Maple Ridge Road, the only paved road into Cedar Ridge, crossed my land. My grandfather had allowed it decades ago—but as an easement, not a sale.
That distinction mattered.
I read the document carefully.
Right of passage—yes.
Modification of adjacent land—only with permission.
They had cut my trees without asking.
That changed everything.
I called my lawyer, Angela Brooks.
She listened carefully, then said, “That’s trespass. Possibly timber theft. And they violated the easement.”
“Can I shut down the road?”
“We can try,” she said.
That was enough.
The next morning, before sunrise, I drove two posts into the ground where the road crossed onto my property. I chained them together, locked it, and hung a sign:
PRIVATE PROPERTY
EASEMENT UNDER REVIEW
NO ACCESS
Then I went inside and waited.
By 7 a.m., cars had started piling up.
By 7:30, Richard was at my door.
“You can’t do this,” he said.
“It’s my land.”
“You’re trapping people.”
“There’s another route,” I replied. “Longer, but open.”
He tried argument after argument, but the law wasn’t on his side.
“You’re making enemies over trees,” he said finally.
“You made enemies over a view,” I answered.
The next week was chaos—for them.