This fox was hanging around some last fall and disappeared for the winter. I finally replaced the game camera that was stolen last summer and put out some bait a few days ago. The fox was hanging around just outside of camera range and last night finally got curious enough to come in to the bait. He showed up at 1:30 and circled around until finally making a grab for the bait at about 4:30.
The cold air seeping in woke me with a start. I could feel it penetrating from every direction and I fumbled for the penlight and turned it on. The vapor from our breath clung tightly to the air as it rose slowly to freeze on the walls of the tent. Everything was covered in frost – the ceiling, the walls, my sleeping bag, and the hat I was wearing..the sides of my face….covered in white. I looked at my watch – 2:30 am – and reached for the small thermometer I had placed on the tent floor when I crawled into the sleeping bag – I had to look at it twice – it read 22 below 0 F. I leaned back on the makeshift pillow for a moment and listened to the stillness of the cold night occasionally broken with the loud snapping of trees in the cold air – often sounding like gunfire.
I was relaxing in front of a fire in the crispness of early morning when Crack! A sound like an explosion came from behind me in the woods. I scanned the trees and saw that a maple tree had “exploded”. The explosion caused a big crack in the tree about three feet high. When a winter wind stirs the frozen trees, they sometimes appear to burst vertically. When it was 40 degrees below zero at night, I lay awake and listened to the trees explode. That’s a true wilderness thermometer!
—Linda Runyon, The Essential Wild Food Survival Guide
I realized I had to pee….I cinched the mummy bag back over my head pulling it as tight as it could go so that only my nose was exposed to the cold and tried to go back to sleep. But it didn’t go away. I loosened the mummy bag and switched on the penlight again. Everything I touched melted the frost on it and cooled my skin. I thought about my boots out in the vestibule and cringed at the thought of putting those cold pieces of iron back on my feet to venture out to pee. Then I had a thought – I was sleeping next to the door of the tent – I could probably actually relieve myself without having to get out of my sleeping bag. It sounded like the perfect idea at the time and I reached out and unzipped the bottom of the tent door – inched my sleeping back over to it – unzipped the bag – and took a whizz right in the vestibule without having to get out in the cold air. The next morning was rather comical as the four of us rousted ourselves from the relative warmth to venture outside and crawling into the vestibule noticing the colored snow and calling out – wtf – who pissed in the vestibule? That morning we had a group member that had the beginnings of frostbite on his feet and each of us took turns putting his foot onto our chest to warm them up.
This was a trip with the boy scouts known as Okpik -Inuit for Snowy Owl and pronounced as (OOk’ pick). A High Adventure winter camping/survival weekend that at the time (1980’s) was in Howland Maine. We had backpacks and sleds with our gear and skied into the woods about a mile or so and made camp…learning cold weather survival skills along the way. One of the things that sticks out in my mind is heating the water we would drink for the day and then wearing it around our necks under our clothing so that it warms the chest..and learning to layer properly so that the perspiration from the days exertion wouldn’t freeze you later.
I remembered this story this morning at 3:40 am. We’re in the middle of a pretty good cold snap here in Maine along with some pretty decent wind and this morning I felt that same sort of gentle brush of cold across my face that I felt all those years ago in that cold tent. As I get older I feel the cold more - I can
feel it enveloping and reaching out with it’s icy fingers. And I remembered that on the two trips we took to OKPIK my Dad was there too. On our second trip he experimented with digging a trench in the snow, lining it with a space blanket or similar, and sleeping in the trench with your sleeping bag with the theory that the surrounding snow would help to insulate you during the night. However, he did this within the drip edge of a big spruce – a spruce that had a lot of snow on it from recent snowfall. During the night the wind picked up a bit and the snow would slide off the spruce branches and onto him with an audible thump. I was probably 14 or 15 on those trips which would have made Dad about 55 at the time. I’m soon to be 45 and I would have to think long and very very hard before every going winter camping again – especially in those kinds of temperatures. Dad’s pretty tough in my book. If you’re reading this and you remember where in Howland the Adventure Base was please let me know – I’d love to go for a little walk up there after all these years.
Woke up this morning to find an immature bald eagle feeding in the backyard. I can’t believe it let me get as close as I did – I was starting to wonder if it was going to fly or defend.
My friend Peter shot a deer a couple of miles in the woods and with light fading fast three of us head in to get it out. The light could have been better for filming but you get the idea. It was a great night to be in the woods with temps in the high twenties, no wind, and a sky full of bright stars..carrying on a rich tradition.
One of my favorite beaver flowages to trap was first found on a satellite map. It’s a two mile ride on a bicycle followed by a 1 mile walk through the woods to get there, and it takes about two hours to get in and out with gear. I enjoy the time spent in the woods and noticing all the subtle changes that occur from year to year as I make the annual trips in there. Free from competition from other trappers I can manage the flowage by only taking a couple of beavers and ensure that each year the area will have beaver to harvest. The flowage has produced some really big beavers over the years and should continue too as long as the aspen keeps growing…a true backwoods beaver.
