Although the boy in this book is me, this book is not a true autobiography. It is, instead, a book celebrating nature and a young boy's discoveries in the natural world surrounding him. All the adventures and discoveries described herein happened during a relatively short span of time; the late forties and early fifties of the last century. That last sentence makes this sound like ancient history, doesn't it? Don't worry. The small adventures described within its pages can still be experienced by young people today, if they are open to them. The first chapter briefly describes our family's life of poverty but this and the following chapter mapping out the territory where my adventures took place, are not the main theme of the book. Its theme should be thought of as the natural history of an area in Maine that does not exist today; The Cove, but when it did, was an inspiration to me when I desperately needed it. I hope that instead of getting a depressing "Oh-pity-me" experience from reading my words, you will instead share the joy of discovering the world of nature up close and personal, so to speak, as I did in spite of the obstacles in my way. So, as Tom Hennessey so beautifully said in the foreword, follow my "trail of words" and I'll try to put you in my shoes so you can follow me as I recount my life changing small adventures while growing up along the Penobscot River in the State of Maine. My father first introduced me to fishing by taking me with him one day to a little trout brook in Levant, Maine. His fishing gear was primitive; a pole cut on the spot with a length of line tied to its tip; then a single hook tied to the line and baited with a single earthworm, but it did the intended job. He caught trout that day and in doing so, that little experience changed my life. It introduced me to a natural world I never imagined existed beyond my doors and my back yard. I could never again see a stretch of water without wondering what mysteries lay beneath its surface. I later caught fish with more sophisticated gear and sometimes with even most primitive gear than my father's as I describe in some of these chapters. Poverty can drag you down and even kill you if you let it, but it can also be the greatest learning experience of your life if you let it. If you are inspired enough, you learn to make do with what's at hand if you don't have what you need to do the job "properly." A piece of wire could become a fish hook; a broom handle and a nail could become a fish spear; a snippet of fur from your pet skunk could become a fishing fly, and (under the right conditions) a large flat rock could magically transport you through the sky. I learned how to build rafts that float and a raft that sank. I built a boat from some very ordinary materials I scavenged from around the house and the neighborhood. But, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. It took longer for me to build that boat than for it to sink. I learned a cold, wet lesson one dark night when I discovered the difference between a sucker and a salmon. I learned that some fish can actually eat a fish larger than itself. I learned the places where the different species of fish preferred to hang out and what they fed on. I learned how to catch fish that were only a couple of inches long to others that were more than three feet long; all from the same area. Immersing yourself in the natural world brings you in contact with its many creatures. Some of them became my pets. White Footed Mice, Muskrats, a crow, a skunk, and even a one-eyed seagull and other creatures came to the Simpson house on North Main Street. Some stayed for a while but others did not. I learned things from all of them, though. There's an old saying that beggars can't be choosers. However, beggars (poor folks) can be opportunists. We ate the fish we caught and the deer we shot, but when my brother and I discovered the town dump across the river in Veazie, Maine, it was like finding treasure! You can't imagine the wonderful things that people throw away. The dump became a playground of sorts. Throwing rocks at bottles and rats is a great pastime, but the day my brother discovered that perfectly good bakery goods were thrown away also, was a red letter day. When you're a hungry person, the fact that food came from the town dump doesn't enter into the equation. The bakery tossed out the outdated products and we made a point to be there when they did. The baked goods hit the ground, the truck left, we gathered them up, and away home we went. We had never heard of the "five second rule", but even if we had, it would not have made a difference. "Waste not, want not," was our motto. The world is a constantly changing place. Everything changes and nothing lasts forever. Mountain ranges are growing and are being worn down at a pace so slow that we cannot observe their growth and destruction with our eyes even over centuries of time, but there are times when changes take place at such a rapid pace that it is amazing to see. A series of massive hurricanes combined with a dam being dismantled doomed The Cove to a return to what it originally was; the mouth of a brook; Johnson Brook, where it flows into the Penobscot River. The are few traces of the original Cove left; the remains of a small island and a large pine grove up on one of its banks are the only real landmarks left. The hurricanes filled it in with gravel and silt and the destruction of the dam lowered the waters of the Penobscot river and so the river's waters no longer back up into The Cove. Trees and brush now thrive where all my adventures took place. Johnson Brook now flows through the area as in days gone by. I'm thankful The Cove's existed in my youth. If it had never been there, I'm certain that my life would be much different today than it is.

