– I’ll go and get you out of the forest!

A murder on Christmas Eve 121 years ago became relevant again in 2020, the year “everyone” went out into the wild.

Chronicle
This is a chronicle. Opinions in the text are the responsibility of the writer.

On Christmas 2, 1899, the landowner and mountaineer Johannes Heftye fired three shots with his revolver. The third shot killed the fisherman’s 24-year-old son, Ove Postmyr. Heftye was so tired of people walking around the Austrått estate that he installed a gate and built a road around it. That way it would prevent strangers from crossing the yard. The locals didn’t like this detour, so several continued walking through the courtyard. That’s what young Postmyr did this Christmas day, which was to be his last.

Fortunately, there is a long way to go between these conflicts. But the underlying situation is at least as relevant and recognizable today as it was more than a hundred years ago.

The farmer who wanted to get us out of the forest

2020 was the year “everyone” went out at the same time. This is how conflicts arise. During a run with friends, I told him about the murder in Austrått. I joked that they had to look a bit more over the shoulder on the field.

As if by an irony of fate, an hour later we heard a sharp scream from one of the farms through which we had just passed through what we perceived as a courtyard for public transit. “Get down here now, or I’ll come and get you out of the forest!” yelled the furious landowner.

The right of public access to joy and trouble

Unfortunately, many are recognized in this episode. More and more often you come across signs and billboards that make it clear that they don’t want you on the property.

Where does this mistrust come from? What did a landowner do to a murderer because of a passage through the yard in the middle of the Christmas holidays? What makes a farmer threaten three adults to take them out of the forest against their will because they used the road to his farm? The answer, obviously, is not in the incident there and then, but in the story. The farmer’s neighbor put this into words.

An unexpected reconciliation

Just before the farmer called us, we had received an equally abrupt message from his neighbor that we had nothing to do there. The next day I called this man. I was quite surprised, but it was a cordial conversation about the relationship between landlords and the general public. The man was able, among other things, to tell about a hiker who is said to have “been stopped on the way home to fetch water for the dog” and other anecdotes about people who (mis) used the right of public access to walk forward.

We will probably see in a different way how representative this is for the common hiker, but it is still easy to understand that such episodes create the need to protect privacy. The conversation made us both a little wiser and ended with a sincere thank you for contacting me so we could talk.

Christmas wishes for people outdoors.

We all know landowners who love us “where pepper’n grows.” We resent physical signs and barriers. But these landowners represent the exceptions.

Many of the roads, trails, and tractor tracks we travel are fixed by the owners themselves or with their blessing. Let’s think about this a bit more when we go on a trip in 2021.

Let us value the right of public access even more and remember that it is both a right and a declaration of trust that commits. The more consideration we have, the stronger the right of public access in the future.

He follows the path through a logging field and thinks that, well, it could have been better earlier, but this is where my dopa paper, the wood from the fireplace and the panel in the living room come from. Stay away from plantations. Wait for the TV and the snow before crossing the fields. Whoever “fetches water for the dog inside the farmer’s house” should not be allowed to define the owners’ experience of how most people travel in the wild. We resolve this best through our own behavior and attitudes.

Private area. Welcome!

When was the last time you saw that poster? As a landowner, I have a vision. Here people should only come across nice welcoming signs, whether they come by bike, skiing, running, canoeing or with a dog pooping where it suits him.

Those of us who live here return, many pleasant gatherings with grateful passersby. On very rare occasions, someone enjoys a picnic in our garden. People have also looked out the windows to see a 19th century house inside. It is experienced as invasive. A breach of trust. I’ve probably never considered a revolver, but on a bad day, pursuing long enough has been a tempting alternative.

But then we are rather reminded that among these individual events, there are hundreds or thousands of people who carry out activities considerably for the benefit of themselves and of society. They fill the bill for physical and mental health in the biggest and best gym of all.

The great room where everyone can have their best moments regardless of their shape, age, finances and background. The little feet that trample their first shaky steps between caring parents. Mountain bikers and skiers who develop their hobbies without having to travel far. The elderly couple who have been rented across the yard here for at least 30 years.

On paper, all landowners own this room, but in practice we borrow it in our own time before handing it over. We can spend that time irritating the few who abuse trust, or we can rejoice with the many who enjoy traveling here because we make it easy.

Christmas wish to the landlord

Do you have a sign on your property intended to keep people away? Try a little experiment. Replace the sign with a big “Welcome!” and observe the effect.

If the experiment improves the quality of life both for you and for others, leave the sign alone. Otherwise, consider whether the friendly welcome can be complemented by the wishes and expectations that you, as the owner, have for passersby. You know, people like the undersigned, who in good faith and in the best sense left the field and followed the path, but still crossed an invisible boundary.

Happy New Year! On both sides of the right of public access.