature has other plans. Regardless, I take to the water this weekend with a heavy heart, and send my sincere condolences to the families of those who have lost an irreplaceable piece of their daily puzzle.
Enjoy your time on the water, be aware, and be safe each and every time you cast a line.
See you on the river,
-Ben
Punching In
The new Helios finally got a workout at the hands (figuratively speaking) of a hefty landlocked salmon measuring at just under 23 inches and close to 4 lbs. He put up no fight, instead opting to put the brakes on my streamer while he held his ground. My first impression was that I had snagged bottom, but a few nasty head shakes took care of that theory. More (and better) pictures to come, along with a full fishing conditions report for early April. Stay tuned!
Tight Lines,
-Ben
“Chasing Ghosts with Ghosts”
The weather through early April has been anything but consistent, and my mood has been anything but pleasant. It seems mother nature has decided that I need to slip and slide on the roads during my morning commute, and quite frankly I’m getting tired of waking up to snow. The endless cycle of morning flurries and evening melting has me mildly annoyed, and the lackluster fishing early on is not helping my sour mood.
- Snowy Morning, April 9th
Today I added a 10′ft “extra super sink” poly leader to my 5wt Orvis 3D Trout line in hopes that I could get my streamers further down in search of what are clearly lethargic salmon. I can’t recall ever throwing such a heavy leader, and the extra few feet of 8lb tippet made my 12+ foot rig fairly difficult to cast. My 10ft 5wt tip-flex Orvis Helios has me extremely impressed thus far, but even my newly acquired rocket launcher didn’t seem to have the kaboom required to cast such a bulky mess. Forty feet was about all I could manage at the end of the day, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sloppily reaching.
- Ghosts to Raise Ghosts: Afternoon Arsenal on Soldier Pond
Regardless, even with a lighter leader, my seemingly football field length bomber casts still haven’t been producing fish. With April water levels resembling those of late June, I’m still holding on to hope that it might be just a tad too early in the season for the all-out blitz I’m looking for. Grey Ghost, Green Ghost, and any other variation I can think to tie simply aren’t raising these ghostly salmon. With a little luck I’m hoping things might pick up just in time for my vacation next week. Time will most certainly tell.
- Spring Sunset, April 9th
See you on the river,
-Ben
“April Fools”
- My life is organized around fly fishing; perfectly planned and carefully calculated from every possible angle. This winter I made it a point to plan my season the way an architect lays out his latest project. I started by tying flies, everything from a grey ghost to a rainbow selection of hornburgs. As the snow began to fall, reading seemed like the logical next step. I worked my way through Casting With Lefty Kreh, The Alaska Chronicles, A River Runs Through It, and recently The River Why. On Up’North I’ve dabbled in poetry and short stories, while also composing the occasional “I hate winter” post to try to ease the pain.
By the end of February I experienced my first symptoms of Spring fever and started a countdown to April 1st on my laptop, iPad, and phone. My friends and family called me crazy when I began organizing my rods and reels, clearing out my fly boxes, and filling magazines with sticky notes labeling all of my favorite gear. First on the list was a jacket, waders and boots. Simms and L.L.Bean provided plenty of options, and I began withholding small amounts from each paycheck in preparation for placing orders at the end of March. Because representing the companies that support me is always at the top of my list, I made sure to stock up on decals as well. Die-cuts for the canoe were a must, extras for friends, neighbors, and random street signs also found their way into the mix.
- I wasn’t sleeping through opening morning. No way, no how.
When opening day finally arrived yesterday, my alarm sang a cheerful tune at 3:45am….and again at 4…..and then at 4:10 for good measure. Sunday morning is prime sleeping time, and my excitement just barely won a battle with my warm pillow as I planted my feet firmly on the floor and reached for the light. Two coffees and just over an hour later found me on the water, bundled and casting from the front deck of Derick’s square-stern Scott canoe with ice forming on my eyelashes. We claimed the title of first boat on the river in 2012, and it only took Derick 20 minutes to reel in what would be the first of four muskie that day, including the very first one of the season as the sun snuck over the horizon at 6am.
The conditions remained cold throughout the morning, climbing into the low 40s by the time we finally pulled out of the water around 11am. When the day was over my guide and his four fish were the only ones we could manage, while my rod and reel with nearly identical rigging was packed up with nothing to show for it’s (and my) efforts. I guess that’s why they call it fishing, not catching. Regardless, a few other friends did manage some great fish during the a.m. hours of day one. Corey Daigle of Fort Kent caught and released what had to be the fish of the day, a 22lb beauty that you can admire in one of the photos below. Brad Plourde and Ronald Jandreau made some noise early on as well with a few sizable fish of their own. Me? Muskie fishing has never been my strong point, and I’m honestly not sure it ever will be. I do have great respect for the anglers that chase these massive fish however, knowing from personal experience that it truly is “the fish of a thousand casts.” If luck and time afford me the pleasure, I look forward to connecting with a few in the near future.
