All deer seasons have now ended, and snow still lies deep in the woods, but for some landowners the spectre of trespassers to their land still remains like a bad odor that never goes away.
Tire tracks, now buried under snow, were as obvious as a train wreck on my woods trail. I hadn’t made them that day so it meant someone had been trespassing or poaching on my land.
I followed the tracks for 200 yards into my woods, and then they ended. A vehicle had come that far and left. It was easy to see where it had been parked, and nearby was an empty cigarette package and a candy bar wrapper.
Trespass, like serious cancer, continues until action is taken to stop it.
I continued down my two-track another 200 yards before stumbling over something in the leaf-covered trail. Autumn leaves covered the trail, and I kicked around to remove what I’d tripped over and uncovered a mound of illegal sugar beets.
I felt like a detective searching for evidence. My gaze went to the nearby trees, and 20 yards away was a ladder stand. It wasn’t mine so I climbed the stand, unhooked it from the tree, and twisted it free. It was either a very cheap stand that bent easily or my anger made me stronger than I realized, but the ladder got twisted like a pretzel.
A note was left at the site. It said “If you want your ladder stand back, stop at the first house to the east at noon.”
The trespasser pulled into my driveway at noon.
A truck pulled into my driveway in timely fashion, and I didn’t recognize it. A man got out, walked up to the door, and I met him. He’d come to claim his tree stand.
He said he had put up the stand for his son who was living with other people nearby. I asked him why he used my two-track as a parking spot while he trespassed.
“I didn’t know it was private,” he whined. “I’m sorry.”
He was told that he had purposely driven past two No Trespassing signs near the road, but he claimed ignorance. He said he didn’t see them.
“Do you want your ladder stand back?” I asked. He said he did.
I wanted proof of who he was and where he was from. He argued.
“Let me see your drivers license. I need some information, and once I have what is needed I’ll return the stand.”
“Why should I show you my license,” he argued.
“If you don’t, you won’t get your stand back. I’ll walk outside before you can back out of my driveway, and write down your license plate letters and numbers. Then I’ll let the police track you down. That will work for me. How does that suit you?”
“C’mon, man, I don’t want any problem with the police.”
“Give me your drivers license, and don’t call me ‘man’ again. I’ll write down the information, and then give you your stand. But first, a warning: if you are caught on my land again, I will go to the police. If I find your truck on my land I’ll flatten all four tires to keep you here until the police arrive. Do we understand each other? Is all of this clear enough for you?”
It was, and he complied with my request for his license, and I returned his bent ladder stand. I haven’t seen him since, and don’t want to.
Trespass is one of the most common problems that landowners face. People sneak onto private land, put up tree stands, screw in tree steps, and figure they can get away with it. It is illegal to trespass on another person’s property without permission.
No part of this or any other state is completely free of trespassers.
Sadly, trespass is a misdemeanor and few trespass cases wind up being prosecuted. The prosecuting attorney and staff is too busy dealing with armed robberies, burglaries, embezzlement, home invasion, murder, rape and other more serious crimes. They seldom handle a trespass case unless it is a part of a more serious crime.
Sadly, what seems an easy situation for the prosecuting attorney’s office to handle, can leave the landowner twisting in the wind. Is it fair? No, but it’s a fact. This leaves the landowner feeling helpless and used by the system and the trespasser. It’s difficult to get police to the scene of a trespass problem in time to take any immediate action. Often, the landowner must handle the problem alone, and this is not always a wise decision.
Trespass is only one problem. Two others often include littering and property damage.
Years ago several friends and I leased 640 acres near Harrison for deer and turkey hunting. On opening day of the firearm deer season we encountered a stranger in the woods. He wasn’t dressed in blaze orange, and we asked what he was doing.
This gent was antagonistic and surly. He wanted to know who we were.
“We lease this land,” I told him. “You are trespassing and will have to leave.”
A typical trespasser’s argument.
“I’ve hunted this land for 40 years and will continue to hunt it,” he said, with grit in his voice. “You can lease it but I plan to continue hunting here. If you call the police, I’ll set fire to the woods. You’ll never prove I did it.”
He left, and we bumped into him again later. He threatened to fight all three of us, and the last thing we needed from a lease was to fight with a cranky neighbor. We finally gave up the lease for apparent reasons.
A doctor who requests anonymity bought 400 acres of land in the northern Lower Peninsula, built a nice log cabin and barn, and began planting food plots for wildlife. He soon encountered a trespasser, and went to talk and politely asked him to leave.
“I’ll leave this time but I’ll be back and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he said. “My daddy grew up in this area and so did I, and I’ve always hunted one specific spot on the border of your property and I’ll continue to hunt it whether you like it or not.
“Put the police on me and I’ll sugar up the gas tank of your brand-new tractor. If that doesn’t educate you, I’ll burn down your barn. If that doesn’t work I’ll burn down your fancy log cabin. However, I am a reasonable man.”
By now the doctor was terrified, and asked what “reasonable” meant.
“Give me written permission to hunt my one spot on the corner of your land, and I’ll be the best caretaker you’ll ever have. Poachers and other trespassers know who I am, and I’ll keep everyone else away from your house, barn and farm equipment. I won’t hunt if you have a bunch of company, but I won’t allow anyone to hunt my stand.”
“How do I know you’ll do as you say,” the doctor stammered. “What guarantees do I have?”
“There are no guarantees. It’s a simple deal. Give me my one place to hunt, and I’ll keep everyone else off your land. You live up to your end of the deal and I’ll live up to mine. Trust me, you don’t need me as your enemy. I’m just a little bit crazy.”
So he cut a deal with the devil. He honored the agreement and has had no problems even though his cabin and land is in a remote part of the state, off a dirt road with no close neighbors except for his new caretaker. No one has broke into his cottage, sugared his gas tank or burned down his barn.
Not many trespasser will work out such deals. They come and go until caught, and if anything happens, they get a naughty-boy slap on the wrist and are turned loose with a minor fine. Some may retaliate. Most do not, but they may return to trespass again.
Land is tight in the Lower Peninsula, and as more farms are sold and subdivided, the acreage where people could once hunt has shrunk. It becomes a situation of the haves and have-nots. Those who own land worry about the have-nots trespassing on it.
There has been a few cases of physical violence over the years although most such actions have involved snowmobilers. It seldom comes to that with sportsmen.
However, the thought of trespass is never far away. What does the future hold?
It’s a difficult question to answer. The most obvious concern among landowners is the threat of increased trespass cases. That also brings to mind the possibility of retaliation.
Several people I know have made friends with the local Sheriffs Department deputies, and offer them a chance to hunt their land in return for them running people off. Others invite Michigan State Police officers to fill the same role. It eliminates the need for the owners to physically confront trespassers.
Should such actions be necessary? If we lived in a perfect world, it wouldn’t be but this is not a perfect world nor are all of our citizens nice people. The perfect world would allow for a jail sentence for repeat offenders and something far more substantial than a wrist slap and a small fine and court costs.
The perfect world would teach trespassers to stay on their own land or hunt federal or state land. That obviously doesn’t work in today’s society, and violence on behalf of the landowner only exacerbates the problem.
Solving this issue takes time, proper legislation, solid law enforcement, landowner cooperation and a court system that will address the issue of property rights while administering justice and punishment in a swift manner. One can only hope that day soon comes.
