My mother lived in Maine for a while when she was younger. It sounded like everyone there was a little bit insane. I remember the stories of the mushrooming guy who was more than a bit brave; the people who worked in town (the only people that weren't loggers) who were a bit off-kilter, oh, and the semi-regular chainsaw accidents. It also sounded like a pretty wild territory; you're largely at the mercy of nature. You had to watch out for moose when driving, because hitting one of those things could kill you.
This is the most Maine story I have ever read. There is a reason Mainers are often referred to as "Maineacs." There's large swaths of Maine that are so lightly populated that they don't even qualify as towns; instead they are called townships.