- Maine Guide Derick Plourde poses with the first (and his first of 4) muskie of 2012 at 6am on April 1st.
- Corey Daigle with a 22lb beauty on opening day!
- Brad Plourde with a healthy early season muskie!
- The man, the myth, The legend Mr. Ron Jandreau with a great fish to start out his 2012 season!
……but not too near in the future of course….I have some salmon to catch. I managed a single hour of casting for salmon with my helios on opening day before the wind and ice chased me from the water. Tomorrow will be a different story…..after work of course.
See you on the river, bundled and casting with a big goofy smile.
-Ben
And It Begins
Day 1 of the 2012 open water fishing season is officially in the books! An early morning was the key to success this time, and captain Derplo hit the ground running with his first four muskie of the season. No bombers to brag about this time,though the river did give up at least one monster that I know of.
Muskie fishing is still relatively new to me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely out of my element today. Still, it was great to be on the river for the first time since late last Summer. 5:30am on April 1st is by far the earliest I’ve ever been on the water, and mother nature wasted no time reminding us that ice was still very much a part of the scenery. Frozen guides, frozen lines, and frozen fingers made this day one I won’t soon forget. Check back tomorrow for a full account of the day, and enjoy a few photos while you wait! I have a warm bed waiting, and a fresh season to dream about.
- Saint John River, April 1st
- Derick Plourde releasing his first muskie of the year. April 1st, 2012-6am, 17F
See you on the river,
-Ben
It’s Coming
As you’ve undoubtedly noticed, Up’North is counting down the days until the 2012 open water fishing season arrives on Sunday, April 1st. I’ve been writing for the better part of three hours, but my excitement dealt a knockout blow to my grammar and organizational skills before I could put the finishing touches on my “Gear in Review” post. Check back tomorrow for the finished (and hopefully polished) piece offering an inside look at some of the gear I’ll be testing throughout the 2012 season. Great products from Loon Outdoors, Orvis, L.L.Bean, Lamson-Waterworks, and more. For now, enjoy a little photography from this past Fall at Round Pond. I’ll come back atchya’ before you know it!
3 days and counting, waiting about as patiently as you might expect.
-Ben
Bartender, on Ice!
I know northern Maine is far from the only place experiencing unusually warm temperatures lately, but this is downright frightening. I have watched the Fish river thaw in the front of my house for the better part of a month, but I never expected it to be free and clear of ice before April 1st. The first official day of open water fishing is rarely a day that sees me on the water, but mother nature seems to have other plans this time around.
March 20 is the earliest I have ever personally seen the Fish river running clear, and I’m honestly not sure how I feel about it. The strange weather will likely result in a less-than-predictable Spring fishing season; and unless we get some rain in the near future, running the river through late May will be a chore. Regardless, I have less than two weeks to make my final preparations before I open the door on my first full season of fly fishing northern rivers in nearly six years.
- Fish River free of Ice, March 20, 2012
Meanwhile, I was lucky enough to haul one last brook trout through the ice this past saturday before the end of the ice fishing season. The temps climbed well into the 60s as we watched our flags from lawn chairs parked in the middle of the lake. In addition to the trout we landed nearly a dozen perch and a lonely chub before the sun sank down behind the mountains. Only eleven days left until open water fishing, and I can’t wait to trade the snowmobiles and ice traps in for my canoe and fly rods. Viva la ice-out!
- 16inch Brook Trout fresh from the ice.
See you on the river,
-Ben
Cover Your…
Up’North recently made it’s marketing debut courtesy of Travis Duval and the great people at United Insurance! See that brook trout? I put it to net in 2008 during a beautiful Fall evening trolling streamers on the Fish river. Catching that fish remains one of my most cherished memories in fly fishing, and I couldn’t be more proud that the hard-working people at United Insurance decided to use my photo when designing their new guide pamphlet for 2012.
I’ve known Travis Duval for as long as I can remember, and aside from being a standup guy, he also holds a true passion for hunting and fishing. Whether he’s chasing partridge in the Allagash during the dead of Fall, or casting for muskie on the Saint John River, Travis lives his life in and around the Maine wilderness. If you make your living guiding clients in the Maine’s great outdoors, why not trust an insurance agent who truly knows what you need in an insurance policy? Review the materials below, and feel free to give your friendly area agent a call with any questions or inquiries.
Travis knows what you need to guide your next outdoor adventure, and that knowledge provides him with the expertise needed to guide your insurance decisions as well.
- Click Image to Read Details!
- Click Image to Read Details!
A sincere thank you goes out to Travis Duval, Thibodeau’s Insurance, and the rest of the United Insurance family. See you on the river; wherever the current takes you!
