All posts by Nick Mills

Nick Mills

About Nick Mills

Full disclosure: I was not born in Maine, alas! I was born in Massachusetts, but the family moved to Maine when I was eleven, and I grew up in Thomaston. My dad was skipper of one of the draggers that sailed out of Rockland, in the days when it was a rough-tough working fishing port. When he came in from the sea his favorite activity was freshwater fishing with me and my brother, Peter. We learned together to flyfish for trout in the Alder Stream in Eustis. Once hooked on the sport, pun intended, I fished at every opportunity in every place I could -- in the rivers, streams and ponds of Maine; in the mountain ponds of Utah, where I was stationed for a year in the Army; in high Andean lakes in Colombia, where I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer; even in a lagoon that surrounded one of Saddam Hussein's palaces in Baghdad. I tried once to go trout fishing in northern Afghanistan, when the U.S.S.R. occupied that country; a landslide blocked my path, but that led to a more interesting adventure, which I will tell you about in a future post.

I Love Brook Trout. So Should You.

I’m in love with a fish. It’s no secret. I don’t try to hide it. This affair has been going on for some time, since I was, I guess, twelve years old and saw my first brook trout. That trout had just opened its mouth to dine on a live worm, until recently a contented […]

Default, Dear Brutus, Is Not In Our Stars…

…but in our operating systems. Or so the Immortal Bard might have written had he tapped out Julius Caesar on an iPad rather than scratching it out on parchment with a goose feather. I started thinking about defaults the other day as I sat in the estimable Rangeley Public Library (est. 1909, now on the […]

Me, a Registered Maine Guide? No Thanks.

Someone asked me why I, with my (possibly) over-the-top fondness of fishing, don’t become a Registered Maine Guide. I answered, as diplomatically as I could, “Are you nuts?” I can understand the question. My license plate is FLY CST, I have a coveted camp at Upper Dam, I have fished in countless rivers, streams, lakes […]

Upta Camp

There comes a time in every angler’s season that persistent failure to catch fish brings the realization that trout season, at least the first half, is over. The first half begins at ice-out and ends sometime around Bastille Day, when the water is too warm for trout comfort and the hexagenia hatches peter out. The […]

James R. Babb Won’t Let Me Sleep

But it’s a temporary thing, only until I finish his latest book, Fish Won’t Let Me Sleep — Obsessions of a Lifelong Flyfisherman. Mr. Babb is one of the most entertaining writers in the fish-lit genre, and that’s saying a lot because ever since Dame Juliana Berners’s Treatyse of fysshynge wyth an Angle emerged in […]

Gorgeous Georges, A Most Excellent River

The English explorer Captain George Weymouth sort of named the Saint George River after himself, don’t you think? When the original Curious George sailed the good ship Archangel from Monhegan to Muscongus Bay and up the river in 1605, he pronounced it “a most excellent river” and named it for England’s patron saint and I’m […]