Early each spring, Jim Carter recalls, his father often made pilgrimages to the camp he loved on Munsungan Stream.

“As soon as it would warm up a bit, and the snow was gone, he’d say, ‘I’m going to go in and watch the green climb Norway.'”

For those who’ve never visited Jim Carter at Munsungan Fish and Game Club – he opened his father’s old cabin as a sporting camp back in 1998 – that phrase likely sounds puzzling.

Those who have fallen under Munsungan’s spell- men like Jimmy Spellman of Masardis – ‘watching green climb Norway’ makes perfect sense.

Sit for a spell in front of the main camp, the one that sits just above one of the most beautiful stream pools you’ll ever find, and it will make sense to you, too.

“Munsungan is a state of mind,” says Spellman, a frequent visitor. “It really is. It’s a magical place.”

So sit down for a bit. Look off to the right … and enjoy the green of Norway.

See that mountain, the lush, colorful one standing sentinel over Little Munsungan?

That’s Norway Bluff. And the green climbing Norway? That was just Ray Carter’s way of saying he wanted to be here, in camp, when the area finally shook off the insults of another harsh winter and the foliage began to slowly creep up that pretty little bluff.

Ray Carter died here, his son tells you, speaking as softly as he ever will. Jim Carter says that when his time is up, his ashes will be scattered here, too.

“I get choked up just talking about it,” he says. “[Dad] told his cousin about two weeks before he died, ‘If I’m lucky I’ll die at camp with Jim.'”

Ray Carter would have been 87 that fall. Jim Carter found his dad sitting in a favorite rocking chair, his hand resting on his English setter’s head.

Ray Carter had been dead for four or five hours, his son recounts.

And his loyal dog never moved.

Carter’s Munsungan Hunting and Fishing Club is about 40 miles via Ashland, 90 miles if you drive from Medway, and about a million miles from the worries and problems of your own home or office.

The woods are thick, the pace is slow, and the host is … well, crusty probably works as well as any other adjective you’ll find.

And each year, more and more people are deciding to head into the Maine woods and spend a few days enjoying, as one sporting supplier called it, “The Jim Carter Show.”

“It’s the location. It isn’t me,” Carter says. “I cook late, bitch at my guests. It’s the location and the aesthetics of the camp [that draws them], and they have to put up with me to get it. That’s what I tell ’em.”

Carter is comfortable in a crowd … or by himself in the middle of the woods. He loves to hunt and fish, but would just as soon lean back in a chair, re-light his pipe for the 20th time and recite his favorite Robert Service poetry.

Sit around his wood stove, and you’re as apt to end up debating politics or learning the history of the Maine woods as you are telling fishing stories or debating the merits of various streamer flies.

“You are a neophyte,” he booms, only half in jest, when mention of one of his favorite outdoor authors elicits raised eyebrows. “I can see I’ve got to put together a reading list for you.”

Ray Carter and some friends had the camp built back in 1938, and Jim learned to love the place early on.

Jim grew up in Washburn, got into farming, and when his seed potato business began to struggle in the 1990s, he changed course and headed into the woods.

“I walked out [of the potato business] with my shirt and a little bit [of money],” he says. “Both kids were out of college, and my biggest responsibility was feeding two dogs.”

There was no road into the club at that point. Carter built one. By 1998, his permit allowed him to take in 10 commercial guests at a time.

To Carter, turning the place into a sporting camp seemed a perfect idea.

“I can say that people have been hunting and fishing here for 10,000 years, because we’ve dug [artifacts that prove it],” Carter says.

Guests began to show up. They fished Munsungan Lake and Little Munsungan, and fell in love with the stream itself. They kept coming back.

Today there are two camps for guests and one main lodge that Carter stays in. And business has never been better.

“Now I’m taking in more money in some weeks than I took in that first year,” Carter says. “And 68 percent of my guests [this year], from the start until the first of July, are repeats or are coming with repeats.”

That was the case earlier this week, as Spellman, a “repeat” brought some other friends in. Bruce Gullifer of Scarborough had been here before, but Eric Day of Bangor hadn’t. Jamie Higgins of Bangor filled out the fishing party.

Day says that he had fished Munsungan before, and had been hearing stories about Carter for years.

And that’s why he was in camp.

“That’s part of the whole thing for me,” Day says. “His stories, the tradition, more than catching fish.”

But make no mistake about one thing: The good-natured Carter runs a (somewhat) tight ship (sometimes). And if you travel to Munsungan Hunting & Fishing Club, you’re entering his domain.

His stories will stretch on and lead seamlessly into the next (but he’ll listen just as curiously when you tell yours). The meals may come a bit later than you expect. And if you sit at his dinner table with your hat on … well, let’s just say you won’t be wearing it for long.

Carter bakes pies or cookies each day (“Cakes will sit there and go moldy, but everyone loves pie,” he says), and sometimes guides as well.

But despite juggling countless tasks – there are no other employees here and Carter is literally the chef, head guide and chief bottle washer – everything eventually works out just fine.

And the more flexible the guests, the more fun they’ll have.

Case-in-point: Carter believes that fishing is a lot of fun. But he also believes that there’s much more to life than that.

Munsungan has fish. But it has much, much more … if you’re willing to notice it.

Some evenings, when the fishing’s slow, or the guests are adventurous, Carter asks them if they really, truly want to continue trolling … or if they’re up for other options.

Often, they agree with their guide: It might be time to pull in the lines and do something different.

“I call it ‘chasing the sunset,’ Carter says, a smile beginning to form. “We start in the stream and head up the lake, and we just chase that sunset to the other end of Munsungan.”

Deep in the Maine woods, after all the green has climbed Norway, and after plenty of fish have been caught, that’s not a bad way to spend the final minutes of daylight.

Many of his guests realize that.

“When you sit in a canoe and observe Norway Bluff and the mountains, it’s almost difficult to explain to someone unless they’ve seen it,” Spellman says. “It’s just that special.”

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.