Gone (Fly) Fishing

Flyfishing, who would have thought that I’d ever have a blog entry about flyfishing, let alone that it would be my last one about my summer in Maine, and yet here I am, actually sitting in the airport, ready to head back home, writing about fish.

But I’ll paint some sort of picture so that at least the experience of flyfishing makes sense, if not how it wraps up my whole summer.

Before my semester was over, I spoke to my religion professor. We had a long, meandering conversation in his book-stuffed office and one of his “assignments” for me this summer was to read “The River Why.” It is a fly-fishing novel/coming-of-age story, and, though I was not necessarily instructed to take up fly-fishing, the establishment of this fishing form was at least a seedling in my psyche.

Now, about a 10 minute hike/walk down from the farm is the Kennebec River. It is a gorgeous mid-Maine river that has a medium size island in the middle of it where the Lupine Farm Trail opens out into the river bank, and the water level has been quite low this summer, low enough to walk out to the island on dry land some days and for Bill to guess that the deepest channel of the river is no more than 17-feet deep.



Speaking of Bill, he is key to this whole thing. You see, I came up here to see it was like to work on a farm, and it was Bill who taught me everything.

Whether it was throwing around hay,
driving the tractor,
or fixing up the barn doors

Bill showed me the ropes. And when I had one of the biggest highs (fly-fishing) of my last days in Maine, it was Bill who was the one who showed me.

Picture of bill’s cast versus my first one.

note how his is smooth and mine looks awful.

But as I was standing there thigh deep in the warm water, thinking of flicking my wrist between 11 and 1 (o’clock) I realized that I was simply experiencing the most basic form of my whole summer. Flyfishing is a very active participation in a rhythm, in this case casting for fish, and my whole summer had been the process of me settling into farm life, figuring out what went out with the line as I moved it back and forth, and what sort of practice was needed to make everything smooth. And you know what? I think I found it. It took awhile, and I didn’t always feel helpful, and it was frustrating to be bumbling at times, but I knew that it was an age-old rhythm with my own particular touch: a little wild at times, and with some neglect, but always done with a big goofy grin on my face.

So this was the project of much of my summer,
discover the rhythm, and when I did it was beautiful and each day seemed to just add to the next.

But I must say that while each regular day was good, the special ones really stood out.
whether it was sitting at the views of Acadia national park,


playing around with my cousins

running or having fun at the beach

(all of these being suggestion of Emily’s or things planned by her to enrich my summer)

it was simply a huge gift. They were surprise moments of an experience already wonderful in itself but suddenly made that much brighter and more memorable by perfect moments.

So when I saw a swirl in the eddy and cast out my line, I found my summer in a nutshell. The rhythm itself had become the gift, and anything I caught was an overwhelming blessing.
So in that moment of realization of my last gift, I couldn’t believe my luck, because, with plenty of yelping and yeehowing, I caught and landed a small mouth bass as the culmination of and celebration of my time on the Kennebec and my summer in Maine.

Thanks for the memories, thanks for the friendships, I’ll be back soon, but in the mean time, as a good Arkansan must say,

Gone Fishin’

What I've learned, What been new Part II

So I had a list of all the new things that I'd done through the first half of the summer. Here is my list of the things I'd done through the second half.

1. Been in a parade- on the fourth of July, I was on a float in the photo are both the float and the creator. I was a lifeguard and I stood on the back of the Water Theme golf cart and had "LifeGaurd" written in marker on my chest.

2. Wore a designer swimsuit- actually it was my first designer anything, but after I lost my bathing suit, I was given one of Alex's to wear around. I felt pretty J-crewish.

3. Burned my clothes- damn fourth of july sparklers.

4. Started a charcoal grill!!!- ok, so I know it's pretty easy but that is so huge for me.

5. Jumped off a bridge- I jumped off the 15 foot bride, but the 25 foot cliff the day before was much more intense.

6. Flipped off a bridge- Don't ever do that. That was a month ago, and my neck still hurts. Seriously, it was awful.

7. Poured a cup of coffee- yeah, that's right. I don't drink coffee and if I ever had some, it was already in a cup. I had to pour it for someone. It was big time.

