There’s plenty of talk surrounding the mountain in Rumford right now.

The effort by the Mahoosuc Land Trust to purchase summit property on Whitecap Mountain is facing staunch opposition by one landowner, the Kersey family, whose patriarch first dreamed of owning a mountain in Maine as a young Marine atop Mt. Surabachi, following the bloody battle for Iwo Jima.

Now the Whitecap conflict is escalating. “Our land has never been posted, and now (the trust) is going to over-publicize and ruin it,” Mike Kersey told the Sun Journal. “It will become an outhouse for the masses.”

Like a mountain, stories also have several sides. The Kerseys accuse the trust of a hostile takeover, while the trust maintains it’s acting in the best interest of the community. Both, however, seem to agree on the most salient point: protecting Whitecap as rugged terrain is the highest priority.

The Whitecap dust-up illustrates the divide between preservationists and conservationists, two descriptors that inspire dissimilar imagery – think tartan-clad hunters versus tie-dyed environmentalists – yet mean pretty much the same thing, because they share mutual, laudable goals.

Such as keeping Maine wild, and maintaining our outdoor heritage for future generations. There might be differences of recreational preferences – think snowmobiling versus hiking – but the groups have common, and laudable, ends they wish to achieve through their disparity of means.

Mistrust flares around land purchases such as the one pondered for Whitecap. Look to the north, where the Katahdin Lake swap around Baxter State Park, and the North Woods kingdom purchased by Burt’s Bees founder Roxanne Quimby, incited revolt from the traditional users of the woodsy wilderness.

Yet there’s many more, tired of chronic abuses of their property, who also threaten to restrict traditional access.

“Why Roxanne Quimby was singled out for vilification is somewhat of a puzzle,” University of Maine professor James Acheson wrote in the fall issue of Maine Policy Review. “After all, other wealthy people have bought large parcels of land and posted them, and their actions have gone unnoticed.”

“The only solution that many landowners see to curb irresponsible public behavior is to post their land,” Acheson added. “They are doing that in increasing numbers.”

This is the common enemy for preservationists and conservationists; losing access to properties traditionally open to the public – such as Whitecap – because of poor stewardship, abuse or neglect.

The Kerseys wish to preserve their property, for their family. The land trust seeks to conserve the mountain for Maine. Neither wants to fence it off. Both sides are treading common ground in their desire to keep Whitecap wild.

Now, all they must do is find it.