By Paul Sylvain

Anyone who spends time in the Maine woods hiking, fishing, or hunting knows that the experience can be almost spiritual, especially if your normal workday gig confines you to the concrete canyons and asphalt-covered fields of Boston. Don’t get me wrong. There’s a lot to like about Beantown, but walking the Public Garden and Boston Common aren’t quite the same thing as trekking through the woodlands of downeast Washington County, Maine.

For one thing, the streets of Boston with their muggers, gang members, and thieves are probably more dangerous than Maine’s woods—there just isn’t much that can kill you in Maine. It is one of just two states without poisonous snakes and where bobcats tend to be reclusive. I’ve stumbled on an occasional black bear alongside the Blacks Woods Road, where towns in the so-called “unorganized territories” have numbers and not names, but the bears always dropped and retreated.

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