Another backwoods flowage;
Here’s an example of the work involved once you get the beaver out of the woods;
The cool air hit my face and blew through my sweater as I took the bike off the back of the truck and started the long trek into the woods. With two weeks off of work I was running a trapline on a large tract of gated land near my house. The landowner allows access for recreational pursuits and I like getting away from any potential competition so I was looking at a 6 mile round trip, often times done with a very heavy load. My friend Peter this year suggested I try using a baby carrier towed behind the bike to help take the load off my back and it has worked out well despite probably looking a little funny. That was my thought at least this morning when I saw a truck come around the corner ahead of me – he’s seeing someone on a bike wearing hip boots and towing a baby carrier out in the middle of nowhere, and for me I wondering who he is since he obviously has a key to the gate. As is customary on a Maine woods road during the deer hunting season we stopped to talk it over and I was reminded about why I love Maine. Our conversation went like this;
Hows that rig working out for you?
Fine
See anything?
No – fresh crossing just up the way though, but I’m not hunting – I’m trapping.
What are you trapping?
Beaver – just caught two up there where the road is washed out -might still be one more in there. Want to see them? One of them is huge…beaver in a baby carriage (laughing)
Sure!! (hops out of truck)
That’s awesome! Good for you coming out here getting some exercise – I’m the forester for this area and I’ve had to replace that culvert three times over the past few years – that’s awesome you’re in there catching them. You know, the landowner has this really funny rule about not allowing bicycles in here…
really? I had no idea – I thought everyone was bike friendly -
It’s fine, not something I agree with (pulls out a map) let me show you on here where there is some other beaver….
I believe that’s how things are supposed to work – In an increasingly black and white world we need more gray. I love that most people from Maine get that and embrace it. You can check out more stories like this in The Two Maines and PO Box 311.
With the price of oil high and at this time still going up many people are looking for alternative ways to heat their home. Having recently purchased a home that used of all things kerosene (4.99 a gallon at this time) I wanted to find something that was less expensive to run. Here in Maine I have always been a fan of wood heat as I can always seem to find wood for the cost of my labor and gas, and nothing seems to warm like wood does especially after you’ve been outside a while on a cold winter day. However with several friends that have and love their pellet stove I decided I’d do some research and keep an open mind. I looked at all the name brands and read their reviews, watched youtube videos, and after lots of research decided on a heatilator eco choice ps35. It was a basic no frills pellet stove and purportedly has Quadrafire parts in them which I liked as Quadrafire is one of the popular brand names. The price as compared to other models was a little more reasonable too at around 1800 bucks. On their website they had a dealer in my area that I called and they had no idea what I was talking about. So, I took that as a sign for the moment and went back to research and during that time I discovered hearth dot com. As I looked around the site I discovered that a lot of people on there had some good things to say about Englander stoves. I had pretty much dismissed Englander as they are in the big box stores and a lot of the reviews are mixed and or outright bad on the websites of those stores with respect to Englander stoves. I researched the different models using hearth dot com and discovered something else – a place called am fm energy. They refurbish Englander stoves and sell them at a discounted price. They are also members of the hearth dot com forum to answer questions and offer advice. After lots of research I decided on the Englander 10 cpm and ordered one through am fm energy for over 1000 bucks off big box retail. It came with free shipping ( I paid the extra 50$ to have it delivered to my door) , the original manufacturers warranty, and a free outside air kit (OAK). Note that Timber Ridge, Summers Heat, and Englander are all made by Englander and are the same products with different names. I chose the 10 cpm for several reasons. First – it is a multi fuel stove and burns cherry pits and corn as well as pellets. Although I don’t have plans to burn anything other than pellets, the auger in a multi fuel stove is a lot more forgiving to off size pellets, and according to others that own them will burn any pellet well. Second – it’s big – with a 2500 square foot rating – Maine winters can get pretty cold some nights and I want that extra heat. Finally, it’s a self igniter and thermostat capable – not only will a thermostat turn it on/off it also has a high/low setting to save the igniter – stove turns up to meet the demand for heat and runs on its lowest setting when that demand has been met. It also has a large ash pan which I liked.
I built a hearth pad to the required specs and my wife and I using ramps and a dolly were easily able to get the nearly 400 pound stove into the house and onto the hearth pad. I got my pellet vent from Amazon for a reasonable price and the instructions with the stove and the vent kit were easily followed and despite being nervous about cutting a 9 1/2 inch square hole through the house everything went fine, and the stove meets and exceeds my expectations. Englander has a detailed owners manual and CD that come with the stove that tell you everything you need to know.
