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Ron and Dan's Excellent Adventure
 The alarm rang at 4:00am -- time to get the show started. The
destination: Chamberlain Lake, in the Allagash region of Maine's North
Woods. First stop, Greenville. There I'm meeting MDIFW regional
fisheries biologist Tim Obrey and his fishery specialist Steve Seeback.
Tim and Steve are heading up a very interesting project that FFIM has
helped to support through
the proceeds of our Spring Conclave.
By 9:30am we were pulling into our destination. The Warden Service
Cabin on Chamberlain Lake. This will be homebase for the next two
days. When FFIM decided to donate funds from our annual event to the
Chamberlain Lake study, Tim and Steve invited us up to participate in
the study, to see what it is all about. They even agreed to let FFIM
auction off a "Be a Biologist for a Day" trip to one of our members.
Ron Rothenberger, who goes by the Internet handle "1weight", was the
high-bidder. Unfortunately, Ron wasn't able to get away from work
until Friday morning, so we'd have to get started without him.
 | Tim and Steve tending the nets
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We quickly got out on the lake, checked the first net, and found a number
of fish. There were a bunch of bullhead and fallfish, also togue and a
few brook trout. The main sport-fish in the lake are brook trout, lake
trout, and lake
whitefish. Also of interest in particular to ice-anglers are a
healthy population of cusk.
The brook trout we found in this spot, one of which was a 17-inch
2-pound female, did not contain any surgery prospects. Only mature
male trout are being radio-tagged in this study. The purpose of this
is to not negatively affect any females who might be full with eggs,
possibly damaging them. All the trout however, regardless of sex, are
measured, weighed and scale samples are taken back to the lab so that
the age can be identified.
We continued to check several other nets, but we found no mature male
trout on Thursday, so were unable to perform any new implants. In the
previous two weeks however, 16 trout had been tagged, from various spots
on the lake.
Right on schedule at 2:00pm, Chief Warden Pilot Charlie Later flew in with
one of the departments 3 float planes to take us up for a tracking flight
above
the lake. I'd never been on a plane smaller than 100 seats before, so
was a little nervous however any nervousness was overcome by the
excitement
of being able to get a birds eye view of the lake and surrounding
area.
 | Telemetry antenna taped to plane
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We took off, and settled at a cruising altitude of 150 feet above
the lake. Banking and turning along the shorelines, Charlie covered
as much water as possible, while Tim listened intently for any signs
of a fish. We flew for about 45 minutes, covering Allagash Lake, along
with
connected bodies of water like Telos Lake, Round Pond, Allagash Stream
and Ellis Brook.
Tim found 7 of the 16 previously tagged fish. One had even traveled out
of Chamberlain and into Round Pond.
On Friday morning, Tim and I headed down to meet Ron, and we all piled
onto the bench front seat of the state pick-up and headed back north.
Soon after that we were headed back out onto the water. We were all
hoping for
better luck in finding surgery patients. We pulled up to the
first net to see what was waiting for us.
Ron filled the holding tubs with water while Tim and Steve pulled the
net up from the lake. There are two tubs, one for fresh water, and
one for the anesthetic mixture. Ron used a dip net to retrieve the
fish from the trap and transplant them to the freshwater holding tank.
Bull heads, trout, smelt, whitefish, cusks. All kinds of fish, the
most we had seen yet. As Tim began to weed through the fish, throwing
non-target's overboard, he found a nice 17-inch male brook trout. Our
first patient!
 | Radio tag being implanted
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The targets were placed into the anesthetic mixture to be put under.
The mixture is a simple combination of clove oil and isopropyl alcohol
added to fresh lake water. After a few minutes, a little longer for
the larger fish, the patient is sedated enough and ready for surgery.
Putting the fish under protects the fish from getting too stressed by
flopping around while it is out of the water. While under the
influence of the clove oil, the fish will lay calmly on the operating
table awaiting its implant.
Ron got to play an anesthesiologist of sorts, by holding a tube
running water through the fishes mouth and gills while it was out of
water and on the operating table. The surgery is quick and simple.
Steve made an incision about an inch long on the underside of the
fish's abdomen. He then threads a needle that is attached to the end
of an antenna through the incision and back out the flesh a couple
inches away from the incision. At the other end of the antenna is
the transmitter. It is about the size of the your pointer finger from
the last knuckle down. The transmitter is neatly tucked under the
fishes flesh, inside the body cavity. A couple of quick stitches and
the wound is closed back up. Good as new. Once the surgery is
complete, the fish are placed back into the freshwater to revive
before being sent back home.
 | Dr. Ron, Fish Anesthesiologist
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Much continued work will be done this fall and
winter to study the movements of these fish. They will analyze all
this collected data and report out on their findings, including the
possibility of proposed regulations to protect the fish in areas of
vulnerability. Steve promised to send me some findings in a report to
be published here on FFIM in the coming months.
By mid-afternoon we were pretty spent, and headed back to the cabin,
to pack up gear and head out. Tim and Steve would be heading back to
Greenville. For Ron and myself however, the adventure was still
young. We had the rest of the evening ahead of us to fish, setup camp
somewhere south along the Telos Rd, and a full day of epic fishing
planned for Saturday.
