Tread Lightly and Carry a Walking Stick

If you’re hiking any public trails this season, you will likely see signs that advise visitors to stay on the marked trails. How seriously do you take that directive? Let me give you a scenario. 

You’re hiking in the California Redwoods, which you know is a vulnerable ecosystem. Maybe you know these ancient trees (the largest on the planet) absorb a lot of carbon, and thus play a vital role in mitigating the effects of climate change. You also understand that lots of lives depend on you not wandering into their habitat and crushing it with your giant boots. 

But then the trees do magic on you and you’re filled with euphoria! You’re wistful for the wild off-roading of your youth and have the overwhelming urge to run wild. And your kids! You try to stop them but they’re fast and slippery. Soon everyone is getting tired and an off-trail shortcut starts to look very appealing; by the looks of it, other people have already gone that way. What’s the harm?

Trail Matters

The idea is of course to do as little harm as possible. Forestry services do their best, but 95 percent of the old-growth forest that existed before 1850 is already gone, and what remains is under threat. Tromping around the trees to get a closer look might seem harmless, but it can pack the earth around the roots and do long-term damage.

You already know the obvious arguments. Staying on the trail:

• Conserves natural landscapes
• Prevents erosion and pollution
• Minimizes human impact

But still you wonder, do the rules really apply to me? 

You Are Not That Special 

I mean, you’re special to your mom, and probably all the people who know you can still do that cool breakdance move, but I’m talking about where you fit into the larger, universal picture of life on Earth. And really I’m talking about all of us sentient humans. Now that we’ve overcome mind-blowing odds to be born (good job, us), it’s only fair to share the space with every other lifeform that made the cut. 

There’s an upside to not being special. What we do matters just as much as what anyone else does (unless we’re talking about Amal Clooney—objectively her stuff probably matters more). The number of airplane flights we take, the amount of new merchandise we order and ship, the decision we make on a hike to step off the trail and into a fragile ecosystem—all of these things have an impact. 

What Lives Here?

When my kids were little, the idea of fairies living in the forest enchanted them. They loved to build fairy houses in the woods and leave fairy gifts. Naturally, as experienced practitioners of imaginary home construction, they followed strict, well-documented rules: gather only natural things you find nearby: twigs, moss, fallen leaves, acorn cups, etc., and don’t leave any signs of yourself behind. They rightly believed that our human presence has the power to diminish the natural world if we’re careless, and fairies don’t like that.

Kids are great learners, which is all the more reason to stay on the trail. Parents who model respect for the environment for their kids establish root systems of behavior that can span generations. 

Stay on the Trail: A Mantra

Obviously I’m speaking literally, but on another level, “Stay on the Trail” could serve as a useful mantra along the lines of, “Keep Going,” in the face of doubt, apathy, or fatigue. (Remember in “Star Wars: A New Hope,” when Gold Five tells Luke to “Stay on target, stay on target!” through the maze of trenches on the surface of the Death Star? Like that.)

I said it once before but it bears repeating now: 

STAY curious without destroying the object of your curiosity. 

ON closer inspection, you might learn (as I recently did) that ferns can shelter tiny newts. I am so glad I didn’t walk on them. Would you want newt on your shoe? On your conscience?

THE argument for respecting trails is an argument for humility and respect, and not taking more than we need. 

TRAIL etiquette isn’t just for fellow hikers; it extends to the plants and creatures that live on its periphery. 

In the United States, the public owns its public lands. Whatever “ownership” means to you, it’s all the more reason to be a good steward who protects the land we treasure. We can’t stop others from going off trail, but I like to think we’re part of the process of rewilding natural spaces every time we choose to not follow them. The better we are at leaving no trace, the more of a healthy legacy we build for everyone and everything around us.