-Ben
Sunday River 2012
Before fly fishing became my passion, skiing controlled my youth. I would spend every weeknight after school bagging groceries, Fall break picking potatoes, and Summer mowing lawns and doing odd-jobs in support of a hobby that had turned into my obsession by age 17. We skied in October on only inches of snow, we prayed for powder days, and we did things on skis that our parents swore would get us killed.. While I’m obviously still alive and kickin’, I can say with confidence looking back that some of my most treasured memories were made on the snow.
- Sunday River 2012
For financial reasons and obvious time constraints, I drifted from skiing during my college years. A passion that consumed over 100 solid days of my life during any given season was reduced to a hobby enjoy no more than a handful of times during winter breaks and precious weekend getaways. Friends moved away, priorities changed, and I caught the fly fishing bug. Fortunately for me, this long weekend with great friends went a long way towards reigniting the fire. A new tradition born, and some new memories made on the snow! Now bring on the Spring thaw!
“The Alaska Chronicles”
It’s been nearly three years since “The Alaska Chronicles” was published, so you could say I’m a little behind. After battling a barrage of college history books, my love for reading suffered a brutal blow and has since endured a lengthy and strenuous recovery period. I was cruising Amazon a few weeks back and came across Mr. Nolte’s book completely by accident. I’d be withholding information if I didn’t say I instantly had one of those “have you been living under a rock” moments. In the process of ordering “The Alaska Chronicles,” I noticed it was conveniently available as an ebook. I downloaded it and subsequently finished it before I went to sleep that night.
- Click to Purchase!
Books of this nature are typically a difficult read for me, I’ll be the first to admit that. Reading about someone else’s adventures on the water seldom holds a candle to enjoying those experiences myself, so I generally avoid the genre altogether. Miles Nolte may be an experienced and well-respected guide, but if he can cast a fly as well as he can write, he deserves an Alaskan river named in his honor. From the opening line to the closing paragraph, The Alaska Chronicles was so beautifully written that it rendered me sleepless when I finished it, a feat few novels from countless bestselling authors have ever managed to accomplish. But the genius of this story wasn’t accomplished with loaded words, embellished descriptive paragraphs, or any sort of artsy literary work at all. Simplicity paved the way, a simplicity that helped me experience Alaska at a level that could only be bested by a plane ticket and a guided trip of my own.
Miles Nolte’s “no bullshit” approach to writing was refreshing, and his story reads as what I can only dare to imagine is the definitive truth behind the highs and lows of working as an Alaskan river guide. He manages to portray his clients in a way that is as respectful as it is critical and humorous. The dip-spitting rednecks, the grateful (and sometimes ungrateful) executives, and the arrogant “pinner” show us that guiding is nothing if not brutally challenging at times, while at other times humbling and rewarding. He manages to highlight the “not so glamorous” side of guiding in one of the most beautiful places in the world, a task not so easily accomplished when addressing what many see as the dream job of all dream jobs. But in an inexplicable sort of way, Miles Nolte makes the experience more desirable. In reading, you feel for him when the fishing fails to cooperate, and you celebrate his triumphs as if you are standing beside him, waist deep with net in hand. Many authors can immerse you in a world of fantasy or terror, but few in my experience can make such a simple reality so overwhelmingly gripping. Every rainy day, every cheap cup of coffee, every moment of motor trouble leaves you wishing you could share in the misery. The Alaska Chronicles is uncut, unaltered truth at it’s finest; and you can’t help but appreciate Nolte’s attention to detail. The lack of polish is ironically what makes this story shine, and the only fault I dare point out is that the story could not avoid an ending.
Two thumbs WAY UP for Miles Nolte and “The Alaska Chronicles.” Looking back, I regret not taking a day out of my busy schedule to read it sooner. Upon completion I immediately ordered a hardcover copy for my ever-expanding library, and I urge anyone who does not own a copy to do the same. The Alaska Chronicles is a must-have book for any fly fisherman, avid or otherwise. Crawl out from under your rock and read it, I couldn’t be more happy that I did.
See you on the river,
-Ben
On The Menu
..................... . . . . Coming soon on Up'North
What did you think “On The Menu” meant?
- Up’North’s marketing debut: Who’s guiding your insurance decisions?
- A photographic timeline: Dad’s cedar strip canoe build Part 1.
- Book reviews: The Alaska Chronicles, Guaranteed to Last: L.L.Bean’s Century of Outfitting America, Lines on the Water:
A Fly Fisherman’s Life on the Miramichi - Fall 2011 photography feature: The lost collection.
- Gear 2012: A look at Up’North’s favorites from L.L.Bean, Simms, Ross, Orvis, and more.
- Battle Ready: Choosing a fly rod for northern Maine rivers.
It all kicks off this weekend, don’t go far!
Tight Lines,
-Ben
Happy 3rd Up’North!
