Oh, there's cops in the woods in Maine. They're called "Game Wardens."
And they are the meanest, nastiest sons-of-bitches you will ever meet.
I have family from way back that were Game Wardens, my Grampa was a Maine Guide, I have a dear friend who is a guide and a writer, my granddaughter is dating Game Warden and I have another long time friend that spent 30 years a Maine Warden - great wildlife artist and now writes a column on his days as a warden.
His stories are hilarious - yes, they can seem mean and nasty - indeed some are! But they can also run into some mean and nasty - and dangerous - characters in the woods...
The Game Wardens in Maine enjoy remarkable police powers, and though I've never tangled with them, people who have tell some incredible stories.
I've never gotten in trouble with a warden, but I sure made one angry.
In Maine it is illegal, as in many states, to hunt on Sunday. So hunters will, if they're smart, leave all guns in camp when out in the woods on Sunday. Hunting out of a deep, north-woods camp some buddies and I were out scouting for sign on a Sunday. We were miles from a road, hadn't seen anyone since we arrived and were investigating where we should go the next day. While walking down a drag lane we saw a warden, 50 yds. below us, coming up hill. He continued by us without saying a word until he got to the point above us where we had first seen him.
He beat the woods on both sides of the trail up and down for at least 15 minutes. He was convinced we had been hunting illegally and "knew" we had stashed guns in the brush when we first saw him.
He was redfaced, bursting with anger, couldn't even talk to us he was so mad. I was never sure if he was angry at us or more angry with himself for his failure to find our non-existent rifles.
It was a close encounter with a crazy, out-of-control LEO.