Backwoods Blog

HUNTING TRIP

Backwoods Blog;

in the woods and on the road…

Hunting season in the North Woods has a long and storied history and Harvey Siding in Monticello is one of the legendary locations in the state. Camps were built on leased land from local paper companies and were located along the north branch of the Meduxnekeag River and westerly all the way to St. Croix Lake. As I’ve mentioned before, my father wasn’t much of a hunter, but he certainly enjoyed trips to the woods and he usually ended up being the camp cook when he did. And for whatever reason, besides having no use for instruction manuals, I also never saw him look at a map. He used to say he kept a mental map in his head and that he had a good sense of direction. Both of these assertions have been contested by co-travelers, woods companions and his wife. Here is a woods story offering early evidence of my father’s direction-challenged reputation. This story appears in the Lowry Family History written by Keith Lowry. My father’s oldest sister, Alta, married William (Bill) Lowry in 1919 and they had five children; Louise, Alexander, Keith, Marie and Arlene. This story was written by Dad’s nephew, Keith, and the hunting trip mentioned occurred (around) 1941.

Hunting Trips by Keith S. Lowry

What there is about the woods, especially in the fall, during the hunting season, is difficult to explain. The only thing I can tell you is that once you have gone hiking or hunting a few times, it seems to get into your blood. So, I guess if you have experienced the woods in the fall, you will know what it is that I am talking about. I would like to reminisce for a little while and try to put on paper some of the experiences I have had in the woods while hunting and of some of the great hunting pals I have been with doing these times. I guess the only place to begin is at the beginning, or at least as far back as I can remember. My father and his hunting pals built a long cabin (I believe in the year 1936) mainly for the purposes of getting away for awhile and for hunting and fishing. The location of the cabin is on Township C, and to this day is still standing. It seems like it enjoys having hunters and visitors come in. 

After some casual thinking, I guessed that the first time that I made it into this cabin was about the time I was in sixth grade. I wanted to go much before this, but I could never seem to convince the elders that I was ready for such a trip. It was about a 10 or 12 mile hike in there on foot, but I was still wild to take the trip. I can’t remember all of the details or just how I managed to get two or three days off from school but, anyway, I did succeed. Probably from difficult negotiations. Anyway, we started for camp early in the morning. I recall very well that it was a cloudy, cold day. I forget just how we got up to Harvey Siding; probably someone drove us at least that far. I was with my older brother Alexander and George Hutchinson.

At that particular time, near to the railroad, were several hunting camps whose owners I have now forgotten. As a young boy, I wondered why these people ever built hunting camps so close to civilization, when, with a little effort, they could go way back in the woods where there are more mysteries and game, that which I had so often heard the older folks talk about. In a very short time, I would have some answers about those deep, dark and exciting forests. Well, finally, we walked across the Bangor and Aroostook railroad tracks and into the real ‘Maine Woods’ as it was called. From then on, I expected most anything might happen. Perhaps, I had some second thoughts, but I was sure my brother Alexander knew about the woods, and how to get along alright. George, I wasn’t too sure about him, but he was fun to be with.

It seemed that we travelled on and on along the woods road. As I remember, we would occasionally come to places of interest, or perhaps to an old hunting camp. I would hear some of the history of that particualr spot or camp. I do recall we stopped for lunch and rested for a short time. This was a treat even at this time of day. Well, as the afternoon wore on, it seemed that we must have been miles into the forest by now. I think I wondered at times if these fellows really were sure of the trails and the way to camp. At this time of fall, the leaves were all down and the woods were very quiet. You could hear now and then a rifle shot and it made me wonder what they might be shooting at. All this time, of course, the day is running by and it won’t be too long before darkness. Why worry about it…these fellows know where they are going! I made up my mind that I wouldn’t show any concern or the like, because, if I did, maybe I wouldn’t get here again. So either way was fine with me. 

But darkness began to creep in on the forest and, I tell you, things started to get mysterious. I would occasionally ask my brother, “How much farther? and he would say, “A long ways yet.” I said nothing. The amusing thing in this little story is that my Uncle George didn’t know where the camp was any more than I did, which I didn’t find out until later years. Probably George was wondering like I was — “How much further is it to this camp?”

We were sure in the Maine Woods a great distance now, and would never make it back to the clearing to home this day. We finally went through a trail down over a little ridge and came to a little cabin snuggled up in the woods. There was a dim light inside, smoke coming from the pipe, and a few low voices inside. We finally thought we’d made it, but my brother said no. We asked him who the camp belonged to and he told us, but it was not the family hunting camp. At this point, I really wondered just how much more we must walk. Maybe we were on the wrong trail after all. My brother said he would go in and ask about hunting and say ‘hello’ to them. He asked if we wanted to come in. George said he didn’t know the bunch and wanted no part of it. He would wait outside and sit on a log.

Of course, it was pitch dark by now. I decided to go in and see just what was going on in there — what the place looked like, and who was in there. Well, anyway, in we went and to my surprise, there was the gang — my Uncle Perry Jones, Austin Jones, my father, and perhaps another man whose name I can’t remember. I can see it still; the old log cabin, the kerosene lamps, and a type of coziness that can only be expressed when you’ve experienced it yourself. The idea of supper really did sound good to me, and before I knew it I was at the big table, and eating like a king. Oh, yes. George is still outside sitting! Alexander mentioned that perhaps he’d better go bring him in. 

Out he went, but George is still not ready to come in and meet this crew. But Alex said that they want us to have a lunch with them before we went on our way. George finally agreed and came in the camp. When he realized what was going on, I’ll tell you, he had a few choice words. But it was all in fun. Did those old bunks feel some good that night after a real good supper…

In the woods,

Dave

October 19, 2022