Although the boy in this book is me, this book is not a true autobiography. It is, instead, a book celebrating nature and a young boy's discoveries in the natural world surrounding him. All the adventures and discoveries described herein happened during a relatively short span of time; the late forties and early fifties of the last century. That last sentence makes this sound like ancient history, doesn't it? Don't worry. The small adventures described within its pages can still be experienced by young people today, if they are open to them. The first chapter briefly describes our family's life of poverty but this and the following chapter mapping out the territory where my adventures took place, are not the main theme of the book. Its theme should be thought of as the natural history of an area in Maine that does not exist today; The Cove, but when it did, was an inspiration to me when I desperately needed it. I hope that instead of getting a depressing "Oh-pity-me" experience from reading my words, you will instead share the joy of discovering the world of nature up close and personal, so to speak, as I did in spite of the obstacles in my way. So, as Tom Hennessey so beautifully said in the foreword, follow my "trail of words" and I'll try to put you in my shoes so you can follow me as I recount my life changing small adventures while growing up along the Penobscot River in the State of Maine. My father first introduced me to fishing by taking me with him one day to a little trout brook in Levant, Maine. His fishing gear was primitive; a pole cut on the spot with a length of line tied to its tip; then a single hook tied to the line and baited with a single earthworm, but it did the intended job. He caught trout that day and in doing so, that little experience changed my life. It introduced me to a natural world I never imagined existed beyond my doors and my back yard. I could never again see a stretch of water without wondering what mysteries lay beneath its surface. I later caught fish with more sophisticated gear and sometimes with even most primitive gear than my father's as I describe in some of these chapters. Poverty can drag you down and even kill you if you let it, but it can also be the greatest learning experience of your life if you let it. If you are inspired enough, you learn to make do with what's at hand if you don't have what you need to do the job "properly." A piece of wire could become a fish hook; a broom handle and a nail could become a fish spear; a snippet of fur from your pet skunk could become a fishing fly, and (under the right conditions) a large flat rock could magically transport you through the sky. I learned how to build rafts that float and a raft that sank. I built a boat from some very ordinary materials I scavenged from around the house and the neighborhood. But, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. It took longer for me to build that boat than for it to sink. I learned a cold, wet lesson one dark night when I discovered the difference between a sucker and a salmon. I learned that some fish can actually eat a fish larger than itself. I learned the places where the different species of fish preferred to hang out and what they fed on. I learned how to catch fish that were only a couple of inches long to others that were more than three feet long; all from the same area. Immersing yourself in the natural world brings you in contact with its many creatures. Some of them became my pets. White Footed Mice, Muskrats, a crow, a skunk, and even a one-eyed seagull and other creatures came to the Simpson house on North Main Street. Some stayed for a while but others did not. I learned things from all of them, though. There's an old saying that beggars can't be choosers. However, beggars (poor folks) can be opportunists. We ate the fish we caught and the deer we shot, but when my brother and I discovered the town dump across the river in Veazie, Maine, it was like finding treasure! You can't imagine the wonderful things that people throw away. The dump became a playground of sorts. Throwing rocks at bottles and rats is a great pastime, but the day my brother discovered that perfectly good bakery goods were thrown away also, was a red letter day. When you're a hungry person, the fact that food came from the town dump doesn't enter into the equation. The bakery tossed out the outdated products and we made a point to be there when they did. The baked goods hit the ground, the truck left, we gathered them up, and away home we went. We had never heard of the "five second rule", but even if we had, it would not have made a difference. "Waste not, want not," was our motto. The world is a constantly changing place. Everything changes and nothing lasts forever. Mountain ranges are growing and are being worn down at a pace so slow that we cannot observe their growth and destruction with our eyes even over centuries of time, but there are times when changes take place at such a rapid pace that it is amazing to see. A series of massive hurricanes combined with a dam being dismantled doomed The Cove to a return to what it originally was; the mouth of a brook; Johnson Brook, where it flows into the Penobscot River. The are few traces of the original Cove left; the remains of a small island and a large pine grove up on one of its banks are the only real landmarks left. The hurricanes filled it in with gravel and silt and the destruction of the dam lowered the waters of the Penobscot river and so the river's waters no longer back up into The Cove. Trees and brush now thrive where all my adventures took place. Johnson Brook now flows through the area as in days gone by. I'm thankful The Cove's existed in my youth. If it had never been there, I'm certain that my life would be much different today than it is.

