Lambert Lake - Hazel and Al

Lambert Lake
This is a continuation of Start of Trapping and one Hazel Clark and Al Grass. Hazel’s camp was located on the north end of Lambert Lake. At the other end was Clyde and Winnie Grass’s sporting camp, yes some relation to Al. On the west shore was the Penny camp. In the process of being invited to camp, I meet a Bobbie Lane, wow what a crack shot and hell of nice guy. The way to camp was by boat from Clyde’s, but in the mid 1970’s or so the paper company struck a road around the mountain and was heading toward Spendic Lake searching for timber. By chance this road came within a hundred yards of the camp and the old skidder trail of a so called road. Let me tell you before they rebuilt the road, what a night mare of a mud hole.

Anyways Lambert held some nice trout and Salmon. Hazel and Al would fish for days on day on days in the spring at ice out. Al would run the boat and Hazel would be the back seat driver. She was like the brains of the outfit and he was the muscle. Anyways, Hazel always wanted to be in close to shore so that her rod tip could almost touch the rocks with the dam streamer. There was a constant argument over the speed and boats course, but man did we get fish. The smelt run was pretty good also.
I was taking like weekly trips to camp by now as Hazel had sold the house and made this her home, much against the kid’s wishes. See there was no power, just gas and oil lights. An old generator was used to watch TV or do laundry. No freezer, but I did learn how to can meat. Which leads me to this part of the story? I was coming in to camp on a Friday; I just crossed the outlet bridge when I spotted the little red Nissan bouncing down the road toward me. We were just a short ways from camp, so I stopped to let them in first. Hazel waved as Al swung down the drive, then I saw it behind the truck. I could not believe my eyes. Tied to the hitch of that little Nissan was a nice bull moose. In fact a very dead bull moose. This was before we had a legal moose hunting season in Maine. However there were plenty of moose around Hazel’s camp. I already had the thoughts of going to the Washington County Jail and paying a big fine by the time I got the Blazer parked. I jump out “Hazel what the hell have you done?” I yelled. “Shut up and help us get him in the tree” she shouted back. Hazel liked Wdn Mike Marshal and I am pretty sure he knew the old woman of the woods took a moose now and then to survive, but he never said or showed up during skinning. Within minutes Al was skinning the moose and Hazel had two fires going heat large pots of water. For two days we cut meat, and then she would brown the meat, cool it, put it in glass jar and can the meat. Al would grind hamburger that quickly would be eaten in all sorts of meals. The remains were loaded in the Nissan, hide, bones and scraps then take up road by a mile or so to a side road to be dumped. Hazel really preferred smaller moose and young bucks, but she never passed on much. And if she was coming back from town at 2 a.m., there was always a rifle at the ready. I think she thought it was easier at night. I did notice that come November it had to be legal as the warden was always around. I never saw a piece of meat, bird or fish go to waste and certainly never took more than what she need for her and Al.

That log camp at the north end of the lake holds a lot of memories, as do the waters or Lambert and the flowages.

What a life they had, minimalist in nature. Just a few dollars to buy simple things and food from the wild.

As we grew I had the pleasure of taking Mike Jewett, Fahey and Hayward to meet up with Hazel and Al, it was never a dull moment.