As you’ve undoubtedly heard time and time again over the course of three years on this site, time moves slowly in my neck of the woods. But that’s not to say that it drags. This week makes three years since Up’North officially grew it’s wings, and I count this website among the aspects of my life that have flown by. Come to think of it, “time moves slowly” seems awfully inaccurate. Time is constant; it’s what you do, where you live, and who you spend that time with that really determines the quality and pace at which you move through life. If Maine won any superlatives in a yearbook, it would probably nab most laid back. I’d like to think my life, and this site, live up to that superlative. If not, I’ve got some serious work to do.
I started writing the standard “I’d like to thank everyone…” post to commemorate Up’North’s third year, but half way through, a lethal combination of sinus medication and boredom locked me up in a deep slumber and threw away the key. Simply put, you know who you are. If you’ve ever done anything to support Up’North in any way at all, I am sincerely thankful for your contributions. If not, I take cash or credit, literature or gear.
I’ve learned a lot about the bloggin’ business in three years, and not all of it brings a smile to my face. One thing I know for certain is that at some point, posting on a daily basis simply started to suck. I wasn’t excited about waking up early to sit at my laptop anymore, go figure. The pressure became unnecessary, and Up’North became more taxing than fun. I had to make a change. Year three for Maine Fly Castings was a year full of changes, eventually leading to the simple looking blog I present to you today. My goal was to capture the bare essentials of fly fishing in northern Maine. The sights and the sounds through photography and creative writing. The world through my eyes. I feel like I’ve accomplished that goal, and readership has shown I’m headed in the right direction. People ask me often if I believe my blog is successful, and I’m honestly never sure what they want to hear in my answer. Up’North will never make me rich, but I let that dream go early on. What I believe makes Up’North successful stems from the relationships it has helped me form, and the opportunities it has generated for me in the world of fly fishing. I’ve met some amazing people simply because I love fly fishing, and not all are directly involved in the industry. Some are fish bums just like me, others are photographers, and many others are talented writers, poets, or just plain interesting individuals. Some I have had the pleasure of meeting, some I no doubt will meet sooner than later. So do I believe Up’North is successful after 3 years? Definitely. Anything that further enhances my love for fly fishing is a smashing success in my book. Below you will find a number of things I’ve learned in my years at the helm of Up’North Maine Fly Castings. Some good, some not so good. This isn’t meant to be a guide by any stretch, just some simple observations that I feel have helped me stay sane since this all began on a cold February night in 09′.
- Up’North’s Original Graphic: Circa 2009
- It is beneficial to write ONLY what you know, and think about the audience you wish to reach. Everyone wants thousands of views a day, but have you ever stopped to think about who those people actually are? I hope to reach those who truly love fly fishing, regardless of where they live. These people typically enjoy nature in general, so they usually stick around when I veer off to write about hunting, or simply focus on photography for a few weeks. If I have nothing in common with the people viewing my materials, what good does it do me? By writing what you know and finding your niche, your audience may be small, but I guarantee they will be more engaged. I don’t want people to read my posts in passing, I want them to sit and think about the content and experience my experiences for themselves. If I can do that, I’ve accomplished my goal.
- With that said, I’ve learned it’s important to listen to my readers. Answer emails, entertain phone calls, and be respectful of their opinions. That’s not to say I write or post something simply because someone asks for it, but I have been known to answer requests from time to time. Chances are, my readers favorite posts are also my favorite posts to write. This type of personal attention can open many doors, and I cringe to think at the opportunities that may have slipped by had I not opened a certain email or replied to a comment.
- Dictate your own direction. You wouldn’t believe the suggestions and offers I get from people and organizations on nearly a daily basis. Promises of higher web traffic, increased income from advertising, and free products or discounts in exchange for a post about camping or their snazzy new trolling motor. Don’t sell out and stray from delivering on the image YOU wish to portray. Can you really use a 10% discount at crazyboatingdeals.com? Follow your own path, and I promise you a better deal will come along. The most successful blogs are usually the most personal ones. People may read recycled garbage that you pulled from other sites, but they won’t remember you for it.
- Just because it’s free, doesn’t mean you have to enjoy it. Fly fishermen are creatures of habit, a fact that is reflected by our gear and the locations we frequent in search of fish. In three years I’ve had the opportunity to fish dozens of fly rods from many reputable brands. I am extremely grateful that these companies continue to allow me the chance to test their products, but that doesn’t mean they all get a sparkling review. Admittedly, a fly rod has to really make a first impression if I’m going to take it out more than a handful of times. The rod I purchased before Up’North was even a thought is still a frequent companion of mine on even my most demanding trips, an honor than only two high-end rods have earned in a span of three years. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the advantages of new technologies, I just enjoy casting something that feels familiar. If it doesn’t offer a significant advantage to me on the water, I probably won’t give it a second look.
