Thin Ice

This is a wonerful time of year, where one can fall asleep with the pond wide open, only to awake and find the winter lock of ice in. Amazing!!! Then a slight dusting of snow covers the lake adding more beauty. Adults want to fish and trap, kids want to skate and play on the ice. I have always felt that through the various season special alert eduction should be provided in our schools to kids on the dangers and hazards of various seasons. Thin ice is the first, the thin ice and freezing water is not like spring bee's, poison ivy, wet rocks and glass on the beach. One crack and the adventure can turn to disaster. I would ask that each of you take a moment and educate the young about checking the pond ice out at this time of year. A common mistake is following the dog running across the ice with its weight spread out on four feet and weighing much less or attempting to "go" rescue the dog that went through the ice. Education is the key...knowing what to do in case one goes through and how to call for help are keys to winter safety.

Duck Again

After thirty some odd years of ice fishing Duck Lake, progessing from winter camping in trash bags to tents to the luxury of an ice shack I thought the old man finally had outgrown this lake and trip. But at young age of 68, Hayward or as most of you know him, PeeWee awoke a week ago with the strongest desire to retire for the winter to Duck once again.

As we hunted the ridges around Jellison Meadow I could tell his mind was elsewhere. As the turkey roasted, the skill saw was running, for five non stop days work has been underway on the "new shack". Complete once again with bunkbeds, portapotty, counter, LP gas light/heat, sink, counter, stove, radio and this time $400 custom sliding windows. In addition it looks like shelves, mirror, mini ref and storage...and all this packed into a 7x12 building.

The annual event involves moving the shack to the landing at Duck late in December, usually he wants to get going Christmas afternoon and never fail by the 28th he wants to at least get her into the cove on whatever ice there be.

Because of the lack of movement with the state to purchase an easement or right to the 32-00-0 access at Gassabiss Stream it is a long haul to Enfield and Nicatous, that or sled from Route 9 or ride an ATV. But if the snow flies, the ATV trail is now a sled trail, so no ATV. If you trust leaving your vehicle on the 32-00-0 and riding in, hope it doesn't snow while you are fishing or again your are locked until spring. The hike to Duck is now a chore, but those chores create memories for years to come, abeit a hard trip for kids who want to go fishing.

So as you wander in the true remote woods of Maine, those bounded by Route 9 to Route 6, come join us for a cup of coffee and good story swapping.

Memories - John Hammond

It was a typical cool November night, 26 degrees, crystal clear, star bright and still. Zach, "blue" and I were slowly working our waay down a frosty old woods road in search of a few raccoons. Watching a dog work in this fashion is part of the joy, her nose searching the air for scent when suddenly the tails starts moving, then her rear is twitching and the paws are needing my leg....within moments her brawling voice is openning and screaming, let me down I need to run....and off in bounding leaps she gone, almost running on her hind feet as she reaches for the stars and more scent. This was a scene for years gone by and last night. Another bluetick with the same name as one from over twenty years ago....and the memories came flooding back. My partner tonight was my son of thirteen years....but years ago it was one of the most dedicated houndsman and avid outdoors I knew...John Hammond and his Redbones....I would hammer my blue against those dam redbones anyday now or then, at least that was the way John and I bantered back and forth. John passed years ago from a rare skin disease, way too young. But to this day, I carry his memory and his picture with that dam redbone isn't far away. In those few short years John's tales could fill volumes, especially the day the dog followed the cat down in the ledges, then jumped out leaving the down far underground with no way out. John spent days feeding and sleeping with the dog until he could chisel a hole by hand in rock to get his beloved redbone free....I know my search tonight is guided by both hound and houndsman...