On Saturday, Ron and I had the pleasure of fishing with a fine
adventurer/guide by the name of Brian Foley. You surely know him from his
legendary status here on
FFIM. Well, let me assure you, he doesn't disappoint.
We drove for miles and miles down unmarked roads, stirring up Moose
and rabbits and finally arrived at our destination. An non-descript
clearing, surrounded by trees. Hmm, where's the water I wondered. We
strung up our rods and donned our waders. Brian led us down an
unmarked trail twisting and turning through the woods. After about a
20 minute walk, I could now hear the churning of swift water running
on by. Another few minutes and we poked our heads out to the stream.
 | Brian and Ron, chatting over lunch
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For the next nearly 12 hours, we fished our butts off, wading
downstream for a couple miles, hitting every good-looking holding spot
along the way. The fishing started off a little slow. Ron picked one
up right in the first few casts, but they weren't coming as quickly as
our guide had expected. I think this slow start really made the rest
of the day even more special, as once we turned the first bend
downstream, and got further and further into the back woods of this
magnificent water, the fishing turned right on.
As the day drew to a close, we fished the last few
pools together. Brian came over to me and said "I highly recommend
you cross here to the other bank, and fish down to that deadfall on
river left. There is a drop off in front of it, and usually a nice
fish is hanging out there." So I did. As I waded down to the front
of the deadfall, I took a few casts in front of it, nothing. I looked
over to the back side and saw a deep, dark, narrow pocket of water
between the log and the river bank, forming a small calm pool. I
tossed my bugger over the log and into the pool. Nearly as
instantaneously as that fly hit the water, the water thrashed and I
had a nice healthy trout on my fly. Always trust your guide.
 | Maine's Crown Jewels
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Come Sunday morning, it was time for me to start to head back to the
"real" world. To me, being up in this neck of the woods at this time of
the year
fishing for the crown jewels of Maine (brookies of course!) is as
close to heaven as you can get here on earth. Before I headed home
though, I needed to do some reconnaissance. First light began on the
West Branch. I hiked through the
woods at dark, stumbling on stumps and running into branches.
I got to the water, and the morning light was just finding its way to
the air. Everything had that dark blue hue, the wind was calm, and the
air crisp and cool. I tied on a fly that Tim Obrey had given me on
Friday, an outrageous pink marabou creation he called the "Pimp My Ride".
Not long until I was into a couple of nice hard takes as I stripped the
fly feverishly in after casting 20 yards to so upstream into a calm tongue
between two currents. Wham! Missed him.
Whack! Missed another. I guess these West Branch fish dig pink
marabou!
I waded upstream to a tough spot along the rocks. Just a short cast
away was a little corner eddy tucked into a wall of rock. It was
maybe 8 feet in diameter. A made a cast right to the center, and
began to strip. Short quick strips, violent strips. All of a sudden
a monster came from out of the shadows. Wham! And like that, my
tippet snapped. That damn fish hit so hard he snapped my tippet!
Man, no more "pimp"...now I'm in trouble. I tied on fly after fly,
but nothing else seemed to interest the fish.
 | One last fish
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It was now 9:30am. Time to pack up camp. On the way out I decided to hit
a stream that Brian Foley had turned me on to. It wasn't far away, and if
the water was high enough, it just might be holding some salmon that had
come in from the
lake. It was certainly worth a shot, and I always enjoy prospecting
new water.
I waded in and began my downward journey toward the lake, looking for
possible holding areas along the way. The water wasn't terribly low,
nor high. An "OK" sign I thought. Maybe there is enough water to
hold a fish or two? I made a few casts into the
pool with an olive Wooly Bugger. Third cast. Whack, fish on. I had
him nearly to hand, a 14" or so salmon, when he was "easy released".
Another 15 or so casts with the bugger
brought up nothing. Determined to not go home from such a grand trip
on a "bad note", I tied on a big Montreal Whore. I cast into the
wash a half-dozen times. Nothing. Decided to move across the stream
and try from the other side. To do so, I had to wade back up 30
yards, and then cross, as the inlet channel was too deep. Once on the
other side, another half-dozen casts of so, and nothing. I made a large
bowing cast straight out into the current. Strip, strip, pause, strip --
Whammo! I nice 16" salmon hit
my fly. After a number of leaps and some spunky fight, I had her to
hand. I went back to the truck packed up, and headed home. What a
way to close the season.
Some parting thoughts:
For me personally, I really enjoyed the collaborative effort that has been
put forth in this project by the FFIM community and the MDIFW. I believe
that this is what it is all about, and what we need more of. That is,
anglers and the department working together on issues that are important
to all of us. I think it is really important to take the time to put
aside any differences and focus on what we can all agree on, and build the
relationships that will help us all be able to work more strongly
together, especially when it comes to issues that are not so black and
white. By building a strong relationship with one another, we earn each
other's respect, and I've learned that is a great place to start when you
want to get something done, and want to be genuinely listened to.
Also, I would be terribly remiss if I didn't thank Ron's wife Emily for
the incredible meals she cooked, packed and provided for us to have during
our excellent adventure. You rock!
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