If you’re considering Englander as a pellet stove you must meet a basic premise/requirement in my opinion, which is you need to be a self reliant do it yourselfer. Englander has great customer service and their stoves are built with the expectation that you’re not going to be afraid to replace parts if you need to, or not be inclined to keep up with maintenance. The instructions are all there for you to follow. A lot of the bad reviews I’ve read are from a person that didn’t read everything or had the expectation that if a problem occurred that someone was going to show up at their door to save the day. I’ve also read reviews (and was worried about) excessive noise from the blowers/air intakes but I don’t find it excessive at all on the 10 cpm – it’s really no louder than a refrigerator running. If you meet those expectations than Englander may be the right choice for you. So far I’m happy with mine.
Here’s a short video of post-installation;
360 degree view – click and scroll side to side;
With fall quickly approaching we wanted to take a quick getaway before it was too late. After a very busy summer we decided that a camp on a lake was what we needed. We did a few searches and came up with some ideas and narrowed it down to the somewhere on the Moose River in Jackman with plans of climbing Kineo on Moosehead Lake and paddling some of the Moose river.
Recently we got a dog that did not have the best past and we’ve been working with him to give him the good life he deserves and he’s been doing fantastic. We had plans to board him for the couple of days we’d be gone but we were ambivalent about doing it. Then we talked with someone who had a bad experience where we were planning to take him and that sealed the deal – we were going to have to scale back our plans and the dog was coming along on vacation. I’ve done my fair share of canoeing and camping in Jackman, but I had never heard of The Last Resort, which you can check out here and that’s the place we decided on. You can also find them on facebook here. As far as a remote Maine camp on a lake goes this place is idyllic. The cabins are on Long Pond and spaced well with good vegetation buffers so you barely know there are people next to you. There are lots of trails to explore, canoes/kayaks to rent, and the log cabins are very nice with porches overlooking the water. If you’re looking for the log cabin on a lake Maine remote vacation this is the place, and we’ll be returning at some point in the future.
While randomly passing by somewhere today I smelled my Gramp’s old garage and a wave of nostalgia washed over me. I’m not sure how one would even describe it to someone and come close to getting it right. How do you describe a combination of fresh air, cigarette smoke, firewood, gunpowder, whiskey,chain saws, deer meat, gardening tools, work boots, and wood smoke combined and steeped in lots and lots of time. I’ve read that smell can be a strong trigger for memory, and I instantly remembered poring over old pictures, listening to stories, shooting guns, looking for deer, fishing…but most of all I remembered wanting to be here…in Maine. Exploring whats around the next bend in the river or the next rise of the trail. Jumping at the explosion of the flushing grouse. Throwing out a lure and seeing the line instantly tighten with a fish.
Centerfolds from Playboy magazine hung on the walls as did the names and dates of his friends who had passed. In those days in Maine drinking during the day was an accepted practice, and the estate caretakers and gardeners would often congregate at Gramps garage for a drink at 9 am which was morning break. I would sit with them, a child some 60 years their junior and listen to all their stories, taking everything in. Ted Donnell, Clyde Carter, David Hyde, Tony Hamor, Elmer Green, Hap Haskell, Waldo Damon, Donald Bryant, Ralph Young, and Hughie Wright were part of the crew that would visit his garage. As I sit here today I can still hear and see them in my mind. Before 9 am Gramp would say he was having “apple juice” but after 9 he would call it a snort. You can read more about Gramp here.
I’m not religious but I always had a deep respect for how our town’s minister handled funerals. When Gramp died he took the time to grieve with us and learn some of Gramps stories and special quirks. The minister knew of Gramps garage, and after the funeral quietly handed my mother a piece of paper with a quote from Frederick Buechner.
Only God is Holy, just as only people are human. God’s holiness is God’s Godness. To speak anything else as holy is to say that it has something of God’s mark upon it. Times, places, things, and people can all be holy, and when they are, they are usually not hard to recognize.
One holy place I know is a workshop attached to a barn. There is a wood-burning stove in it made out of an oil-drum. There is a workbench, dark and dented, with shallow, crammed drawers behind one of which a cat lives. There is a girlie calendar on the wall, plus various lengths of chain and rope, shovels and rakes of different sizes and shapes, some worn-out jackets and caps on pegs, an electric clock that doesn’t keep time. On the workbench are two small plug-in radios both of which have serious things wrong with them. There are several metal boxes full of wrenches and a bench saw. There are a couple of chairs with rungs missing. The place smells mainly of engine oil and smoke–both of wood smoke and pipe smoke. The windows are small, even on bright days what light there is comes through mainly in window-sized patches on the floor.
I have no idea why this place is holy, but you can tell it is the moment you set foot in it if you have an eye for that kind of thing. For reasons known only to God, it is one place God uses for sending God’s love through.
Frederick Buechner’s Beyond Words, p. 156
