Like my father before me, I place a high value on time spent outdoors, particularly on the rivers, lakes and mountains in the Maine woods. “Pop” took seriously Thoreau’s words “in Wildness is the preservation of the World.” He climbed Katahdin long before I was born and introduced me to the North Woods back in the 1950s when I turned 10. We began taking camping and fishing trips on Moosehead Lake. As a boy, I saw Moosehead more like an ocean than a lake. I recall days waiting for winds to die down, holed up at magical campsites with names like Big Duck Cove and Donut Cove.

Back then Moosehead campsites were equipped with wooden boxes mounted shoulder-height to a tree. Stored behind the latched door were the essentials: dry matches, beans, Dinty Moore stew. Should an unfortunate party be stranded, they could find warmth and sustenance until rescue. The box was a reminder of the importance of taking precautions, and also taught me people could count on each other in a pinch. My young imagination worked overtime conjuring up shipwrecked parties struggling to swim ashore and reach the box. Robinson Crusoe leapt to mind.

A half-century ago, had Pop described Moosehead as a “wilderness” lake, I would have believed him. He actually called it “getting away from it all.” The “it” was the corporate rat race – and the relentless inner race, the unending strivings of a gifted over-achiever.

In 10 days on Moosehead we might encounter one or two parties. It was remote, solitary. I easily took to roughing it, with the exception of mosquitoes on windless nights. As for food, Pop produced wonderful feasts served under ancient white pines. My principal daily chore was gathering firewood from the abundant stray pulp logs along the shore.

At the end of another adventurous day, as the embers of the campfire and Pop’s pipe glowed, it was time for me to pack it in. Lying on fir boughs, a young camper was lulled to sleep by serenading loons. I slept well on Moosehead Lake. And to this day I sleep best after a long day’s paddle, a good meal and conversation around a fire on the Allagash. My children too are banking memories of trips down the Allagash, St. John, West Branch and Machias rivers. Because these special places have largely been preserved through state purchases and conservation easements, I can look forward to introducing them to my grandchildren.

While some extraordinary lands have been preserved, Mainers risk of losing significant and still unprotected recreational assets as “trophy” second homes dot the landscape. A sea change in ownership of the North Woods threatens access to remote rivers, lakes and ponds. That’s why voters in every county have consistently supported the Land for Maine’s Future Program. If we want to preserve access to waterfront and woodlands we need to own them in common, and keep them in good condition for future generations.

The pressure is mounting. As America’s population grows to 400 million souls by 2050, open space will undoubtedly be sacrificed to development. The greatest threat to our outdoor recreation and ecological resources is poorly placed development.

It will happen, and is happening already. Land prices for second-home development far exceeds the value of working woodlands. And investment company owners seek higher returns for stockholders, selling waterfront property a whatever price the market will bear.

We’re not making any more land. But the economy has produced many millionaires. Companies like Plum Creek whose business model combines woodland management with development will continue to propose high-end “camp” developments. Newspapers have described its 970-lot subdivision, trailer park and resort complex near Moosehead Lake as the largest in Maine’s history. Another developer is planning 130 lots on Burnt Jacket Mountain. These won’t be the last.

As demand for waterfront property continues, developers will convert woodlands to exclusive subdivisions. At the same time we see a growing interest from Mainers and visitors alike in remote, quiet, contact with nature. Maine’s future economy and quality of life will be the richer and better for efforts to preserve open space through the Land for Maine’s Future Program. I urge my fellow citizens to let their legislators know you strongly support a new public land bond.

Anthropologist Lewis Mumford said he was a pessimist about probabilities and an optimist about possibilities. Surely there is much to worry about. But when it comes to Maine’s future, working together, I’m optimistic we will preserve and enhance our priceless outdoor recreational resources. It’s an investment we cannot put off.

Rep. Ted Koffman is serving his third term in the Maine Legislature. He lives in Bar Harbor.