Although the boy in this book is me, this book is not a true autobiography. It is, instead, a book celebrating nature and a young boy's discoveries in the natural world surrounding him. All the adventures and discoveries described herein happened during a relatively short span of time; the late forties and early fifties of the last century. That last sentence makes this sound like ancient history, doesn't it? Don't worry. The small adventures described within its pages can still be experienced by young people today, if they are open to them. The first chapter briefly describes our family's life of poverty but this and the following chapter mapping out the territory where my adventures took place, are not the main theme of the book. Its theme should be thought of as the natural history of an area in Maine that does not exist today; The Cove, but when it did, was an inspiration to me when I desperately needed it. I hope that instead of getting a depressing "Oh-pity-me" experience from reading my words, you will instead share the joy of discovering the world of nature up close and personal, so to speak, as I did in spite of the obstacles in my way. So, as Tom Hennessey so beautifully said in the foreword, follow my "trail of words" and I'll try to put you in my shoes so you can follow me as I recount my life changing small adventures while growing up along the Penobscot River in the State of Maine. My father first introduced me to fishing by taking me with him one day to a little trout brook in Levant, Maine. His fishing gear was primitive; a pole cut on the spot with a length of line tied to its tip; then a single hook tied to the line and baited with a single earthworm, but it did the intended job. He caught trout that day and in doing so, that little experience changed my life. It introduced me to a natural world I never imagined existed beyond my doors and my back yard. I could never again see a stretch of water without wondering what mysteries lay beneath its surface. I later caught fish with more sophisticated gear and sometimes with even most primitive gear than my father's as I describe in some of these chapters. Poverty can drag you down and even kill you if you let it, but it can also be the greatest learning experience of your life if you let it. If you are inspired enough, you learn to make do with what's at hand if you don't have what you need to do the job "properly." A piece of wire could become a fish hook; a broom handle and a nail could become a fish spear; a snippet of fur from your pet skunk could become a fishing fly, and (under the right conditions) a large flat rock could magically transport you through the sky. I learned how to build rafts that float and a raft that sank. I built a boat from some very ordinary materials I scavenged from around the house and the neighborhood. But, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray. It took longer for me to build that boat than for it to sink. I learned a cold, wet lesson one dark night when I discovered the difference between a sucker and a salmon. I learned that some fish can actually eat a fish larger than itself. I learned the places where the different species of fish preferred to hang out and what they fed on. I learned how to catch fish that were only a couple of inches long to others that were more than three feet long; all from the same area. Immersing yourself in the natural world brings you in contact with its many creatures. Some of them became my pets. White Footed Mice, Muskrats, a crow, a skunk, and even a one-eyed seagull and other creatures came to the Simpson house on North Main Street. Some stayed for a while but others did not. I learned things from all of them, though. There's an old saying that beggars can't be choosers. However, beggars (poor folks) can be opportunists. We ate the fish we caught and the deer we shot, but when my brother and I discovered the town dump across the river in Veazie, Maine, it was like finding treasure! You can't imagine the wonderful things that people throw away. The dump became a playground of sorts. Throwing rocks at bottles and rats is a great pastime, but the day my brother discovered that perfectly good bakery goods were thrown away also, was a red letter day. When you're a hungry person, the fact that food came from the town dump doesn't enter into the equation. The bakery tossed out the outdated products and we made a point to be there when they did. The baked goods hit the ground, the truck left, we gathered them up, and away home we went. We had never heard of the "five second rule", but even if we had, it would not have made a difference. "Waste not, want not," was our motto. The world is a constantly changing place. Everything changes and nothing lasts forever. Mountain ranges are growing and are being worn down at a pace so slow that we cannot observe their growth and destruction with our eyes even over centuries of time, but there are times when changes take place at such a rapid pace that it is amazing to see. A series of massive hurricanes combined with a dam being dismantled doomed The Cove to a return to what it originally was; the mouth of a brook; Johnson Brook, where it flows into the Penobscot River. The are few traces of the original Cove left; the remains of a small island and a large pine grove up on one of its banks are the only real landmarks left. The hurricanes filled it in with gravel and silt and the destruction of the dam lowered the waters of the Penobscot river and so the river's waters no longer back up into The Cove. Trees and brush now thrive where all my adventures took place. Johnson Brook now flows through the area as in days gone by. I'm thankful The Cove's existed in my youth. If it had never been there, I'm certain that my life would be much different today than it is.

