HONOR THE PAST. INSPIRE THE FUTURE. 

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It would seem that each of us carries a place within the boundaries of this great state that transcends our own lives—a place that shapes us, grounds us, and quietly defines who we are.

One such place is Penobscot Lake, in the far northwestern reaches of Somerset County. It is a place of reflection and meaning, set within the stillness of water and the vast silence of the surrounding woods.

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Penobscot Lake is remarkable in its own right—one of the few waters in Maine that still holds a native population of Blueback Trout. But what first drew our attention was a relic along its shoreline: the weathered wooden hull of a 1930s steamboat, a quiet remnant of the great log drives that once defined the region. That vessel became the entry point into a deeper line of inquiry, not about the vessel itself, but the men and women tasked with its operation and how their exploits shaped the physical, social, economic, and even political landscapes of their time. 

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Enter Edouard Lacroix.

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A Quebec-born entrepreneur, Lacroix came to Maine in 1919 and left an indelible mark on the North Woods. He raised the level of Portage Lake in Quebec by twelve feet and engineered a system to sluice logs across the border approximately 6/10 of a mile to the northwestern shore of Penobscot Lake. He played a central role in the construction of Churchill Dam, built roads, moved bridges, and employed thousands of men each year. His legacy remains visible across the landscape from Allagash to Greenville and beyond.

At first glance, it may not be immediately clear how Lacroix’s story connects to the foundation of this organization. But it was never the activity itself that mattered—it was the people behind it, and the lasting imprint of their ambition and resolve. That realization became the basis for a broader pursuit: to identify, document, and preserve the individuals who defined Maine’s outdoor identity.  

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From there, the search widened, and the interest grew deeper.

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Names like Fred Goodwin and Bud Leavitt, Carrie Stevens, and Dr. Herb Sanborn came into focus. So too did the broader historical record—Theodore Roosevelt’s visits to Bible Point on the Mattawamkeag River in 1878, and Herbert Hoover’s time spent fishing the Rangeley Lakes Region decades later. Also coming into focus was the remarkable and often overlooked history of Maine’s most iconic deer: Goodwin’s 1949 buck, the likely world record at the time; Hill Gould’s 1910 record non-typical; Flora Campbell’s 1953 buck—the highest scoring deer ever killed by a woman; and Horace Hinkley’s 355-pound buck in 1955, long considered the heaviest of its day.   

 

While Individual achievements—record fish, first ascents, landmark hunts, or standout moments in the field—certainly have their place in the state’s outdoor history, it was the careers in outdoor communication, conservation leadership, guiding, writing, and education that captured our attention the most. These are the roles that transform isolated moments into a shared cultural identity, as evidenced by the lives of Wilmot Robinson and George Smith, among many others. 

 

We live in a time when history is increasingly vulnerable—where facts blur and legacies risk being lost. Maine’s outdoor heritage deserves preservation, promotion, and renewed appreciation.

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Now, 26 years after first becoming familiar with the legacy of Edouard Lacroix, this effort has taken shape in a formal way. The Maine Outdoor Hall of Fame provides a platform where local and regional figures can be recognized and elevated for their contributions to the outdoor community, and building a space that serves the broader outdoor community and preserves its history for generations to come.

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The hope is that this effort will grow into something enduring—something synonymous not only with accomplishment, but with the continued strengthening of Maine’s outdoor tradition. 

 

With your support, we believe it will.