Counting Moose

There's a scene in Bad Little Falls in which Mike tags along with Charley Stevens and his daughter Stacey as they conduct an aerial moose survey. When I wrote those chapters, I was being deliberately anachronistic. Moose and deer surveys are mostly done with helicopters these days. But I wanted to get my three characters in a small plane together.

That said, the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife has just announced the findings of "Stacey's" survey:

The Department currently estimates a population of 76,000 moose after using a double count technique the last two winters where two observers independently reported the number of moose observed while flying in a helicopter over northern and eastern Maine.

During the winter of 2010-2011, the Department used the technique, adapted from Quebec and New Brunswick where it was utilized to count deer, to survey Wild Management Districts (WMDs) 2, 3 and 6 with the help of the Maine Forest Service and funds from the Maine Outdoor Heritage Fund.

It was then decided that the aerial survey was far more accurate and efficient than the previously used methods, including transect counts from fixed wing, line-track intercept techniques, a modified Gasaway survey and Forward Looking Infrared (FLIR).

By their nature, these woodland aerial surveys are catch-as-catch-can. A moose can very easily hide in deep cover. But biologists do what they can to be methodical, as you can see from this video:

Winslow Homer & Me

West Point, Prouts Neck by Winslow Homer

My new Editor's Note is up over at the day job. In it, I talk about my childhood in Scarborough, Maine, and my tenuous connection to the greatest American artist of all time:

When I was in high school and college, I spent my summers working in various capacities at the Black Point Inn on Prouts Neck. I started as a dishwasher, graduated the following year to the grounds crew, and even did a stint as a night watchman (a job that mostly involved chasing raccoons out of the hallways and local kids out of the pool) before I finally found my true calling as a bellman. I didn’t think much of the position at the time, but, in retrospect, I realize that working the bell desk was a pretty good gig. Yes, I had to carry some massive pieces of luggage up three flights of stairs, but I also got to park some insanely expensive sports cars, and the tips were phenomenal. One of my duties was driving the inn’s black London taxicab, “Wally,” back and forth to the airport when someone needed a ride. Another involved leading guests along the treacherous cliff walk to the Winslow Homer studio around the corner. There, I would wait outside while the late Doris Homer, who had once been married to the famous painter’s nephew, conducted an informal tour of the premises, which had been much altered since the artist’s days.

The Portland Museum of Art recently became the custodian of Homer's studio and have transformed it into something truly special. If you are in Maine or are planning a trip here this fall, you should get in line to visit. 

Bonus trivia: The bestselling Irish novelist John Connolly also worked at the Black Point Inn, although our tenures there didn't overlap.

"Superbly Crafted Intrigue" Says the Maine Sunday Telegram

The Labor Day weekend has been a good one for Bad Little Falls. The Maine Sunday Telegram is out with its review today, and it's a corker. Reviewer Frank O. Smith does a particularly fine job of characterizing the story (that's harder than it looks with book reviews):

As Bowditch steps from one messy entanglement to another, Roberta Rhine, the stony-faced county sheriff, remarks, "I'm beginning to understand why your superiors transferred you Down East."

The story turns around two frozen men found at night in the middle of the blizzard. One is dead; the other horribly frostbitten. It's becomes quickly apparent that they are local drug dealers. The dead one has a Maori-style tattoo on his face; the other is brother to the beautiful but ill-fated Jamie Sewall, employee-of-the-month at McDonald's in Machias.

Bowditch, lonely and painfully estranged from a former girlfriend, is smitten from the moment he sets eyes on Jamie. She sucks Bowditch deep into the twisted torment of her life and those of a half-dozen other central characters.

Smith calls the book "superbly crafted intrigue" and he says it "will keep you guessing to the perilous end." I appreciate the kind words. And as for his predictions of what might be coming in book four, I will only say that he is one hell of a good guesser.