
In June, 2008, I arrived in the Moosehead Lake Region of Maine, a wild and remote region of the Northeast, to scout locations for a documentary film.
I had no place to stay, but the director of the local chamber of commerce had promised he would arrange for my lodging.
He told me I would be staying with Marie Candeloro, a resident of Kokadjo, a settlement seven miles east of Moosehead Lake, that lists its population as “Not many.” I couldn’t hide my astonishment.
Several weeks earlier, while I was researching my film, titled “Moosehead’s Wicked Good Plan,” I’d called Marie to talk to her about the subject of my documentary: a controversial land development proposal by the country’s largest private land owner, Seattle-based Plum Creek Timber, that would convert huge swaths of forest around Moosehead Lake into residential neighborhoods and resorts.
I introduced myself to Marie, explained that I was a member of the Appalachian Mountain Club, and that I was producing a documentary about the Plum Creek development plan. She was not impressed. She said conservation groups needed to stop calling her and she hung up. I figured that was the end of that.
Then I learned I’d be bunking at her house.

Marie had reason to be defensive. She and her husband Fred, are the owners of Kokadjo Trading Post, an outpost 18 miles northeast of Greenville, which is at the nose of Moosehead Lake.
Plum Creek’s arrival in Maine has benefited the Candeloros, since many of Plum Creek’s lumbermen and residents of an earlier Plum Creek development nearby frequent their trading post. Also while Plum Creek has brought the Candeloro’s buiness, a land sale to the Appalacian Mountain Club has hampered access to some of the snowmobile trails used by their customers.
Although I am the only person making a film about the planned development, the issue had been covered heavily in the media. The Economist, the New York Times and the Boston Globe covered Plum Creek’s initial land purchase in 1998 when the company moved to Maine.
The future of the wilderness region was big news again in 2005, when Plum Creek proposed a rezoning plan for a large residential development on the forest land around the lake.
If you know the Moosehead Lake region, you know what all the fuss is about. It’s a magical place. The lake is 40 miles long and 12 miles wide and has so far been relatively unscathed by development. It’s touted as the largest lake enclosed in one state east of the Mississippi and the surrounding forest as the largest undeveloped forest in the East.
The enormous counties that surround the lake, Somerset and Piscataquis, boast sparse populations of only about 51,000 and 17,000 people, respectively. Greenville is the major town center on the lake’s 400 miles of shoreline. Most of the other towns are so small they remain unnamed and only warrant a township number.
It is a serene place, abundant in wildlife and opportunities for solitude. When you drive into Greenville you will pass by the Moosehead Messenger, the local newspaper, the Stress Free Moose tavern and road signs for moose crossing. Moose is the brand in Moosehead for a reason. On a recent trip to the area, I saw at least 30 wild moose. The lake’s name comes from the fact that from the air it looks like a moosehead with antlers – especially if you’re used to seeing the live animals frequently.

If approved by the state, Plum Creek’s proposed developments would be built on some of the most idyllic and untouched areas of Moosehead Lake’s shoreline. A proposed resort in Lily Bay with 404 units would overlook an existing State Park. Another resort on Moose Mountain, would shadow Indian Pond, due west of Moosehead Lake, an area that currently has only one or two rustic cabins.
Plum Creek’s proposal has gone through multiple iterations. Their initial plan encompassed 426,000 acres of their 905,000 acres in Maine. The purpose was to rezone the land from timber to residential use. The rezoning will pave the way for 2000+ units of residential and resort housing in the entire region.
In exchange, as a proposed balance to the development they will create conservation easements and sell development rights to 363,000 acres of their timberland. They will still use the easement land for timber harvesting but residential development will no longer be permitted.
The easements will also allow the land to be maintained as a whole instead of fragmentation that could come from multiple land ownership if Plum Creek decided to leave. The company will maintain a long held tradition of public use of private land that lets anyone snowmobile, hike, ATV, cross country ski and recreate in the vast swatches of land.
The local inhabitants are split on whether the development should go through.

On one hand, the region is desperate for economic development. In 2004 Somerset and Piscataquis had the lowest per capita income in the state. The average family income in Somerset was almost $10,000 less than the U.S. average. According to census data from 2000, the counties had poverty levels of 14.9% and 14.8% respectively, hovering around 2.5% higher than the nation as a whole.
To keep their business running, Marie and Fred Candeloro keep the store open all day, everyday. The long, frigid winters hit people in the region especially hard, and they struggle to pay heating bills. It’s the promise of an economic boost that convinced Candeloros that the Plum Creek development might be worth the loss of wilderness. They think that the population growth would improve the economy.
They are also afraid of the alternative to Plum Creek which is smaller parcels of private land with no public land access. The Candeloros rely on snowmobilers and ATV riders to support their trading post business, and the plans for the development maintain forest corridors, protecting the trails that their customers use. Other plans might come along that develop the area piecemeal, they reason, cutting off the trails.
On the other hand, opponents think that Plum Creek’s development is irresponsible. They criticize the placement of the developments overall because they are planned in remote, forested parts of the region when they could be placed closer to existing communities. They also cite the company’s record of environmental violations in Maine and point to what they say is the company’s poor reputation in other states where they operate and own land, like Montana.
Critics complain that company bought the land for $200 an acre and the rezoning will increase the value many-fold. Should they be able to make such a windfall profit by building the largest subdivision Maine has ever seen and reshaping this part of the north Maine woods forever?
Opponents of the plan are not against development per se. Everyone acknowledges that the region badly needs economic development but the question is whether it is right to allow the highest bidder to restructure this expansive forest at the expense of the land commonly valued by all?

