“What will it be used for?” The “Appalachian Mountain Club” is buying up large swaths of Maine land

When a person – or a nonprofit with a national name – starts buying “large swaths” of Maine woods, David Guildford says people naturally lean in and ask the same question: what’s the plan?

In his report for NEWS CENTER Maine, Guildford focuses on the Appalachian Mountain Club, better known as AMC, which has been steadily buying forestland south of Baxter State Park. He notes that, if you stack up the acres they already control with what they’re trying to add next, the footprint starts to feel enormous – big enough that he compares it to the size of Chicago.

That comparison is the kind that grabs attention, because it triggers an old Maine worry: once land changes hands, locals don’t always get a vote in what comes next.

Maine’s Forest Has Been Sold And Resold For Decades

Guildford says Maine’s forestland ownership has been shifting for years. For decades, pulp and paper companies owned millions of acres for their operations.

Over time, as the industry changed, those lands were sold off “piece by piece” to a mix of individuals, corporations, and conservation groups. Guildford frames it as a reality Mainers are living with now: most of the woods are privately owned, and public access can depend on what the current owner wants.

That matters because Maine’s outdoor culture – hunting, fishing, snowmobiling, hiking – has long relied on land that isn’t technically public, but still feels shared.

So when AMC shows up as a major buyer, it sets off both hope and suspicion at the same time.

AMC’s Maine Footprint Keeps Growing

Guildford describes AMC as the oldest conservation group in the United States, and he points out that 2026 marks its 150th anniversary.

He also reminds viewers that AMC’s Maine land story isn’t brand new. Back in 2013, Guildford says, the station’s Bill Green visited AMC land in the “famed 100 Mile Wilderness” in Piscataquis County and called it “beautiful and precious backcountry.”

Since then, Guildford reports the nonprofit has expanded its territory to roughly 127,000 acres.

And now, it wants to add another major chunk.

The Whitecap Highlands Deal Comes With A Big Price Tag

Guildford says the new project is called the Whitecap Highlands Forest, a 29,500-acre block of wilderness.

The setup behind the acquisition is unusual. According to Guildford, AMC says an anonymous person already bought the land. The deal is essentially a challenge: if AMC can raise $15 million to maintain it, that anonymous owner will donate the land to the nonprofit.

And that’s where the public curiosity spikes. Because fundraising language like “maintain” can mean a lot of different things depending on who’s saying it.

Guildford puts the question bluntly: what will it be used for, and what can Mainers use it for?

A Snowmobile Ride Into The Middle Of The Question

To find out, Guildford doesn’t just call an office and read a press release. He drives to Katahdin Iron Works – about 20 miles north of Milo – and hops on the back of a snowmobile with a man he calls “a stranger.”

That stranger is Steve Tatko, who Guildford identifies as AMC’s vice president of land and conservation.

Tatko also has local roots. He tells Guildford he’s from Willimantic, Maine, which he says sits on the other side of those mountains – about 18 miles away “as the crow flies.” Guildford’s point is clear: this isn’t an out-of-state executive parachuting in for a photo-op. Tatko is describing a landscape he grew up looking at.

Tatko shows Guildford the scale of the property in practical, on-the-ground terms. Standing out on Silver Lake, he points out the West Branch of the Pleasant River and describes the mountain arc – Saddleback through Big Shanty and Big Spruce to the Whitecap peaks.

Tatko tells him: that whole sweep is the Whitecap Highlands Forest.

Why These Acres Matter More Than The Raw Number

Guildford admits the acreage is still “a blip” compared to Maine’s roughly 17 million acres of forestland.

But he explains why these purchases feel bigger than the math.

First, the land is connected – large, continuous, unbroken forest instead of scattered parcels.

Second, Guildford notes AMC’s name isn’t just branding. Some of the final hard miles of the Appalachian Trail cut through this corridor.

Third, the property surrounds Gulf Hagas – often called the “Grand Canyon of Maine,” a landmark people don’t want fenced off behind “private property” signs.

And fourth, Tatko tells Guildford that Atlantic salmon populations are returning to ancient habitats in the Pleasant River system, coming back up through about 100 miles of winding waterways from the mouth of the Penobscot.

That last point is important because it shifts the story from “who owns it” to “what’s happening inside it.” Salmon don’t care about politics, but they do care about water quality, habitat, and how land around rivers is managed.

Public Access Promises, With A Catch

Tatko tells Guildford AMC plans to restore public access as it rebuilds and improves the road network, and he lists the “traditional uses” the land is supposed to support: hunting, fishing, campsites, outdoor recreation.

Guildford also reports AMC has said the land is taxed and will remain open to activities like hiking, hunting, fishing, snowmobiling, and even logging.

That combination – conservation group plus logging – can sound odd if you’re not familiar with how Maine works. But in Maine, a lot of forest management is a balancing act, not a simple “lock it up forever” decision.

Still, Guildford notes one piece of reality: not all of the new section is open to the public yet.

He also adds a practical detail: snowmobile trails already run through a lot of the area, and people could ride through sections of it “tomorrow.”

So in the near term, the woods aren’t being turned into a closed museum. But people are watching to see if the long-term promise matches the long-term practice.

Logging Industry Reaction: “A Delicate Balance”

To measure how this land transfer lands with working Mainers, Guildford talks to Dana Doran, who heads the Professional Logging Contractors of the Northeast and represents about 210 logging companies.

Doran doesn’t come off like a man looking for a fight. He tells Guildford, “It’s not our role to pass judgment.” His main goal, he says, is to “keep forest land as forest land.”

And on that point, Doran gives AMC credit. He calls the organization “a good steward of the property,” saying they’re keeping the land forested.

But he also points out the trade-off. Doran says conservation groups generally don’t harvest as much wood as prior landowners did, because timber production isn’t their first priority.

At the same time, he emphasizes they still manage the land, still produce forest products, and still provide at least some work – he notes one of his member companies is currently working in the Whitecap Highlands Forest, though only one.

That “only one” detail says a lot without screaming. It suggests jobs are possible, but not plentiful, and that the conservation model is different from the old pulp-and-paper model Mainers grew used to.

The Underlying Argument Maine Keeps Having

Guildford ends up circling the same debate he says is happening “endlessly in Augusta and beyond”:

How much land should be harvested?

How much should be trail land?

How much should be left alone?

That argument never really ends because Maine is both a working forest state and an outdoor recreation state. People want jobs, access, and wildness – often in the same breath.

And that’s why AMC’s expansion triggers questions even from people who love conservation. When a group gets bigger, trust has to be earned again and again, not assumed.

Tatko, looking out over the mountains and rivers, tells Guildford the value is being able to experience an “unbroken forest” and have your own meaningful experience in it—something he calls “astounding and irreplaceable.”

That line hits because it’s true, but it’s also fragile. It’s the kind of thing you can lose fast if management goes sideways, or if the public gets pushed out, or if the land becomes more about branding than reality.

For now, Guildford’s reporting suggests AMC is trying to land in the middle: conservation plus access, protection plus traditional uses, forest kept as forest.

But Maine has seen enough ownership changes to know one thing: the paperwork is one thing, and the next twenty years are another.