Had the opportunity to get back up to one of my favorite places to fish for the entire week prior to Columbus day. That place is Maine. Why is it a favorite? Well it has the highest concentration of Brook trout that are left in the United States. Being my favorite of the trout species one would think that is the reason I keep going back to Maine when I have time off. But that isn’t the case at all. Maine has also taught me some of my toughest lessons while fly fishing there. The kind that only mother nature and the fine fisherman that are from there can teach you. And those lessons are the primary reason I keep returning twice a year. They are the things that make me a better fisherman in the long run. This time out I finally got the chance to fish a water that has been on my list of must fish places for a while. Unfortunately in the past my trips up there pushed me to different water due to flow levels, weather or schedule conflicts. This time it was different though. Everything seemed perfect and the trip was on. Even the 2 1/2 hour drive was one of the most enjoyable and scenic rides to a fishing destination I have taken in the past. When I arrived at the river I just had to get out of the Jeep and take the whole thing in for a second or two. It was the type of scene fisherman dream of. The type I have dreamt that it would be. It almost seemed to perfect a place to exist. I quickly threw on my waders and rigged up. Minutes later I was in the water and casting to some of the best Brook Trout and Landlock Salmon Maine has to offer. It only took about 3 casts and I had a fish on. I immediately started stripping line in. This fish was pissed. And he made his point known by charging right into me. In a effort to try and get some tension on my line I started to back up. Big mistake. Next thing I know I’m in a twisting fall and put me knee right into a rock. I quickly jump up, waders filled and knee sore. But he was gone as quick as he was hooked. I took a step out of the river to regroup. Man my knee hurt. Not as much as my pride though. I’ve had fish charge in on me before but never like this one. My wife was up on shore photographing the area and wondering what the hell I was doing. After a quick description of the event that just took place and a “Be Careful!” from the wife, I was back in the run. This time a bit wiser. So I thought. On the second cast a huge salmon hits. Should have put a hook in my strike indicator. He hit it so hard I could feel his teeth digging into the indicator when the line was tense. Minutes later my friend Jeremy arrived. I was relieved to see him as I knew he would straighten me out and show me the ropes as he has in the past. I went on to tell him about the fish in that particular spot and that I took a swim the first 5 minutes I was there. He pretty much said that is the norm for there. As I figured I wasn’t fishing the right section as well. We proceeded down the road that follows the river and fished different sections. Each as beautiful as the last. The first section wasn’t holding fish so we moved to a different section where I got to meet MarshallD. It was apparent that Marshall is a very accomplished fisherman of these great Maine waterways. I watched from a distance as he landed one fish after another in a perfect holding spot. It was a site to see. Jeremy was soon into a nice fish as well. A few minutes after Jeremy caught his fish he says “come on I know the spot”. We moved at a quick pace down the banks of the river to a nice swift rippled section of water that was about thigh high. Jeremy was right in his comment regarding it being the place. He hooked one nice Landlock after another. Each performing their ariel manuevers as he fought them. I was having less luck and finding it difficult to get the correct drift. I was having a tough time with felt only soled shoes in that stretch so we moved back up near Marshall. The fish were there but I couldn’t get the job done. I generally never give up trying to catch fish. But my frustration told my I was done and to just come back and try it again from square one. Having my wife there was a convenient excuse to tell Jeremy that she was probably ready to go and that I was going to call it quits. He said “she don’t care dude, keep fishing!”. He was right. I got back to the Jeep and she said “what are you doing back already?”. After swallowing my pride I had to admit that river was kicking my butt and needed to call it a day. I was wet, sore and running low on flies. So I got out of my gear into the Jeep with the heat cranked and on my way back to where we were staying. The entire ride back I couldn’t get the place, the fish and my mistakes out of my mind. Before we were even a quarter of the way back I said “we are obsolutely coming back up this week”. So I dried out my waders, stocked up on flies and a couple of days later hit it again armed with a bit of knowledge. I recalled all the spots and methods that fishing with Jeremy and Marshall had taught me from the trip before. When we got to the river and rigged up we noticed the spot I had wanted to fish was shoulder to shoulder with fisherman. So we waited it out. Sure enough the guys fishing there decided to move out except for one. I told my wife “come on lets go”. So we moved into position. I was recalling where Marshall had stood and started fishing that run. I relayed the info to my wife telling her she didn’t have to wade out that far. The one other guy that was fishing was standing right on top of the fish in the run that they were feeding in just the other day. He wasn’t having any luck and decided to call it quits also. Finally I had the spot open and started casting and letting my nymph rig drift through the spot I saw Marshall and Jeremy hooking up in. Suddenly the indicator stops. Fish on. A good fighter. Staying right on the bottom also. I couldn’t tell whether it was a Brookie or a Salmon. Just as I get the fish close enough the line goes slack. So I try it again. Another fish on. Same story though. The line went slack. I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. Then I recalled Marshall and Jeremy would always walk the fish back towards the banks of the rivers edge. So I hooked into a very nice Landlock. This time backing up towards the bank. But carefully. I didn’t want a repeat swim like last time. I could see this one good. He kept trying to head for the rocky area where I lost the two others. So I was figuring they must be hugging the bottom and prying the hook out on the rocks. So I apply some side pressure to move the fish upstream and away from the rocks. It worked. Just as I had the Landlock near my feet with net in hand he jumped literally over my head and spit the hook. I just had to step back and give these fish the respect they deserved. My wife and the folks in the drift boat had witnessed all these hookups. I just shrugged my shoulders and went back to work. Finally landed something also. A little agressive Landlock parr that took the large copper john I was using to get the smaller nymph down with. After releasing him I hooked another good fish. I started walking back to the bank like last time. I get the fish close and notice it is a Brookie. My favorite. After all the lessons that had been taught I finally landed my first good fish of this great waterway. I felt relieved and more confident and let out a “Finally!” when she was in the net. After a quick pic I released her to let her proceed on her path to their spawning grounds. It wasn’t a large fish for the river. About 13″. But it gave me a feeling of accomplishment that I had yet to experience on these waters. The fish seemed to take a break from feeding and more fisherman were moving into the run. I decided to call it a day and leave on a high note. The entire way back thinking about nothing except my next trip back. This time even a little more smarter. For that thanks to Jeremy, MarshallD and mother nature. Couldn’t have happened without you.