The Androscoggin is one of Maine’s most neglected major waterways. Why?

My commute to work sometimes involves a short bicycle ride along the Riverwalk, over the retrofitted trestle bridge, through the park on the Lewiston side and up the short hill into downtown.

One recent morning along the river, a class of students was studying and collecting samples of the flora and fauna along the trail. Not such a remarkable sight, but if you consider how far the Androscoggin River has come in the last decade, you appreciate this sight much more.

The river is remarkably improved since I was a child – the odiferous beast children were taught to fear and loathe is dead. Trips to the banks of the Androscoggin by children back then were usually covert operations involving juvenile dares, or just dumb and dangerous kid stuff.

Today, children are accompanied, even encouraged, by adults and teachers to ply the riverbanks. They are there to learn. I think how different their childhood view of the river will be from mine, and I celebrate a little.

That same day, an elderly lady, aided by a walker and accompanied by a friend, was strolling a little farther along the trail, enjoying the morning. A little farther still, a couple sat on a bench taking a breath. Even farther up, a pair of women were walking briskly, getting some exercise. I smiled and thought what a resource the river has always been and is being again. Young, old and in-between generations, sharing in its offerings.

Decisions by city leaders in Lewiston and Auburn to enhance the public’s access to the river have been some of the best and brightest choices they’ve made in recent decades. The progress of redeveloping mill buildings by individuals and government are also great advances.

To some degree these decisions have forced us to return focus to the river and subsequently the city – Lewiston or Auburn – on the opposite bank. The river, as much as our shared histories, is a common thread and common denominator for our separate cities but single community.

Often signs of environmental progress go overlooked, mainly because we still have far to go. Huge issues still face the Androscoggin, including a pending appeal before the state’s Board of Environmental Protection on how much pollution can be pumped into the river upstream of the cities.

In Maine, the Androscoggin is probably the most neglected of all major moving waterways. I often wonder why.

Is there a lack of interest in the community? My morning observations make me think that is not the case. The Kennebec and the Penobscot rivers, both with problems once similar to those still plaguing the Androscoggin, are now heralded for fishing, rafting and other recreational opportunities.

I believe within the next generation the Androscoggin will be, too. It’s a positive view. We may never get back to the days of spawning salmon leaping the falls, but a revival is nearing with steady steps forward. With pressure from business and residents, the government will move, grudgingly slow at times, but it will move toward bringing the lower stretches of the Androscoggin onto an environmental plane comparable to Maine’s other mighty rivers.

Earlier this summer, I saw a single canoe with a single paddler, heading upstream just above the trestle bridge. I wondered why there weren’t at least a scattering, or a tiny armada, of canoes and kayaks? What are we missing?

On occasion the river below Great Falls is a tad smelly, a frequent occurrence above the falls attributable to Gulf Island Pond. But even there, the trails along the banks are frequented by bikers, hikers and anglers.

A good friend packs his fishing gear on his mountain bike and does a little of both there these days. He brags to me about the bass he catches and releases. Fish advisories still prevent safe eating of any fish from the river, but that we can – and will – stand close enough to it to fish these days is a great improvement.

(The swimmable standard promised in the Clean Water Act of 1971 is another issue.)

If you don’t regularly visit the river, go this autumn when the banks bloom with fall foliage. Walk along the Riverwalk in Auburn or bike the trails toward Gulf Island in Lewiston. Consider the progress that’s been made.

And consider how far we still have to go, when it comes to this remarkable resource.

Scott Thistle is the Sun Journal’s regional editor and a fellow of the Idaho-based Institute for Journalism and Natural Resources, and Michigan State University’s Knight Center for Environmental Journalism. E-mail him at [email protected].