In the past 12 months, things have changed in more ways than I can count, not just for me personally, but for the world as a whole. I started off the year thinking this would be the start of my greatest adventure, pursuing the single-year redline of the White Mountains. I looked forward to watching my fellow hikers start their thru-hikes, and was excited to spend as much time as possible on the trails. Fast forward to March, and everything blew up on not just my own hiking plans, but those of the vast majority of hikers. We all went from nervous anticipation about starting new adventures, to being cooped up inside while COVID-19 spread like wildfire, burning down all our intentions in the process.
Overuse on Hiking Trails in 2020
In the past year, seasoned hikers have watched as search and rescues soared, trails have been overused, and private land access closures have increased. As indoor gatherings and activities became impossible due to the pandemic and restrictions, a whole new group of hikers flocked to the trails with little respect for Leave No Trace principles. This led to overcrowded parking lots and trails where social distancing was near impossible, even outside. It has been disheartening to watch as more of the places that I love to “get away from it all” are becoming the weekend destinations for people who are unaware of how their behavior impacts others, and use the outdoors as space for social media clout.
While most of us in the hiking community followed the recommendations and didn’t hit the trails in New Hampshire (where I live), not everyone seemed to be staying local for their outdoor excursions. The closing of other forms of recreation or entertainment meant a huge influx of new hikers hitting the trails from all over New England. At one point, the White Mountain National Forest attempted to close popular trailheads, as numbers of hikers surged during the most dangerous season for hiking. People disregarded the trail closures, parking on the sides of roads and walking right past barriers, because “you can’t close the outdoors.”
Social Media on Hiking Trails
The impact of COVID on hiking trails is just part of the problem. It isn’t just these temporary hikers, looking for something to do on the weekends. In the past six years since I started hiking, social media platforms like Instagram and YouTube, and websites like The Trek, have been huge catalysts for the increase in the number of individuals flocking to the trails. Whether it’s because they have a genuine interest in hiking, or because they want to become an “influencer,” it’s uncanny how many accounts have popped up on social media or on major hiking websites demonstrating how the sheer number of people hitting the trails is on the rise and unlikely to go down anytime soon.
While large organizations like the Pacific Crest Trail Association administer thru-hiker permit systems to try to alleviate some of the overcrowding on the trails, I wonder how my local trails are being impacted and how I can reduce my own influence on the influx of hikers to the Whites. I’m just one person; how much can I really be hurting the trails? I don’t have that many Instagram followers; am I really an “influencer”? These were questions that I was forced to answer last spring when the COVID pandemic hit and I found my own decisions to continue working on my single-year redline being questioned by local hikers. I realized that whether I like it or not, I do have an impact on what other people do. Now, on the eve of another attempt to redline not just northern New Hampshire, but all of New Hampshire, I am seriously questioning how I can go about this attempt and not cause unintentional trail damage to the lesser-known trails that I hold so close to my heart.
I was attempting a local hike recently only to discover that the trailhead was closed by the property owner. Hikers had previously been allowed to access the trail on private land, but since they had been disrespectful and left trash everywhere, it was now closed. I spent the entire hike—which I had to re-plan due to this closure—thinking about how I impact hiking trails by being a social media presence that encourages people to get outside. How much of this trail closure was inadvertently my own fault? And could I, in good conscience, continue posting about my hikes like I have for years, knowing that I’m part of the problem?
I’ve thought about the impact social media has on hiking trails a lot over the past few years. Should I be posting on Instagram, or should I make my account private to stop people from seeing what I’m doing, in the hopes of reducing the number of people on the trails? I don’t think that’s the answer. In the past year, I’ve had to decide whether publishing my redlining guide is a wise decision, or if I should keep the lesser-traveled areas of the Whites off social media to preserve their seldom-trampled trails from destruction. On the other hand, I’ve felt torn because who am I to say who can and cannot visit these places; the outdoors should be for everyone, right? Not just the few people I’ve deemed worthy of visiting such places.
Learning from Other Outdoor Activities
I spent some time contemplating how other recreational activities manage people’s behavior. How do sports teams, ski resorts, outdoor recreation centers, or other structured outdoor activities manage people’s behavior?
These organizations have regulations that must be followed by all individuals who access these services. They have people enforcing the rules, and other folks maintaining the institutions. If you were going to a ski resort, you wouldn’t think twice about throwing your trash in the garbage can, or following the rules regarding proper use of the facilities. But for some reason, as soon as we hit the hiking trails, it becomes a free for all, with people disposing of trash wherever they see fit, not properly burying waste, and destroying fragile plant life by walking off-trail on alpine summits. Worse still, when someone is called out on exhibiting such behavior, they often become offended. They’re outdoors, and they are allowed to do whatever they want, right?
Perhaps the problem is not that people don’t know how to recreate outdoors responsibly, it’s just that they’ve always been led to believe that in the woods there are no rules or regulations. Even the language used in the outdoor community around wilderness ethics elicits a sense of there being no real rules, just recommendations. We don’t have Leave No Trace Rules, we have Leave No Trace Principles. And to make matters worse, the number of individuals who are paid to maintain or patrol the trails are dwindling as monies are being stripped from their hands by the government. This leaves us, the people who are engaging in the activities, to self-patrol, volunteer to maintain trails, and engage in proper wilderness ethics and hope that our behavior will inspire newer hikers to follow suit.
The fact of the matter is, social media and major outdoor recreation sites aren’t going anywhere and unfortunately, the funds that offer some semblance of financial backing to the individuals who maintain the trail systems seem to be getting funneled to other places. It is up to us, the hikers, especially the ones who are seasoned and know what is right and wrong behavior in the backcountry, to educate newer hikers and practice what we preach. Rather than getting off social media, maybe we can use our social media platforms as a way to demonstrate proper wilderness ethics and educate people about their impact on the trail systems.
How I Plan to Lessen My Impact on Hiking Trails
I intend to shift my own behavior in the future as a social media user and unintentional influencer in the hiking community. In the past, I’ve geotagged all of my posts, or if people ask where specific pictures are taken, I’ve happily commented directly in the thread about where I was hiking. While I want to encourage others to get outside and am happy to share trail information, perhaps moving these conversations to the private messages section and no longer tagging my posts with a location are two ways I can decrease my own impact on trail overuse.
Another way I could use my platform for good rather than harm is to talk about the Leave No Trace principles and find ways to share how I give back to the trails that I use by volunteering for trail maintenance or adopting a trail.
Finally, as I start my next attempt at redlining the Whites, I will reassess how I approach posting about lesser-known trails and whether posting my GPS tracks of hikes is a wise choice, continue to encourage people to read the guidebook before setting out on hikes, and find ways to educate people about how much goes into maintaining our trail systems. I may only be one person, and I know I can’t change the world, but making these simple changes to my own behavior gives me peace of mind that I’m doing my best to have a positive impact on the hiking trails I love.
