March has been a dry month, which reminds me that I have to get a well drilled this spring.

Actually, the operative term might be discovered - not drilled - because I do not want to pay for an expensive project.

For the initial two years, my camp has not had a source of water.

The river would be a logical source, but it is 500 yards away.

The local farm store is nearby but the largest receptacle that one can carry off comfortably is one of about five gallons.

I should say that the farm store has been a wonderful source, though it appears that it is obligated to keep its spigot open to the public.

According to an aging sign on the side of the store, local engineers in the mid-’30s were blasting on the location that now hosts the store.

There was an unexpected detonation, however, and the excavation collapsed.
It filled with water - clear, cool drinking water.

Over the years this natural resource was captured via the spigot, and many residents, farm hands, Sugarloaf-bound tourists and others take freely from the tap.

As do I.

But as spring approaches, Your Scribe feels the need of a pump on his own land.

One would think water can be found without a major excavation.

The river is nearby.

And the land is located in the Belgrade Lakes region, a part of the state that by definition possesses great amounts of the wet stuff.

Yet I want it at a reasonable price.

Last year I got an estimate from a professional well-drilling company for $7,000.
That is too much.

Plus, I am not looking for winter water.

I just want a supply for cooking, bathing, fire prevention etc. during the spring, summer and fall.

Several good ‘ol boys who loiter about the farm store say that a dowser can help me find water for small money.

I plan to look into that in coming weeks . . . though I always will be a loyal supporter of that faucet at the farm store.

Fishing is big at my camp.

Not big in the sense of fish that are brought in. But big in the sense that it is my ongoing obsession to catch some decent fish.

The cabin is on the Sandy River, a 69-mile-long tributary in Franklin County. (It eventually flows into the Kennebec).

Our land includes about 300 feet of shoreline.

In the early days, we would fish from the bank and wouldn’t catch anything.

In the past couple years, we’ve pulled in sunfish, yellow perch and a white, tasteless fish that looks like a sucker.

No trout.

And for me, a diminishing amount of fun.

Your Scribe has finally figured out the problem: the water in which we are fishing is not a likely place for brook or brown trout.

It is deep (over 10 feet), and slow moving.

However, there is shallow, fast-moving water about 400 yards downstream.

I haven’t ignored it. Last summer I paddled with my son, Drew, to that area.

But we both leaned over the canoe at the same time, and you know the rest – we went into the water.

So this spring I will head for the fast water, cautiously, and hope to get some trout.

If news reports are to be believed, there are many trout somewhere in the Sandy.

Each year state biologists report stocking the river with between 4,000 and 6,000 young trout.

These fish have got to be somewhere, and this spring Your Scribe is heading toward the fast water to pull in lunkers.

I use night crawlers, and sometimes small plugs.

I have not graduated to flies.

If I start catching real fish, I might switch to the tougher sport of fly-fishing.

But I haven’t reached that point yet.

I have yet to catch as much as one trout in the Sandy.

Until that happens, the weapon of choice will continue to be a spinning rod with a dozen fat worms as inducement.

Ice-fishing is ceasing in central Maine

Fishing season is upon us, and for some areas it is proving to be a tough transition from ice-fishing to open water.

Your Scribe makes this statement based on a drive past Long Pond in Belgrade in mid-March.

In the middle of the lake stood a forlorn fishing shack.

It stood alone perhaps because ice-out had come to the shore.

In fact, the sector in front of the Village Inn in Belgrade Lakes Village showed at least 100 feet of open water before the (thin) ice started.

So anyone wanting to pull their shack form the lake must have been facing a tough proposition.

Quick questions, to which I don’t know the answers:

Would a fishing shack float, buoyant like a cork so it could be pulled in by a boat when the entire lake melts?.

Or would it go down like a gear-laiden Titanic, and join the decades of detritus left by generations of earnest anglers?

Here are my thoughts on ice-fishing, a staple in Cabin Country where my camp is:

Ice-fishing is a drain on the state’s fishing stocks.

Though overfishing in winter is not documented as a reason why there aren’t as many lunkers in summer as there were in “the good old days,” the pressure of year-round angling must make a difference.

Secondly, vehicles on the ice that sometimes visit the shacks is one of the dumbest traditions we have in Maine.

This wasn’t much of a winter for taking the clunker for a spin on the ice, but in the past many thrill seekers – some say inebriated thrill seekers – are wont to take their cars and trucks on the ice.

This is stupid, dangerous and just generally lame.

It reminds me of a story I covered while a newsman in Waterville in the early ‘90s.

On Messalonskee Lake, I believe, a young couple and their child went for a ride before dinner. Their vehicle crashed through the ice, and sank.

The next day, a pair of neighbors checked their house. The trio was missing, of course.

This pair got into a small truck, and went out on the lake in search. That vehicle, too, went through the ice.

Five lives were lost in all.

Which isn’t to say that those who own that fishing shack on Long Pond are going to do anything stupid.

But Your Scribe hopes the shack floats, and that it can be pulled out by a good old-fashioned powerboat as soon as all the ice is out.

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Making plans to thin out forest

My days as a tree hugger are over.
Since starting to develop a camp several years ago, I have avoided removing any trees.
I thought that be preserving them, I was doing the right thing.
But last spring a tree specialist from the state came out to the property.
He said that that if you don't thin out the aging trees, the younger growth cannot prosper.
The helpful mentor, Bob Leso, pointed at several conifer trees that were clearly dying.
They weren't diseased.
They were just being deprived of their share of resources because the forest was now so thick.
His observation might have gone past me, except that several of the 50-foot trees were within crash distance from the cabin.
If those dottering pines and spruces were pushed hard by the wind, they likely would ruin by beloved retreat.
So trees that were near the structure were taken down by ace woodsman Bob Daggett.
And now I am planning on which trees to take down this spring.
State officials say that I have a rich variety.
The acreage hasn't been thinned for at least 50 years, so many stand tall and straight.
There are birch, cedar, hemlock, maple (red and sugar), oak (red and white) pine, spruce and poplar.
One reason to take wood this spring is because, as indicated above, new growth will not begin without access to sunlight and water.
Another reason is that the price of timber, especially firewood, is increasing.
Trees taken down in spring could be ready for sale by late fall.
Anecdotal evidence suggests it is selling at more than $200 per cord in Maine, and close to $300 per cord in Massachusetts.
So this spring will be a time of choosing trees to cut.
At one time, this prospect would have been offensive.
But in order to foster a healthy forest, cutting has to be done.

This is a blog about building a cabin in Maine. And inhabiting it.
It is also about the robust country in this state that is home to cabins, camps and all sorts of retreats.
My hope is that people who like cabins, camping and/or the outdoor life will read regularly.
Years ago, I bought land in central Maine. Several years ago I started to develop a cabin there, and this is the ongoing story.
It has been among the most rewarding experiences of my life, and I will be sharing that with you.
My focus here will on the activities of camp life – canoeing, fishing and swimming.
It will also reflect on other pursuits at camp, which include planting bushes, cutting up firewood, cooking on the grill – and planning further projects.
And we will write about other activities in the country, including traveling the back roads and meeting the people.
It’s not brain surgery.
And that is the point.
The cabin life in Maine is a retreat from the “real world,” and thus a great place to be.
I will also discuss the process of actually acquiring a camp yourself.
This site will demonstrate that buying a parcel is possible, and developing a modest structure is cheaper than you might think.
I will be writing regularly.
If you have suggestions, please send them along.
My inspiration?
Maine itself.
Until next time . . .