- It’s perfectly acceptable to leave the camera home. Some days on the water I prefer to keep just for me, and that’s alright. I no longer stress about taking photos, or documenting the days events as soon as I get home. I do this because I love fly fishing, but I refuse to let a constant need to “capture the moment” ruin my experience. Personally, it’s the moments that I can’t explain through words or photos that allow me to love what I do. No amount of promotional products or free gear will ever dictate what you see on Up’North. It’s all about being on the water, documenting what you feel is worth documenting, and simply enjoying life at your own pace.
- Just because it’s been done, doesn’t mean you can’t do it again. True, people have written about their experiences on the water or photographed their dog on the hunt, but sometimes a different perspective can be refreshing. Outings in Montana are different from outings in Maine, and the Summer sunset in Aroostook Country casts a far different shadow than the one in Bozeman. It’s not always about finding something new, sometimes it’s about looking at something familiar in a not so familiar way. Change angles, change perspectives, and people will genuinely appreciate your creativity.
- Take a break. You can’t force creativity, sometimes you just need to sit back and let it come to you. Some of the best authors in the world spend many years on a single novel, and some of the best photographers take thousands of pictures to capture that one perfect shot. If you aren’t happy with your work, how can you expect that from others? A half-hearted piece of writing is like a half painted house. You get a glimpse of what it could be, but in the end it’s still an unfinished product.
- Read more, write more. Read anything and everything you can get your hands on. Read about fly fishing, read about hunting, read about time travel, read about law. Whatever your interests, reading is a great way to strengthen your vocabulary and develop your own style. Writing is a progressive art that will only improve with effort and persistence. I’m no Hemingway, but I do feel I’ve come a long way with my writing simply through reading and learning to appreciate the styles of other authors. Write often; notes, letters, stories, and poems. Create a word document and save any and every idea, phrase, or quote you think up or come across. Keep a notepad by the bed, in the car, and most importantly in your river gear. You are bound to remember the details of your day that stand out, but sometimes the underlying details are the ones that make the best stories. You will never truly appreciate this advice until you put it to practice, trust me.
- Don’t be selfish, pay it forward. Share your experiences and ability with fellow bloggers and outdoorsmen (or women). I was lost when I started Up’North, and if more experienced bloggers wouldn’t have come to my aid answering emails or phone calls for help, maineflycastings.com would be dead in the water. Share your thoughts often, offer constructive criticism, and take criticism from others willingly and with appreciation. I am forever in debt to those who weren’t afraid to hurt my feelings when suggesting changes or improvements to Up’North. In fact, many of those changes are what make my site so successful today.
- Don’t take yourself too seriously. Blogging about fly fishing is a lot like fly fishing in itself. Above all, the experience is supposed to be fun and rewarding. If it stops being fun, take a break and give yourself time to recover. Shit happens, and no one expects you to blog through the most testing trials and tribulations of every day life. I didn’t get into fly fishing because of blogging, I got into blogging because of fly fishing. I’m no professional, just a well-versed country boy who enjoys chasing fins and telling tall tales. I have no interest in living up to the expectations of others when it comes to fly fishing, and this blog is no different. Up’North gives me the freedom to express myself and share my views on fly fishing and all things related with the world. No work, all play. I enjoy what I do, and feel privileged that so many others seem to enjoy it too.
At the end of the day, Up’North is toast without its readers. Nothing makes me happier than meeting complete strangers on the river or in the street who happen to visit my blog regularly. Interactions like those are what keep me going, and I feed off the inspiration I gain from other anglers and bloggers. I’m not sure where Up’North will be a year from now, but I look forward to what it can potentially become. Thank you for coming along for the ride, it’s been a true blessing since day one. Look forward to big, big things in 2012. Settled down and focused on the task at hand (with summers off), I should have no problem logging 150+ solid days on the water this season.
The fly boxes are being filled and April is right around the corner; this will be my fly fishing comeback.
Here’s to another 3 years! Tight lines,
-Ben
Did I Mention…?
The Up’North fleet is growing by one this season. My father recently placed the final piece on his 22ft cedar strip canoe, and if all goes well we expect it to be river ready by May.
Tick, Tock.
Stay tuned for a timeline of the build, as well as some exciting news regarding Up’North’s upcoming 3rd birthday!
Cast the dust off! Spring is closer than you think!
-Ben
Last Light
And the show goes on…..
Five more shots to close out the “Sunny Daze” series. No fancy explanations, not hidden secrets, just photography. A few of these shots were taken as far back as 2002, and all but two were taken with a beat up 5MP point-and-shoot. Just goes to show you, big expensive cameras aren’t always what make good shots. More times than not, nature plays the most significant role in the process. I guess I’ve just been lucky enough to have a camera handy when the show starts.
Enjoy!