8. saw a black bear- so this has been on my wish list for about 3 years, and I finally saw one as I came back from Kineo.

9. hiked alone in a national park- Acadia national park was gorgeous. Next time I'll remember just to hike and not to go into town.

10. camped by myself- It was actually car camping, but it was still new either way.

11. fished on the open ocean- The waves were huge and yet they were just normal.

12. saw seals- Dozens of seals! All along the Kennebec, it was awesome.

13. rode on a horse bareback- it was slightly uncomfortable. but i felt like a real Indian (i.e. First Persons of the North American continent).

14. rode backwards on a horse.

15. Dug up potatoes- seriously, whoever decided to pull up the first potato? The plants are completely unassuming.

16. went to connecticut- my 5 great grandfather lived there. his house is now a starbucks.

17. went to a sandy beach in the north- I jumped in with James Mitchell the 11 year old and James Mitchell the almost 70-year old.

18. picked tomatoes- Emily was very glad that I'd get to do this.

19. brewed beer- The homemade beer of Kevin Spigel is amazing.

20. ate apples off the tree- they are yummy. just watch for worms.

21. went fly fishing- I have a whole new love for fishing. probably because...

22. caught a fish while fly fishing-


I loved the action the fly rod. you feel much more than on other poles I've fished with.

23. cantered a horse- Oh. My. God. It was awesome! Thanks Bugsy. I had to use so much leg and then it was like it just stared to happen and we were thundering down the fence line. It was awesome!

24. fallen in love with Maine all over again.

What I've learned:
All the horses names; how to throw hey, all the color buckets of the horse feed, how to groom a horse, how to ride a horse, how to fly fish, how to tie a fisherman's knot, homemade beer is the best, you can eat apples off the trees, i like country music, if you're around pre-teens you'll learn all the latest pop songs, how to dig potatoes, putting the roof down on the a bug convertible reduces gas mileage, i could be a good museum idea person, horses are awesome to get to know and have their own personalities, clothes stink after you muck stalls, Libby Mitchell will be an extremely competent governor, I could live in Maine (at least for summers!)

My summer of Be(long)ing

Disclaimer: I consider myself to be semi well-adjusted to daily interactions, though I do probably overthink them as much or more than everyone else. But there is also an internal dialogue that is occurring at all times in which I'm trying to gauge my reactions to things and so this means that I've found use in a variety of different "languages" in order to create a coherent understanding of the parts of myself that are helpful to put into boxes (i.e. what drives satisfaction, what things frustrate me, what sort of systems help me ground myself, self-acceptance, etc.)
So that means that this entry could seem disjointed, and that's fine.

When I went back to college, I had the most incredible perspective. My grades from Davidson had become irrelevant, and so all of a sudden, the most damning, or uplifting, markers of the college experience had suddenly been revealed to be a little less powerful and permanent. So I just wanted to go learn, to explore and experience.
Well, three semesters later and I'm pretty much back into the old groove. I want to do well in school and be able to see it in my grades. I want to have my college success boost me into a career.

Now, I have lived through this summer, and it's kinda fun to realize that I'm going to go back to my last semester with that same fresh enthusiasm and unique set of expectations that I had not very long ago. You see, I think I'm beginning to realize that the greatest accomplishment and intelligence for me revolves around the ability to live in community and companionship with others.
It's the whole "we are social creatures" idea that I'm going to try and appreciate while at school. In fact, and I already knew this, my interests and thoughts constantly revolve around what it feels like to be a person within the context that surrounds me and others. And it has taken this summer for me to feel re-inforced in that that effort in clear ways and for discernible reasons.

So, I've been do-ing a lot of work on the farm and I do a lot of work at school, but there is much more be-ing in relationships than doing. Do-ing is only a part of belonging to a community and be-ing in relationship. And this summer has reminded me of that. That's why it has been my summer of be(long)ing.

