I knocked on the door, and the old man opened it and seeing the big ham I had for him said “what’s that for?” “You” I replied. “Jeez, you didn’t have to do that” he said in his downeast Maine drawl. You didn’t have to show me how to get to that pond either” I said as I handed him the Christmas ham. “Now we’re even”. “Ha Ha, ok then, we’re even” he said as he shut the door.
I wonder if that term came from the Great Depression, or even before, when people did a lot of bartering and trading instead of just outright buying things. It certainly has persisted here in Maine. “Making it right”, “settling up”, and “we’re even” are still used quite a bit. Often times a passer by will do something to help someone out, for example, a few years ago my truck slid off the road during a snowstorm and one of the people in town that was driving by helped to tow me out. A few days later I bought him a bottle of rum. I “made it right”.
The old man owned a sand pit where he would crush rock and then sell it. He had a big front end loader and a dump truck. It appeared that he did all the work himself. There was a small road going through the pit that led to a very large tract of woodland that I was using for hunting and fishing. I was always thankful when he wasn’t there when I drove by, I had the impression that he was ornery. It appeared that he had been irritated by the ATV’s that had been accessing the same woodland that I was, so he went up there with a back hoe and dug a big hole so they could get through anymore. In addition, he took a chain saw to one of the old wooden logging bridges up there as well. I didn’t want to cross him.
I was on vacation for a week from work, and was up there each morning. And each morning he would drive up near where I was, and then loop back around to where he was going to work for the day. I thought it was a little odd. So, one morning I walked up to his truck as he was looping around. He rolled down the window, and showed a bit of surprise when I asked him if I was in his way where I was parking. “Hell no” he said sticking his head out the window. “What are you doing up in there?” he asked, looking me over. I replied that I was doing a little hunting. “Do you ever hunt coyotes?” he asked. “Sometimes….” “Well”, he replied, “the state ought to give you a medal for doing that.” I laughed. We actually talked for some time, and I could tell that he thought I was OK. Finally he put the truck into drive, and as he was pulling away he told me to park there any time I wanted.
We would see each other on and off when I would go up there – now he would wave from inside of the cab on the loader. He was a Mainer, tried and true. An old cap jaunted to one side, with a black lab that was always with him. Pierce blue eyes that had energy in them, and looked younger than the rough skin surrounding them. The inside of his truck had probably never been cleaned, and had a layer of dust, receipts, and other flotsam and jetsam within it.
There was a pond up there I had spied on a map that I wanted to get to. I looked at the layout of the land surrounding it, and tried to make it in there on a couple of occasions without success. One day I was talking with the old man and I mentioned I was trying to get in there to check it out, but I couldn’t seem to make it. “What do you want to go way up in there for?” he said and without waiting for a response – “you can’t find a place like that on your own, someone has to SHOW you….c’mon hop in”. It wasn’t really a question, so, I hopped in. As we rode down the woods road he was telling me hunting and fishing stories, and reminiscing about what it was like there when he was a kid. Finally we got to where we couldn’t drive anymore and we got out and started walking. The path was barely discernible and quickly faded out as we headed deeper into the woods. He told me it was a very old hunting trail, and showed me the faint axe marks on the trees made many years before by the people that hunted in there to mark the way. Eventually, he seemed to be lost, and started swearing. I was a little nervous that he was going to have a heart attack from the exercise, or that we would end up spending the night out there, lost. But eventually after much meandering we found a couple of the marks on the trees and pushed on, eventually making it to the pond. It was beautiful and remote, just as I hoped it would be. I looked down and found a giant moose antler there near the bank. We looked around a bit and then made our way out.
I wonder why the gruff and ornery old man decided to show me how to get to a place that was obvious a place that he considered “his” . Perhaps he was showing me because he thought I would use it “right”, or perhaps because he couldn’t get up there much anymore. Regardless, he was passing information to me that he considered secret and sacred. So, when Christmas came a month later, I bought a big ham and delivered it to his house for him and his family.
We were even.
[...] country around you. I enjoyed seeing the old barely discernable marks on the trees whenThe Old Man from the sand pit took me along the old hunting path – a path my Grandfather used, and his [...]
I’m not much at writing, however I do know the life styles of the maine woods people. Most of them that do live away from the city, in alot of cases that means a one store town where they can get a few of the things they really need like TP cigs & beer, the rest of the things they need they get on there own land.
A good number of these people have lived where they are since thet were kids. Yes for good reason they are very suspicious of other people that invade there territory. however when you are curtious to them, talk to them, ask permission to enter there property for hicking, fishing hunting, ect, most of the time you will be greated with respect for your asking permission to enter there land, and not just taking for granted that you have a right to enter a persons property just because! I know this because I am one of the people that own land in maine and I was born here, and when people come to me and ask if they can hunt or fish or whatever on my land most times I have no trouble with it. HOWEVER if someone enters my property without my concent they will not be allowed on my property ever again.
And beleive me if you are told not to be seen on someones property again you probably might want to listen to them!
It’s all about respect and unfortunately a good portion of people have none.
Thank you
a conserned Mainer
You make some excellent points! You are absolutely correct that asking permission to access someone’s property is necessary, and at least in the case of trapping is the law. By asking nicely I have always been granted permission to hunt and trap when I asked. And it also makes me realize that there are some glaring omissions in my story. The property I was accessing is owned by a holding company that retains ownership of the land and allows a paper company the rights to harvest wood. They also maintain “traditional access” and do not require explicit permission to use the property for hunting, fishing, and trapping, with the exception of needing a permit for bear baiting/bear stands. What is amazing to me is my Grandfather hunted the same woods 70 years ago. The road that led to that land was a public right of way that happened to pass through the “Old Man’s” sand pit. The hole he dug to stop the ATV’s coming through was not even his property, and the game wardens forced him to fill it back in shortly after he did it. He was a cantankerous man, and known for his temper, but I am thankful that he was curious enough to ask me what I was doing, and take an interest enough in me to show me the places he did.