Sunny Daze
I love taking pictures. No particular rhyme or reason as to why, I just enjoy being behind the lens. For some people I guess taking pictures could be about showing off, and I can see that. Living in a beautiful place is nothing to be ashamed of, and even I have been known to snap the occasional “look where I live” photos when the opportunity presents itself. Photography is like fly fishing for me in that I am constantly learning and growing every time I’m in the field. Each outing I appreciate the process a little more, and every new photograph feels more polished and refined than the last.
Every photographer has a signature style or element that is readily apparent in all of their work. For me, that element has always been clouds. Adding clouds to any backdrop introduces a highly manipulative element that can give photos personality and depth. I live for partly sunny days when the cloud cover is sparse and well-defined, stretching endlessly across a deep blue sky in dancing streams of white and gray. But above all, I love shooting clouds during the final moments of daylight. The special relationship between cloud cover and the fading sun is one that I’ve grown to appreciate deeply in recent years. Sunset backgrounds cycle and disappear often, only allowing precious moments to get that prime shot. I feel blessed to live in a place where the sun always sets against a stunningly beautiful, natural background. I do my best to capture those pristine moments before they slip away, and over the years have managed to photograph more than my fair share of sunsets in what I regard as some of the most relaxing and remote locations in the world.
The photos below are some of my favorites, and the moments they were taken are moments I will never forget. Over the next few days Up’North will roll out 12 never before seen sunset photographs taken from 2009 to 2011. Some are completely natural, never altered or touched up in any way. Others have alterations in contrast, saturation, and exposure. I take great pride in these shots, and appreciate any and all reader comments or constructive criticism.
As always, thank you for visiting Up’North Maine Fly Castings. Check back soon for new updates, and be sure to check out the gallery for my complete collection of outdoor photographs and landscapes.
Tight Lines,
-Ben
“When I Grow Up”
….I want to be part of the research and development team for Loon Outdoors.
No seriously, whoever originally pitched this idea at the Loon product meeting should get an instant induction into the fly fishing hall of fame. Something so simple, so useful, so brilliantly perfect in every way. It’s like they followed the Up’North crew on a fishing trip, reviewed the footage, and designed a product based on what they felt would make our time on the water more enjoyable. The R&D for these nippers must have been priceless, how could it not be? They probably didn’t need to test them on the water, but who would pass up that opportunity? I’ve always been a fan of Loon products, but this addition tops them all. Extra wide thumb pads, hook-eye clearing needle, and…….a bottle opener. This nifty little tool is a long time coming in my neck of the woods.
- Click to purchase the Loon Outdoors “Nip N Sip” tool!
The people at Loon Outdoors undoubtedly realize that R&D doesn’t stop once your product reaches fly shop shelves. Constant testing in the harshest of environments is a necessary part of product development, and I for one would be more than willing to lend a hand in the process. What better place than northern Maine to put your gear through the necessary paces? No such place exists. Please note, I accept free samples for testing purposes. Just sayin’.
In all seriousness, this product is one of those little innovations that just seems to make sense. I commend the people at Loon Outdoors for bringing some refreshing (no pun intended) originality into the nipper department. This is sure to be a huge product for them in 2012, and is already creating a worthy buzz among industry insiders and average Joes alike. Just another “must have” tool to have handy when the Spring salmon run pops off (again, no pun intended) after ice-out.
Pray for hasty thaw!
-Ben
“Historic Routes”
For decades, rail and water were the only way to transport goods or travel in northern Maine. Winding along the Fish River, these tracks once shouldered the weight of passenger trains shuttling citizens to and from towns across Aroostook County. I can imagine my grandparents as children, their faces plastered to the windows of the moving cars, watching with excitement as log drives of the time bulldozed the banks with timber headed to area sawmills.
Time and technological advancements have changed the logging industry as well as the way we travel, in turn changing how we use area railways and rivers. The logs now travel a similar path, loaded onto the bunks of log carriers that have replaced passenger cars on Maine’s railways. These days, most wood travels by truck from Maine’s working forests directly to area mills. Rail service is scarce now, and rarely the cheapest or most time effective method of transporting lumber. Rivers play a far different role in the logging industry during modern times; typically avoided in order to protect the natural environments and the many plant and fish species that call them home. Log drives are a distant memory that very few can say they’ve seen firsthand, though signs from this historic operation can still be seen if you know where to look. Area fishermen spend more time on the water than loggers these days, casting bulky flies and lures to landlocked salmon and native brook trout that call the Fish River home. It’s no secret that my favorite river in the area is the Fish, and I can’t help but wonder what the fishing might have been like before log drives and the industrial boom of the early 20th century. I guess pictures like this one hold more history than initially meets the eye.
Happy Castings,
-Ben
Money Money Money
I don’t share a ton of secrets on here, so consider this a little Christmas gift from me to you. The streamer on the top is the latest rendition of my “money-maker,” a proven pattern I am continuously building on season after season. Trial and error have really done the trick for this streamer in recent years, and this version will be the end-all of this pattern. A peek is all you get, so analyze away. The colors are simple enough, but no less than 7 different materials form the tail (a little long here, chop by half), wing, and neck. Tie it weighted if you see fit, but I never felt the need. Trout seem to be first at the table for this meal, but salmon are always a welcome dinner guest.