Why I'm here

So in the late Spring, I was telling a professor of mine that I was coming up for a "life experience" summer. I wanted to see what it was like to live on a farm and do manual labor. I wanted to see how I liked getting up early, taking care of animals, and living in a rural place.

I'll admit something, though. I was wrong. I had no idea why I was really here.

Turns out, this is all about the people.
I guess I should know this by now. Where you are is really just the context of who you're with.

So how did I come to this decision? Well, about 10 days ago, Bill, Emily, and I were riding in the 'vertible with the top down as night had fallen on rural Maine.
Usually, I'm the person asking questions in the car, but she said to me, "What more do you need to complete your Maine experience?"
I thought for a moment, and I said "I want an outdoor experience, I want to be able to ride a horse, and I want to leave having made good relationships with people here."

I was kind of pleased with myself. Relationships, which are normally the words of those clever spirituality people, had come straight to my mind.
But, the glory did not rain down here.
I immediately started thinking about people in Maine that I might have met for the first time (Bill excluded) and I realized that I didn't know that many people. I was kind of bummed because I didn't have much time then, and I have even less time now.

So the rest of my trip back to the farm was kind of down time. It wasn't until the next morning when I started to think: Oh my gosh, A) this whole thing is about enjoying the relationships I've created and B) I don't have to look anywhere for those relationships. They are right here. They are the connections (los legames, spanish: Los vinculos, italian) that I have with my family.

So here you have it.
this is why I'm here: to be in and grow through my relationships with others and it just so happens that those others are by and large my Maine Mitchell family.

So when, during that same conversation with my professor, he told me to get out of my head, stop thinking that life is just about fly-fishing (referencing a book he is making me read). He told me to get a girl and go for a walk along a creek for a few hours.
So maybe I haven't done that, but I think I got the gist of it, and if my Maine version of that scenario will be to walk slowly as I take a horse out the pasture, or play with my little cousins or talk to my older cousins, then I'm going to appreciate and love that time as the reason that I'm really here

M.O.A. II

"...she thinks my tractor's sexy..."

so this song might seem a little silly, and sure it is. but let me say something. I sorta get it now.
Here's a story. I was talking to one of the people who rides horses here. She is a professor, but she lives in a small town in Maine, and she is very nice and informed, etc.
So I go up to her in the barn and say "You know I'd turn the music to a different station, but I'm sorta starting to like this country music." and she turns to me and says "Wait, aren't you from Arkansas or something?"

so I say "yeah, but I never listened to country music before."
"really," she says, "but I thought that people in the South listened to that sort of thing."

Lucky for me, I'd been thinking about this recently, so I had a ready answer. "Just because I'm from the South doesn't mean I like country music. Country music is not a Southern thing, it is a rural thing." I live in a city of 200,000. we don't have farms around.

People in the city don't drive tractors. Farmer's tans are farmer's tans, not Southern tans. Country music is country music, not Southern Music.
I don't mean to pick on my friend, I just wish to point to the distinction.

Regardless, what I've come to discover is that I like this music because I've begun to understand it. Farmer's tans, tractors, people you hang out with down by the river bank, driving trucks. It makes a lot more sense with my experience here on the Farm than "I hoped off the plane at LAX...Welcome to the land of fame, excess"
-Miley Cyrus, "Party in the USA"

Country music makes sense within my day to day activity. People talk about beer, women and big trucks. At least two of those are a semi-frequent part of my time here.

And so I'm glad that I can appreciate it, now, especially since it's the only thing available on a lot of backwoods roads.

so this has been dedicated to the Music of Arkansas. Our music is not country, it is southern, but I can say that regardless of being a southerner, I do now appreciate country music.

