Because my post was published a day or two before the Christmas holiday, I thought I’d offer it again in January when we might have more time to relax, read, and reconsider Henry David.

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(In 2006 I wrote this column for the Bangor Daily News. I’ve edited and updated it, but … wow … almost every word feels current. Now, nearly a decade later, I’m writing a murder mystery that is essentially about the murder of the north woods. My post’s pics are from my wild-feeling, winter archives.)

Henry David Slept Here: Maine’s Wild Economy

For millions of nature and literature lovers, Henry David Thoreau’s rhapsodic prose about living “simply” in nature is part of their outdoor, spiritual creed.

However, often when Thoreau lovers use his prose to justify conservation, many north woods residents (even folks who own dog-eared copies of his work) are more apt to grumble about “outsiders who know nothing about real life, spouting dumb reasons for not cutting trees.”

Thoreau believed there was a “higher law affecting our relation to pines.”  In his (diaries of his travels to Ktaadn (sic), Chesuncook, the Allagash and the East Branch from the years 1846-1957) “The Maine Woods” he asks, “Is it the lumberman, then who is the friend and lover of the pine, stands nearest to it, and understands its nature best?”

And confirming some of the locals’ worst fears, he answers, “No, it is the poet, who loves them as his own shadow in the air, and let’s them stand. … It is the living spirit of the tree, not its sprit of turpentine, with which I sympathize, and which heals my cuts. It is as important as I am, and perchance will go to as high a heaven, there to tower above me still.”

Well, there you have it. Henry David takes ‘tree hugging’ to a new transcendence, anticipating how uncut trees will tower over him in heaven.  (I do like to think Thoreau is chuckling up there. Maine’s forests, now deliver more non-timber jobs and income than timber-related jobs and income.)

His classic volume is actually an early guide to Maine’s “wild economy.” Only one paragraph after Thoreau’s hymn to trees, Henry David rejoins his party, eats a hearty breakfast of moose meat (shot and prepared by his hired guide), walks around Pine Stream Falls collecting flowers (while guide Joe does the heavy work of navigating rapids), and arrives at Chesuncook Village.

There he describes a thriving north woods business that boasted a blacksmith and forge, large barns sheltering cattle and horses, ninety tons of hay cut on cleared fields, a garden of fresh vegetables “worth as much here as in New York,” and lodging for over a hundred men on the property.

There’s a link below for winter trail info here.

Thoreau was surrounded by Maine’s wild economy.  From his first visit to a bateaux factory in Old Town to his final “hot shave” at Joe Polis’ house on the Indian Island reservation, Thoreau’s “Maine Woods” is a primer on the requirements and value of Maine’s nature-based or wild economy.

An inventory of commercial enterprises supporting him as he discovers Maine’s north woods would include, guides, outfitters, restaurants, boarding houses, steamers and their crew, paddle makers, canoe and bateau craftsmen, lumbering operations that offered transportation logistics and remote camps, stores selling provisions and necessities, businesses that made tents, blankets, pots, boots, clothing and camping gear, firearms and ammunition companies, and train and stagecoach operations.

Finally, because his published essays became extremely popular north woods guides, the publishers, printers, and bookstores that disseminated Thoreau’s work also became part of the “wild economy.”

Thoreau’s Indian guides stopped and climbed a tall tree when they could find no points of reference deep in the woods. Maybe we also need to climb a proverbial tree; find some better perspective on how entwined our wild outdoors is with a vital economy.

Make no mistake, we are losing our wild assets. Rapid growth of both nature-based tourism and real estate development in our wild areas is happening, but we might be stumbling in the forest without a clear view. Seems that often we cannot boldly act on conservation as an economic strategy.

Wildlife recreation alone delivers $1.2 billion each year and thousands of jobs to Maine. If we added up the state’s significant recreational businesses (snowmobiling, skiing, rafting, windjammers), wildlife recreation would still … all by itself … be the largest outdoor recreation business sector in Maine.

If a “wild” economic fact like that could motivate local and state decision makers, would they have more to say about the loss of habitat, access, or wildness as they make decisions about land use and development? Or are local and regional entities mostly focused on advertising wild places without conserving them or adding more protected woods, waters, and wildlife habitat?

Intense pressure to develop the shores and adjacent woods of rivers, ponds, and lakes that surround Greenville and Rockwood, Maine (my home territory) is an excellent example of how development pressures might be stronger than our ability to secure our vital “green” infrastructure.

… forces stronger than our awareness of the wild world as a green asset.

Do we have information about the value of some of these same resources if they are not developed?  Do we have good information about how wild-feeling, north woods assets deliver billions of dollars to our rural economies?

Thoreau camped near these Penobscot River rapids.

The fact that we can still visit some of the same “wild” sites Thoreau immortalizes and have some of the same experiences he had is a small but special privilege. I can feel, see, hear, and smell what Thoreau heard in 1846 as he stood next to the Penobscot River.

“In the night I dreamed of trout fishing… So I arose before dawn to test its truth.  There stood Ktaadn with distinct and cloudless outline in the moonlight and the rippling of the rapids was the only sound to break the stillness. Standing on shore I once more cast my line into the stream and found the dream to be real. The specked trout sped swiftly through the moonlight air, describing bright arcs on the side of Ktaadn, until moonlight, now fading into daylight, brought satiety to my mind …”

Baker Mountain vista during a backcountry ski.

In that passage, the fish, the river, the stillness, the wildness, the sleeping guides, the people who manufactured the canoes, clothing and gear, and the people who fed, housed, guided, and transported Thoreau’s party are all contained in that one exquisite moment of pleasure, stillness, and peace. 

That experience and the wildness that experience requires are the core of our “wild economy” even as we cherish wild Maine in our own lives.

I think Thoreau might, sitting under his towering tree, remind us again about something he saw in his Maine woods travels. He’d probably be much more urgent about it though.

“… the mission of men there seems to be, like so many busy demons, to drive the forest out of the country.”

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That line made it to my current draft.

I shook my head and squinted at a tiny footnote. Word-for-word, he’d penned a line from Thoreau’s The Maine Woods. “The mission of men there seems to be, like so many busy demons, to drive the forest out of the country.”

Oh, yes. Ian was always the clever boy. He knew we could technically have a bit of country without any real forest left in it. He’d chosen those words for a reason, a reason that had to be connected to his Maine mission. He liked missions and he wasn’t afraid of busy demons.

Kate leaned close to my ear. “Mum? Ian? Where’s Ian? You’re scaring me.”

I couldn’t manage an honest answer because no one had made it official.  I could guess though. My friend Ian had to be in a black body bag headed toward a Bangor autopsy.

 “I don’t have a good answer, honey,” I said, “not a good answer at all.”

PS: Share this with your local land trust or planning board. Ed is the country’s (and world’s) expert on the value of place. Here’s the link to Katahdin Woods and Waters Monument’s  winter trails.

Sandy’s debut novel, “Deadly Trespass, A Mystery in Maine” won a national Mystery Writers of America award, was a finalist in the Women’s Fiction Writers Association “Rising Star” contest, and was a finalist for a Maine Literary Award. The second Mystery in Maine, “Deadly Turn,” was published in 2021. Her third “Deadly” is due out in 2025. Find her novels at all Shermans Books (Maine) and on Amazon. Find more info on Sandy’s website.