Southern barbecue in northern Maine doesn’t seem a natural combination at first blush.

But it’s worked for John Freeman.

Three or four days a week, the Westmanland resident takes his Rib Crib Express on the road, bringing his brand of succulent, spicy barbecued meats to the people of northern Aroostook County.

His itinerary is as follows: On either Tuesday or Wednesday, he’s in Caribou; Thursday, Madawaska; Friday, Fort Kent; and Saturday, Presque Isle. He sets up in a parking lot, starts selling around 10 a.m., and continues until the meat he has on board is sold out, usually somewhere between noon and 12:30 p.m.

Freeman would not say how much meat he sells in a given day, but acknowledged, “I make a day’s pay.”

The Rib Crib Express is a black commercial van with barbecue cookers set in the back end and an attached grill that swings out to create an outdoor workspace. Another swing-out table in the back holds the sauce pump and a cash register. The van is emblazoned with a festive logo highlighting the company name and a line of little pink pigs that look like a racing stripe running along the length of the vehicle.

Freeman designed all the equipment himself and had it custom fabricated at a small Presque Isle shop. He preferred not to discuss the equipment or setup in much detail, explaining that what went into it was “tens of thousands of dollars, thousands of hours in designing and fabricating, and many years of [research and development], not to mention hundreds of sleepless nights.”

“It’s not been an easy road; it still isn’t. … I’ve worked very hard to design something special. I love the people, the food, the idea of creating something from nothing,” Freeman said.

He works year-round, depending on the weather. His van even has a built-in canopy to keep the raindrops or snowflakes off his work space.

“Fall is the busiest time,” said the 43-year-old. “It’s cooler, and appetites increase. It slows down in winter, but as long as it’s not too windy, people line up in winter just like they do in summer.”

He recalled being out in July with the temperature in the upper 90s and in February when the mercury dropped to 36 below zero. The line of customers was longer in February.

Freeman keeps the menu simple. The most popular item is the St. Louis spare ribs, trimmed to remove the brisket bone and much of the fat. A full rack sells for $15, a half-rack for $8, and a quarter-rack for $5. Pulled pork, made from pork shoulder, is $15 for an extra-large tub, $9 for a large tub and $5 for a small tub. The barbecue chicken is $5 for a full breast and $3 for a half-breast. The meats come from a variety of distributors, with much of the pork coming from the Midwest. All are topped with Freeman’s special sauce, which is sweet with a delayed spicy kick.

He is quick to point out the differences between barbecuing and grilling.

“Barbecuing is cooking non-processed meats for an extended period of time over low heat, using cookers and smokers,” he said. “Grilling is cooking meat over high temperature for a short period of time.”

While some consumers might fear trichinosis from insufficiently cooked pork, Freeman said the pork he serves is always safe, despite the pink coloring that is evident.

“The smoking process creates the pinkness,” he added. “The real test is how easily the meat falls from the bone.”

The Fort Kent native said he grew up with outdoor cooking. His father would take the kids hunting, then build a fire in the woods, cooking up some kind of meat.

Freeman went away to school, became an optician and spent 14 years working for national optical chains in greater Boston. It was there that he first learned to appreciate barbecue.

When he returned to the St. John Valley in 1991, he was ready for a change, and seven years ago, he decided to pursue the Rib Crib idea.

“I had had enough of corporate life and was looking for something different,” he said. “I decided Aroostook County needed barbecue.”

For 21/2 years, Freeman kept a storefront in Caribou, while going on the road as well. Eventually he decided that mobile was the way to go.

“The food business is an extremely difficult business to make a profit in,” he said. “That’s why I’ve been leery about a permanent location, a staff and all the associated expenses.”

By showing up only once a week at each location, Freeman benefits from the law of supply and demand. “That way, it’s a special event when I show up in town,” he said.

If the turnout on a recent fall day in Madawaska was any indication, Freeman’s strategy is working, as the small vacant lot on Main Street was filled with customers from when he opened about 10 a.m. to when he ran out around 12:15 p.m.

The meat gets slow-cooked for hours in large trailer-sized cookers at Freeman’s home. It arrives at that day’s sale site about 90 percent done, then he finishes it on the grill over a hardwood charcoal fire. The smell can be picked up blocks away and serves as fragrant advertising.

His meat doesn’t have the smoky taste that some associate with barbecue.

“I don’t use a lot of smoke when I’m doing slow cooking,” Freeman said. “I found that it’s not received as well. People enjoy light smoke so that the flavor of the meat is highlighted.”

Freeman estimated that 85 to 90 percent of his patrons are repeat customers, and this got borne out on this day, as he greeted many by name.

One regular is Paul Cyr, who developed a hankering for barbecue over 23 years working for the government down south.

“I get it whenever I see him,” Cyr said. “It’s great to retire to my hometown and find great barbecue. He can compete with anyone in the country.”

Alan (who declined to give his last name) picks up Freeman’s barbecue on his trips up from Bangor each week.

“It’s better than the ones on the coast,” he said. “It’s the way he cooks them, and the sauce.”

Garold Fongemie is a barbecue convert who visits Freeman each week.

“I tried it, and from the first time, I’ve enjoyed it,” he said. “The flavor is just good.”

The customers are what Freeman enjoys the most.

“I see the same people over and over,” he said. “Anyone from the south, they make a point to stop in.”

Freeman fielded each order, nimbly slicing the ribs or chicken, or scooping the pulled pork, and placing each into foil containers. A few squirts of his savory sauce (which he sells by the pint) finished each dish.

At the same time, he religiously flipped meat on the grill.

“It goes from done to overdone in no time,” he said.

The secret to Freeman’s success is juggling many tasks at the same time.

“It’s focus,” he said. “You have to pay attention to all the dynamics going on – the cooker, the fire, the timing, customers’ needs. You have to do things efficiently with speed. That takes practice, and a commitment to the delivery of the product.”

While Freeman is on the road, his wife Mary is at home, monitoring the meat in the cookers there.

“That keeps the pressure off me while I’m out doing this,” he said.

Although he doesn’t advertise it, Freeman also does some catering, adding baked beans, collard greens and cornbread to the menu. He admits he’s ambivalent about catering.

“With what I do daily, there’s a certain amount of routine,” he said. “Catering is very customized and requires a lot of preparation and pressure. It feels like working for someone else.”

In Madawaska, the meat ran out before the customers. Freeman could undoubtedly sell more, but chooses not to.

“As things have evolved, I’ve learned what my capabilities are and what the potential of any town is, so I don’t have any extra, and end up staying around longer to sell everything,” he said. “There’s a lot that goes on before I get here and a lot that goes on after I leave. It’s a long day [roughly 6 a.m.-5 p.m.], which is why I don’t stay in a town longer.”

He has considered expansion but is cautious about it, as he enjoys selling to the people in the smaller markets.

Freeman said his barbecue remains a work in progress, as he seeks “that perfect balance of sweet and heat.”