The changing ownership of the state's northern forest -- from paper companies to investment groups and real estate developers -- has spurred a frenzy of conservation deals over the past decade in Maine. Those deals have largely preserved the traditional access for hunting, fishing, paddling and hiking that Mainers enjoyed for the last century on lands that were privately owned.

Just in the last five years, the amount of privately conserved land in the state grew by an astonishing 1,156 percent, from 136,712 acres to 1.72 million. According to the national Land Trust Alliance, that growth put Maine in the top ranks of land conservation in the country. And it wasn't just the working forest that was preserved; among land conserved this past year is a stunning coastal tract in Phippsburg, one of the state's largest undeveloped shoreline properties.

Yet all are not happy in the conservation Eden that Maine has become. During the last legislative session, snowmobilers and hunters angrily protested the terms of the state's acquisition of the Katahdin Lake parcel. That land, to the east of Mount Katahdin, was the missing piece in Percival Baxter's vision for the park he assembled; as a proposed addition to the park, the tract would not be open for hunting or motorized access. And that was seen by snowmobilers, hunters and ATV users as an abandonment of Maine tradition as well as a slap in the face to their communities. As far as they were concerned, the state of Maine shouldn't spend a dime on land that excluded them.

The state eventually acquired Katahdin Lake, but the conflict was ugly and set the stage for more to come. Similar ugly eruptions -- fueled by the powerful alliance forged by hunters and snowmobilers -- threaten to happen again and again as the state contemplates further spending on land conservation.

If motorized access isn't included in state-funded conservation deals, there's going to be trouble, says Maine Snowmobile Association head Bob Meyers. "There's a lot of us out there that are very concerned," Meyers told the Portland Press Herald this week. "A lot of projects are starting to appear to be an ecological reserve for the sake of eliminating certain types of access, and that's not right."

Or take this question on the Sportsman's Alliance of Maine (SAM) political action committee questionnaire for legislative candidates this past election: "This year the legislature approved the Katahdin Lake purchase ... with a ban on hunting, trapping and snowmobiling. SAM opposed that ban while supporting the purchase. Never before has a project banned traditional uses. That's the wrong approach ... did you or do you support the Katahdin Lake project which banned hunting and snowmobiling on 4,000 acres?" And the next question: "Would you oppose acquisitions of public land that exclude hunting and trapping in the future?"

This legislative session SAM is supporting a number of bills that relate to the conflict. One would establish the principle of "no net loss" of public land open to hunting, prohibiting the closing of public lands to hunting unless an equal amount of public land was newly opened. Another bill would require two-thirds legislative approval for state acceptance of new donated land -- which, if passed, would guarantee to make land conservation into a political football. Yet another would create a commission to study the use of public lands.

All these are the opening salvos in what is shaping up as a political and cultural struggle over the face of Maine's conserved lands. We're sorry to see these signs, as we believe that in this huge state of ours, there's more than enough land for everyone to be able to have the experience they want in the outdoors.

And we're worried that such battles, while unnecessary, will nonetheless divert Maine's leaders from the real and important work that needs to be done. The truth is that the use of Maine's lands for hunting and fishing is diminishing, while the so-called non-consumptive users -- the ecotourists, the wildlife watchers, the outdoor recreationists who want to cross-country ski and hike -- are a growing economic force. Maine's public policy regarding conservation has traditionally bowed deeply and often unilaterally to the desires of hunters, fishermen and the motorized access lobby. State leaders need to adjust policy now to accommodate the growth in other kinds of users.

We are largely in sympathy with desires to keep land open to hunting. It's the insistence on full access for engine-powered transportation on publicly-conserved land that is problematic. Many hunters, snowmobilers and ATV users want to be able to use machines in the outdoors. Many hikers, wildlife watchers and nature lovers want a quiet experience, minus machines.

Given that the vast majority of large conservation easements acquired with and without public funds during the last decade allowed motorized public access where it previously existed, we're hard-pressed to understand why groups like SAM and the Snowmobilers' Association are quite so alarmed. Is the door being shut on their way of life, or simply being opened for other kinds of use? What is it about sharing this state that they don't understand?

We fail to see how using public funds to acquire land where motorized use is limited, for example, constitutes an abandonment of Maine traditions. For many decades, those traditions -- hunting, fishing, trapping -- were accomplished without the internal combustion engine. They still can be. Let's face it: While it's not hard for motorized users of the outdoors to do what they want in the presence of non-motorized users, the converse is not the case. If you want to be in the wild for the peace and quiet, the wildlife and the solitude, that's unlikely to happen with ATVs roaring around, scattering wildlife in their wake. And furthermore: ATVs are, frankly, a scourge upon much of the landscape.

They can cause erosion, ruin water quality, destroy trails; their use damages resources into which we've already invested public funds. Their range must be limited.

In a state that has an ebbing population of hunters -- and an increasing number of wildlife watchers, hikers, anglers and paddlers that want to use its resources -- diversifying the possible uses on our conserved lands strikes us as good economic sense, not discrimination.

We urge the state's conservation officials and lawmakers to be guided in their actions by the proven biological principle that a healthy ecosystem is one that has a diversity of life in it.

That means that in the entire landscape of Maine's conserved lands, there's room enough for everyone to have what they want.