The Eco-Challenge is an event that is a mix of an Indiana Jones adventure, a Lewis and Clark expedition and a modern day competition. It is an expedition with a stopwatch. Teams explore and race through distances as much as 500 kilometers through wild and untouched terrain. The teams bushwhack through dense jungles, mountain bike on rugged trails, paddle down rivers or across lakes, and climb fixed ropes.

Finishing the Eco-Challenge takes more than physical endurance. Teammates must work together. If a team loses a member due to illness, fatigue, injury, or disagreement, they become disqualified. Individuals must find it within themselves to be able to overcome these hardships and keep their team together.

Why do people choose to do such a grueling event? In many cultures there are several examples of ways to find ones personal direction and life purpose. Some quests take the form of quiet meditation, while others use more physical means. The Eco-Challenge is perhaps western cultures answer to such a quest. One individual named Dennis, sought his own direction and assembled a team of four to enter the Eco-Challenge. His quest takes him and his team to the Fiji Islands, an ancient land that was once ruled by cannibals. He must struggle beyond his physical limitations. His direction waits for him at the finish line. If he quits, he loses more than just a race.

In the book, “Our Adventures In The Wild” the reader will experience the excitement of hunting. Having wild game so close you could touch them. Hair raising fear when wild bear are within ten yards of you, face to face. This book will tickle your funny bone as we take life on the light side. You’ll laugh with us at many junctions along the way as we explore the wonders of the great outdoors. You’ll be right there with us every step of the way. So turn the pages and come along on a hunt, on the trail or in our canoe. We’ll even save you room in our tent.

In the book, “Our Adventures In The Wild” the reader will experience the excitement of hunting. Having wild game so close you could touch them. Hair raising fear when wild bear are within ten yards of you, face to face. This book will tickle your funny bone as we take life on the light side. You’ll laugh with us at many junctions along the way as we explore the wonders of the great outdoors. You’ll be right there with us every step of the way. So turn the pages and come along on a hunt, on the trail or in our canoe. We’ll even save you room in our tent.

In the book, “Our Adventures In The Wild” the reader will experience the excitement of hunting. Having wild game so close you could touch them. Hair raising fear when wild bear are within ten yards of you, face to face. This book will tickle your funny bone as we take life on the light side. You’ll laugh with us at many junctions along the way as we explore the wonders of the great outdoors. You’ll be right there with us every step of the way. So turn the pages and come along on a hunt, on the trail or in our canoe. We’ll even save you room in our tent.

Point Last Seen is a training manual for search and rescue volunteers. It provides the reader real insight into wildlands search and rescue in New York State, as it is implemented and administered by the New York State Forest Rangers.

It provides valuable information on a variety of vital subjects such as Incident Administration, Personal Safety, Casualty Management, Tracking and Sign Cutting, Land Navigation, Climbing Techniques and Field Communications.

Only the Search Incident Administration portion of the book is New York State specific.Most of the material has wide application anywhere wildlands search and rescue activiites are carried on.