JAY BRYANT, 8530 N. 22nd, No. 1047, Phoenix, Ariz., 85201, corresponds on the chance that I might help him find a productive trout pool in the year 1992. He writes: “I am writing to hopefully obtain help on `a fishing trip of a lifetime.’ I am considering doing this with a close friend who is 80 years old. I am 38. He has some limits on ability to ambulate long distances. He can walk one-quarter to a half-mile then needs to rest; otherwise, his health is OK. We discussed a trip somewhere. I wish I could say price was no object but probably we would have to limit our expenditures, less equipment, to about $1,500.”

ANNA MINICUCCI, 203 Sterling Ave., Providence, R.I., brings me up-to-date about an old artist and sportsman, Bart Buckley of Warwick, R.I. Anna, incidentally, is an outstanding outdoor journalist, her excellent prose appearing in the Cranston, R.I., Herald. Of Bart recently, she wrote: “Bart Buckley’s talent, knowledge and experiences are priceless. His fascinating and outstanding careers bridge the enviable gamut and include: teaching fishing and fly-tying classes for youngsters; an official U.S. Army and Air Force cartoonist during World War II. When Buckley traced Henry Thoreau’s Maine woods trail, it gave him an opportunity to produce a photographic collection of birds, plants and flowers observed and reported by Thoreau. Maine remains Bart Buckley’s favorite fishing place, and in particular, Aroostook County.”

TRAVIS H.W. WALLACE, Greenville Junction, making reference to our conversation recently on a recent Woods ‘n’ Waters television program and the individual in the spotlight, George Westcott: “I was very pleased to hear so many positive comments. I wanted to let you know that it was not my intent to demean the warden service. I just wanted to support the fact that George was not trying to hide from anyone. Every time I get into a conversation about George Westcott, there is always someone who just doesn’t understand the circumstances. There were mistakes made by almost everyone involved in this issue: wardens, media, and George himself. And while there are many issues to learn from this man’s odyssey, the lesson I value most is to never underestimate the power of courage.”

DAVID K. LIBBY, RFD 1, Box 153A, Mt. Chase, makes it so very plain what the so-called “Maine sporting camp” means to the state’s economy. He says: “My family members have been employed by camps in the Patten area for the last 25 years. My sisters have been maids, waitresses and cooks. My mother is somewhat famous for her homemade bread and all four of us boys earned our guide’s license. My dad passed away in 1974. He supported his family on revenues he received from guiding and trapping. He was respected as a true woodsman and liked by his peers.” David’s dad, Harley Libby, was there when I’d stopped in at Milt Hall’s on Munsungun Lake, more like a wet 100-dollar bill than a five-hour fisherman. The Libby family holds a front row ticket in this book.

CAROLYN BENNATTI, George Stevens Academy, Blue Hill, reminds that come April 16, 1992, the school will be celebrating Earth Day, a program being fashioned to assist all students in learning more about the environment. “We will begin the day with an all-school assembly and it will end with an all-school concert. In between these two events we will offer a series of hands-on workshops, lectures and presentations. We think this will be an exciting opportunity to educate and inspire over 300 high school students, our faculty, and our community.”

HOP WOOD, 60 Charlotte Drive, Winter Haven, Fla., after spending 70 of his 89 years on Mount Desert Island, is considered the unofficial Boston Red Sox spring training manager. Since neither Hop nor his ever-loving Helen have been back to Maine in nine years, every so often the blues set in. However, says Helen, there’s a cure: “We dig into our savings and have a binge on Maine lobster and a bucket of steamers!” Hop will be remembered for having been the third man in the ring for more than 1,000 boxing matches and 5,000 wrestling waltzes.

DAVID JARVIS, RFD 1, Box 580, Sangerville, knows what the moose hunt means in his immediate family: “My father had the permit and at the time, he was on crutches after a hip replacement.” Bill, 78, brought along some help, son David, the permittee. “It was a special hunt for the Jarvis family, hunting the largest game animal on the continent. The hunt is well managed and will longered be remembered by my dad and nephew, Bill Jarvis Jr.”

Bill Jarvis, I suspect, wore out a hip throwing that mean curveball of his for 30 years and longer in the old Eastern Maine Baseball League.