The soft-hackle pattern is simply braided red/green 70-denier thread with a red neck and tail. It seemed like the obvious “just for fun” wet to tie on Christmas day, but I can see it working come mid-June. Tis the season!
-Ben
Changing Gears
Trust me, I’m working. The past few weeks have seen me plugging away at my laptop, trying to revamp a design that I’m not sure needed revamping to begin with. Up’North had grown sluggish, so much so that it became a hassle to post simple photos or write simple reviews. Ads made things sluggish, links failed to function, and traffic dumped due to less-than-lightning page loads. At the end of the day, I had grown tired of driving on four blown tires.
I can promise big changes for the new year, more so than what can be seen even today. To be honest, who knows if the recent changes will even stick. My goal in this transformation is to simplify the site, bringing a more rich and focused experience through writing and photography. Nothing is set in stone, but I do have some exciting ideas that I hope you’ll enjoy. For now, be patient and bare with me as I learn html, css, and how to remain calm when looking at large pages of letters and numbers. I never intended for this transformation to “simplicity” to be so complex, but I have faith that these changes will be for the better. In the meantime, I welcome your comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism.
Happy Holidays,
-Ben
Thanks, But no thanks.
-Howdy folks.
It’s been quiet the year, and this season has given me much to be thankful for that I didn’t have before. I found my way home, secured a teaching job back in northern Maine, and made some memories to last a lifetime both in the woods and on the water. 2011 didn’t find me fishing nearly as frequently, but the times I did get out were extremely successful. Luck played a big role (or the only role) in that success, but I have no problem pretending it was all raw determination and talent.
As Winter continues its devilish dance with the remaining guardians of Fall, fly fishing in northern Maine shifts gears as the season grows cold. Fly rods bow down to tying vises, reels and fly lines take a back-seat to streamer hooks, threads, and feathers. Tying is typically a relaxing way to burn a few hours (and a bottle of wine) and nothing is quiet as exciting as filling those badly depleted fly boxes for the upcoming season. Looking past the obvious benefits, sitting down at the vise also allows for abundant time to reflect on the dying year. With only one month left until we close the books on 2011, I can’t help but reflect on everything that I’ve enjoyed since November one year ago. What many people fail to realize is that joy doesn’t have to be one dimensional, and that hatred can actually bring an extremely satisfying sense of joy on many occasions. With that in mind, enjoy Up’North’s first EVER (oh yes) “Thanks, but no thanks” list. Call it what you want, but know that my opinion (while typically correct and of sane nature) is simply my opinion. You don’t have to like it (you should) or agree with me (again, you probably should) but at least by the end I’ve hopefully helped you think about what might bring you joy during this holiday season. Here. We. Go.
- Crocs — While comfortable and convenient, Crocs get a bad rap for a number of reasons, the most obvious being that they make anyone who wears them look like an idiot. Beyond being detrimental to your social life, studies show that Crocs are actually detrimental to your health and life-skills as well. Tripping becomes a frequent occurrence, and several people have reported actually losing the ability to tie their shoes or even fasten velcro.
- Easy Loops — Most fly lines come with a “quick loop” at the end to fasten a leader quickly and efficiently, but I’ve discovered that it actually hinders my fishing more than it helps. Some of my worst knots on the water have formed AT this convenient loop, and this season I finally did away with the loop altogether on all but my heaviest setups. Well-executed nail knots allow for clean, crisp presentations, and cause a minimal disturbance on the surface when picking up the line. Just snip it.
- Bemini Tippets — I hate them, very much. They knot, sometimes before they even touch the water. They don’t help me cast further, they don’t make changing tippets more convenient, and they cost 100% more than they are worth. No thanks.
- Decaf Coffee — You are an impostor. Stop tying to be something you clearly are not. You don’t even attempt to give me energy, just sitting there in the pot pretending to be your useful, delicious relative. You will never cure my headaches, you will never join me on early morning commutes, you will never enjoy morning fog on the river, or grace the dash of my pickup during hunting season. Just go away.
- Ethanol – You take up 10% of my gas, but I don’t recall inviting you to my tank. You play crude jokes on my motors, cause more harm than good when it comes to the environment because of your lengthy manufacturing process, and fail to increase my gas milage regardless of what I put you in. You eat up government subsidies that would be better wasted elsewhere, the key term here being wasted. I like corn, but would gladly give it up if it meant I would never have to deal with you again.
- Honorable mentions — Pop tarts (you make me fat), whole wheat pasta (gross), cheap fly reels (you’re a drag), machine tied flies (with love from China), unpaid vacations (time is money), pants you have to iron (usually means I’m not fishing), candy corn (tastes like?), hummus (all flavors are equally gross), and flooding (rain isn’t always a good thing).