M.O.A. I

As I have mentioned several times, I have lived in various places in my life both in and out of the country. I have seen different levels of consumption that I ascribe to different places, and within that context there are different thoughts on energy use.
The US, far and away, has had greater energy use. I would get yelled at in Italy if I didn't turn the light off each time I left a room, and in Argentina the apartment was unlit until about 6 pm, even though it was late winter, early spring. It's not these countries are any more environmentally conscious ( I don't think there is even real thought about "being Green"), it's just that it costs so much that they literally can't afford to keep the lights on. But I'm not here to talk about lights, I'm here to talk about Air.
Air conditioning. It is not a novel thought. But it doesn't exist in as many places as you'd expect. And by that, I mean, I'd expect it here in the land of freedom and artificially propelled air.

In the South, we wouldn't be able to live without AC and one of the greatest feelings in the summer time is coming from the outside sweating profusely and then being rocked by the wave of cool/house-circulated air as you grab something the drink and sit down on the South.

In Italy, my air conditioning meant opening the balcony door at night. What was I was also opening the door to were bugs, and the blood stains of smashed mosquitoes on the walls, and the swollen eye-lids where I was bitten at night still haunt my memories.

In Argentina it was literally too cool for cool(ness) and so it wasn't a problem.

But here in Maine, in the good ole US of A(ir conditioning) there is no AC. We have remedied the problem slightly with box fans, and I understand that it rarely gets above 90, with 85 being a "scorcher," but you are missing out people.

And clearly, on the days that it's got and you're tired, you need something that'd counter-balance the sleep inducing sweat and glisten.

AC is what makes summer summer, along with poison ivy, hot stearing wheels, and bad hair from driving with the windows down.

So I say this in honor of all colliding molecules. Let's get some M(ovement) O(f) A(ir).

horse camp

Horse Camp! Wow, what a different camp experience! So it wasn't a sleepover, and Emily didn't pre-face the camp with a week-long staff orientation, which would have meant Emily and I talking to each other about leadership skills and fun horse games and going to Walmart on our off nights. But I digress. Basically the kids showed up at 9, and Emily had a rough schedule that was made and adjusted throughout the day, and which had to be repeated to me countless times. It was so lax that sometimes I didn't even feel like it was camp. Also, because Emily was the singular horse trainer, there were only 7 campers...7! It should also be noted that they brought their own lunch so it was picnic lunch instead of taking care of 80 campers at a cafeteria meal.


So here's the deal. At Horse Camp, we only had one activity: horses.

Now this might seem trivial because the activity is named in the camp title. But understand that my conception of summer camp comes from Wet Hot American Summer, Heavy Weights (two Oscar-worthy films) and Episcopalian church camps. Horses have never figured into summer camp for me.
So the focus of camp was totally different. First of all, I had no expertise about riding horses so any confidence i showed was part-cherade. Secondly, the camp really wasn't about community in christ or building relationships with others, or creating moral groundworks. it was about riding and taking care of horses.
*It is true that this teaches responsibility and ownership, but there was never morning christian-edu.

So what does this mean? It mostly meant that I spent time being sacrilegious about horses instead of Christianity. So I'm a fun guy, and so I made sure that we had some fun.

Cane and Abbot rest at lunch.











It Olivia about 8 attempts to get up on her horse bareback









What is camp without playing in the rain?









Very funny guys.









I even got the horses to have fun.









Our own Midsummer Horses' Dream.





But here is the deal. At the end of the week, I had an experience I'd never really had before in terms of cam. I was PROUD . I had a little 7 year old who was about to take care of a horse all by herself.












And there was this nine year old boy, the only guy camper, who was riding, and goofing off just like I knew he could.




















In fact, they were so good at washing horses that Olivia either a) couldn't believe it or b) was frustrated at them for not giving her a bath, too.






So I've never felt pride before about my campers, but these guys had come so far or had been so mature and helpful with beginner riders, and they were so happy to show their families what they had learned and been working on, whether is was making a horse do S-turns or have them jump consecutive jumps at an even canter.
It was just amazing.





Thanks Emily and everyone for a great week.