Posted to facebook, which is a black hole.

Kate,

My fathers family is from northern Maine, amid endless paper company timber land. When I was young, we would often go to a number of camps deep in the woods for vacation. My father and friends had built one cabin [1] so deep in the woods that we would either he would fly us out in a float plane, or we would take the snowmobiles in the winter. When I was very young, there was still a flying service that would fly you into the sporting camps. I first hiked in when I was two, I believe with my mother and grandmother, carrying my own pack basket and fishing rod. Those camps and the people who ran them [2] are a big part of my good childhood memories. These days, you can drive nearly anywhere on logging haul roads, but when I was younger, it was quite remote and isolated. It is still as wonderful and quiet as it was, but somehow feels too easy to get out there. There is a lot of history up there. I spent a lot of time around people who were connected to the woods, something I’ve lost on the west coast where there is more of an attitude of recreation, and less of a connection.

[1] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/sets/72157594485837423/
[2] http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=jerry&w=70143998%40N00

My grandfather became a commercial airline pilot, and after my great grandfather [8] passed away the family farm was eventually seeded as a tree farm though a government program. [3]

[3] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/sets/72157623905721597
[8] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/5307997474/

I grew up neighbors to my mothers parents. The family is ‘land rich, dirt poor,’ so to speak. My ‘back yard’ growing up was over a thousand acres of forest land, including a great deal of lake front property and even some islands. When I was young, my father and grandfather would harvest timber by tractor and split firewood ever year for the house. I would often wander the traces of old cut roads and listen to stories of the history of the land. Such as where there used to be cabins, who lived in them and what they did. Before the lake was flooded to increase available water to a nearby paper mill, the road to the neighboring town used to cross our land and remnants of it are now underwater, supposedly with old abandoned farm equipment. I used to wander for hours out in the woods, sometimes the entire day. Out at the head of the pond is Puzzle Brook [4][5]. I remember when I was very young the old log bridge, and I can remember seeing it underwater after the beavers dammed the brook. Later we worked with the state to remove the dams and restore the habitat, and we built a new haul road with a causeway [6] over the old one to restore access [7]. My friends and I would sometimes drive out to the end of one of the haul roads or canoe out to the islands and put up a tent for the night. My grandparents have been strict stewards of the family land. The lakefront property would surely be worth millions for development, but they have conserved it as a working forest and habitat.

[4] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/4588992518/
[5] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/5155112573/
[6] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/5155724502
[7] http://www.flickr.com/photos/btmspox/sets/72157625488122228

Over time, I’ve realized that my other cousins on both side of the family didn’t grow up so close to the woods as I did and they don’t feel as strongly about conserving them as I do. I’ve been talking more with the family the last couple years about the forest management plans. Where I grew up, the grandparents want the land to continue in conservation in perpetuity. I want to ensure that happens as well.

I have also been thinking for the first time about how long I plan to live in Seattle. Since I plan to be here for the immediate future, I have been looking for timber parcels within a few hours drive of Seattle that are as remote as possible for a cabin and for timber investment. Being such a huge part of my heritage, it is hard having it all so far away.