So there you have it, short, sweet, and on the money. Feel free to add your very own in the comments section below, and remember that joy is what you make it.
Happy Holidays, and all that jolly jazz.
-Ben
It’s Rollin’ Round the Bend
As I continue to organize and edit photos from my recent trip to the Big Eagle Trains, here are a few more shots from my journey back into the beginnings of northern Maine’s logging industry.
The Big Eagle to Umbazooksus railway operated two trains on 13 miles of tracks from 1927 to 1933. A awe-inspiring site to behold today, one can’t help but wonder how truly magnificent it must have been to see this operation in full working order. Most accounts say that the two cars would run around the clock, passing each-other on opposing lines as they shuttled wood between Big Eagle and Umbazooksus lake, where a large unloading trestle was constructed to offload the timber. To help make the daunting task of unloading less strenuous, the trestle was built with one rail raised a full six inches to actually tilt the car. Additionally, each twelve-cord capacity car was assembled with a 12-inch pitch at its base. Once offloaded, the logs began their long float towards the Penobscot River, where they would eventually arrive at Bangor area lumber mills.
Nearly 80 years later, walking along these once lively rails is a haunting experience. Each car, each switch, and nearly every piece of equipment sits idle, waiting for work that will never come again. Victims of industrialization and rapidly changing technologies, the cost to move these items out of the remote wilderness, including the two locomotives, proved too much. Rendered obsolete, the cars were backed into the yard one final time in 1933 where they remain today, linked up and ready roll. Nearly all of the 13 miles of tracks still exist today, though badly damaged and all but swallowed up by the aging forest. Massive hardwoods stand strong between the rails, their roots weaving between the ties. The extreme remote location allows for a level of preservation not possible in more accessible areas, safeguarding this unique and rare piece of history from treasure hunters and the pressures of population growth. Few places offer such a memorable experience, deep in the heart of a century-old working forest.
This switch is by far the most preserved on the line, only yards from where the two locomotives sit today. As the track winds through the dense forest, the iron rails become more difficult to make out under thick moss and fallen trees. Take it from me, few things are as haunting as stumbling across a set of railroad tracks in the remote wilderness.
When not in operation, the 60 rail cars were backed into this yard. While their largely wooden bodies have weathered away, they still sit perfectly upon the rails. Standing between the two lines, one can easily make out the seemingly endless line of dilapidated cars. By far my favorite view of the experience, pictures simply don't do this scene justice.
As the cars sit idle in their final resting place, massive trees stand proudly between the rails of this once busy line, a stern reminder of just how far back in time this living museum reaches.
Stay tuned, this journey is far from over.
-Ben
I Hear that Train a Comin’
Today I took a walk with my father and a few friends to take in some truly breathtaking history deep in the North Maine Woods. Along the famous Allagash Waterway, between Big Eagle and Chamberlain Lake, lies the remnants of a logging operation dating back as far as 1902. Two massive steam locomotives, over 40 rail cars, 13 miles of rail, and literally hundreds of additional artifacts from lombard haulers to a 3000 foot tramway, lay scattered over a massive area between the two lakes. A stunning glimpse into a time long forgotten, an entire operation that was capable of harvesting and transporting hundreds of chords of timber now sits dormant, swallowed by the remote wilderness.
I’ve been pouring through 300+ photos for the last four hours, and I still haven’t finished the organization and editing process. It amazes me that such a large piece of history can even exist at all, and my pictures honestly don’t do it justice. As I continue to pick and choose my favorite photos for a more in-depth feature to come later, here is a little sneak peak to hold you over. I really can’t stress how extremely remote this area is, the entire historical context of this place simply blew me away.
The remnants of a 3000 foot steam driven log tram that operated from 1903 to 1909. The tram system shuttled over 500,000 board feet of pulp per day between Eagle Lake and Chamberlain Lake. The logs were then floated through a chain of lakes until they reached the Penobscot River, where they began their long journey to Bangor Area sawmills.
These two locomotives hauled 40+ cars over more than 13 miles of track between 1927 and 1933. Hauled in by lombard log haulers from Quebec, they were assembled in the remote wilderness without the help of cranes. At their height they transported over 100,000 chords of pulp to Umbazooksus Lake. Ruled obsolete, they were backed in and parked in what used to be a maintenance shed for the final time during late 1933. The area has been abandoned since.
A single line split into two so the trains could pass each other as they shuttled logs back and forth during the 13 mile journey to Umbazooksus lake. Dormant since 1933, the forest has taken over and large timber now grows around, and in between the rails. Here is a shot looking down the tracks toward the final resting place of the two locomotives. Truly a sight to behold.
And there is plenty more where that come from! Stay tuned for a more complete photographic history lesson in the coming days!
-Ben
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