Supporters of the Plum Creek plan counter that the lumber and tourism industries have a long history in the region and Plum Creek’s concept is nothing new.
The region is steeped in lumber heritage. It was home to saw mills, paper companies and river drivers, rugged independent single men who every spring floated timber downriver towards Bangor or the paper mills.
The timber industry that defined the region began in 1631. Some early timbermen were brought to the Maine woods to harvest wood for masts requested by the King of England. By 1850 all the significant rivers in the state had been logged, a practice started in 1835 when the Maine state legislature chartered the Kennebec Log Driving Company.
By the turn of the century companies like Great Northern, Scott and International Paper fed paper mills throughout Maine. The state arguably had the largest paper industry in the world. International Paper, started in 1898, still holds that title although its headquarters are now in Tennessee.
In the 1980s due to globalization of the timber industry and cheaper wood and paper in South America and China, paper companies began selling enormous tracts of land in Maine. Scott Paper sold to South African Pulp and Paper who then sold to Plum Creek.
Maine’s unique forests and coast lines have also long been a magnet for visitors seeking solace in nature.
The coasts have had artist colonies with painters, sculptors, writers, and poets. Many vacation resorts are located inland. Henry David Thoreau wrote about his travels around Moosehead Lake in his book, The Maine Woods. In the mid 19th Century a world famous resort was built on Mt. Kineo in the middle of Moosehead Lake.


My love of the Maine wilderness stems from my father, who introduced me to hiking, skiing and the outdoors in Maine. I grew up on the outskirts of Auburn, one of Maine’s larger towns, surrounded by 360 degrees of forests. I remember scrambling over boulders on Maine’s Tumbledown Mountain with my dad, my brother and our Irish Terrior, Magnus, when I was a small child. As I grew older, I continued to hike and spend time outdoors. The changing forest seasons have been an integral part of my life. I feel a very close connection to the land and feel that what happens to the forest will impact all of us.
My father also introduced me to Appalachian Mountain Club, which I first joined in 1999. It was while serving as co-chair of the Maine Chapter’s Young Members Committee in 2005, that I first learned of the Plum Creek proposal. Representatives from the company came to talk to the club about the proposal, and I was struck with how much was at stake. This was a moment in history with serious implications for the future of the region and a poignant example of the pressure human development is putting on wilderness around the world.
When I moved to Washington, DC the following year to attend film school, I continued to think about the situation, and two years later when I started working on my thesis documentary, I decided I would focus my film on the proposed development around Moosehead Lake.
While shooting my film in July and August, 2008, I ended up staying at a cabin Marie lent me and worked closely with the Candeloros as characters in the film. I think she reconsidered talking with me because she has a tough exterior but also a big heart.
I spent the summer exploring all the issues surrounding Plum Creek’s development plan. I interviewed other residents and followed people who live their lives by the land. What I learned is that the land is at heart of what matters most to everyone there. Whether they support or oppose the development it is because of their love of the land.

There are actually bigger numbers and louder opponents, with a liberal bent, to Plum Creek’s development proposal than there are supporters. I think it is important to hear the supporters’ needs too. There are many hardships facing northern Maine, a struggling economy, a short tourist season, extreme climates and a remote location.
I think the forest historian, Richard Judd, described the conflict well in a 2007 article in the Maine Policy Review. “What we want from the Maine North Woods is complicated,” he wrote, “by the fact that it stands on the border of the most heavily urbanized region of North America, and our thinking about it has been shaped by a century of urban wilderness fantasies.”
Critics fought hard not to let Plum Creek’s rezoning request pass, but in September 2009 the Maine Land Use Regulation Commission approved plan. Plum Creek will still need to get individual developments approved but the rezoning paved the way.
There have been ongoing discussions for over a decade about the future of the northern woods, which is why I decided to make a documentary. The number of land owners in the northern woods has increased dramatically while the size of their land has decreased. Many land owners means the land is less accommodating to wildlife and also compromises Maine’s tradition of recreational public access to private land.
I hope this issue can be framed in a way to start discussions about how to preserve rare, unique forests but also improve local economies and promote further nature based tourism.
If I have learned anything in my many years in Maine it is that everyone values the land as most important resource the state has to offer. Like the Maine license plate says, Maine is “vacationland” but if we are not proactive about maintaining it, it won’t stay that way.

[Sarah is raising money to complete production of the film. To contribute, visit her Kickstarter page.]






Having taken my daughter on a seven-day trip up thi Alagash Wilderness Waterway, I applaud your efforts.
Good luck
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