Brandon Bichrest, a Maine guide with a passion for conservation, has spent the past few months pulling tires out of the Androscoggin River — tires that were dumped decades ago in the misguided belief they’d help create fish habitat.
He’s already removed more than 200, but estimates over 10,000 remain.
For 25 years, I’ve worked in the fishing industry, and like many in this line of work, conservation has always been part of the journey.
That’s why I joined Trout Unlimited — to make a difference. It’s a great organization, but every conservation project always seemed just out of reach — too many hoops, too much politics.
To this day, I’m still shocked that we even need organizations like Trout Unlimited, Native Trout, Captains for Clean Water, Stripers Forever and so many others. We all know what needs to be done to protect our waters and fish, so why isn’t it just standard practice for businesses to do the right thing?
I know the answer is money — but what happened to simply doing what’s right?
I’ve been fortunate in my lifetime never to witness true pollution on Maine rivers. I’ve heard the horror stories — rivers that smelled so bad your eyes would water, making it unbearable to be near them. I’m told that history is one reason so many of Maine’s rivers remain undeveloped today.
Thankfully, the Clean Water Act of 1972 changed things. Today, we can float and fish in clean, clear rivers across the state. Sure, we occasionally spot random debris like a tire, motor, bottle, or even the occasional lawn mower in the Penobscot. But I always assumed those were washed in during high water.
This year, however, with historically low water levels across Maine, more riverbeds are exposed than ever. On my home water, the Penobscot, I’m lucky to see very little trash — maybe a handful of tires and bottles each year.
But that’s not the case on the Androscoggin River.
It wasn’t until Brandon started posting photos of his boat piled high with tires that I realized the scale of the problem. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But as the summer went on, the posts kept coming. By late summer, his running total had reached 214.
Curious, I did some research. The problem, I learned, goes back decades. In the 1930s, when recycling was too expensive, dumping was cheap. By the 1960s, many states believed tires could be used as fish habitat, not realizing the chemicals in the rubber would leach into rivers.
When I asked Brandon why he started pulling them out, he said: “Because they’re everywhere and unsightly. Then I did some research and learned how bad tires are for the water and for bug life.”
He also pointed me to a shocking YouTube video about the history of tires used for fish habitat across the country.
Brandon often gets asked how he disposes of the tires, and whether he’s paying out of his own pocket. Right now, he’s keeping them as a physical display in his yard to raise awareness until a real solution is in place.
This summer, Sebago Trout Unlimited organized a cleanup and hauled out some tires and trash. The Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife also runs a cleanup every September.
But the reality is, these efforts barely scratch the surface. Brandon has removed 200 of an estimated 10,000. That’s barely 2 percent.
The more time he spends cleaning, the less time he has to guide. To keep going, he’s launched a GoFundMe to cover expenses.
These tires aren’t just eyesores — they’re leaching chemicals directly into a river where people catch and eat fish.
What are those chemicals doing to fish populations in the Androscoggin? How are they affecting Maine’s efforts to restore Atlantic salmon? Or the protected sturgeon population?
The Androscoggin flows into Merrymeeting Bay — could those chemicals even be contributing to the decline of stripers downstream?
One thing is clear: this isn’t just a cosmetic issue — it’s an environmental crisis hiding in plain sight. Brandon has taken the first step, but he can’t solve it alone. Even News Center Maine ran a story on his efforts — yet the scale of the problem is far bigger than one person can handle.
So the question is — what more can be done?
