Bogland Beauty

Without Trails   July 1, 2012

Morning bog beauty

A trail gives a reason, a direction, safety, ease, comfort, access to beauty, all with the convenience of a known route and a near certainty of safe return.   Trails prevent us from loving our resources to death, preventing erosion and large numbers of people from aimlessly walking over small and fragile habitats in our state and national park systems.  Trails allow accessibility, granting the same spectacular views and explorations to people of all ages and abilities.  Trails give day-hikers the speed to get to a mountain pass and back to the safety of a waiting car in the same day.  For a thousand reasons, trails are good for people and the places we love.  But there is also a paradox of trails, a granting of access to things most obvious, and a consequential personal removal from things precious, rare, and well hidden.  The express way to nature may prevent us from better knowing nature.  After all, it is that mosquito toll we pay that grants us access to a deeper understanding.      

Black Spruce and Tamarack Bog

There are many varieties of trails and more types of trail-users.  On the one extreme, we drive our cars on the largest and most obvious of trails, sometimes as fast as 80 miles per hour.  These trails have become the enemy of land, animals, and ecosystem integrity.   On the other extreme, we may follow a small game trail through an otherwise impassible tangle of briars and lay-downs, seeking a personal connection with the land.   Most often, people seeking nature will use moderately wide trails of gravel, wood chips or bare earth.  These trails are minimally invasive gateways to a world of broader vistas and joyful “handshakes” with nature.    Aldo Leopold equated safety to dullness and boredom in his essay, “Thinking Like a Mountain.”   I understand trails in their many shapes, forms and reasons, but I don’t always agree with a good trail.  Sometimes I don’t like a day of planned certainty.   I like the mosquito tollway and the adventure that comes from not knowing what awaits my visit.

Pitcher Plant, a bog plant that lives in acidic waters amid blankets of sphagnum mosses.

Modified leaves form the vessels that allow this plant to function as a carnivorous plant.

Pitcher Plant: The red veins secrete insect-attracting nectar…

Pitcher Plant: Insects and other small animals fall into the pitcher and cannot escape…

Pitcher Plant: A flowering plant with an unusual but otherwise typical flower…

Even bog lands have trails.  Animals, especially deer, must safely negotiate these earthly sponges with energy-saving efficiency.  A timeless trail network appears through an unbelievably slow succession in a microbially starved ecosystem.  Peat mosses are compacted until water stands above them but footing beneath is firm and forgiving.   I love these sloppy, knee-deep trails, but they do not always lead where I must go. I divide my time between careful negotiation of hummocks and root mats and the wet, trusty deer trails.  In soggy habitats, the biggest sin is to keep your feet dry.  Accept wet feet, step with calculated confidence, and you will likely stay safe.  Seeking dry feet invites an accident and is tough on a landscape so slow to recover.  To visit a bog, I owe it to the bog to be well behaved.  Bogs are preciously rare and sensitive to trampling.   So…Which deer trail do I take next?

The trail less traveled, the trail made and visited by only the four-legged animals, is the trail for me.  A walk through a bog requires attention to details as I strive to preserve life and understand unfamiliar beauty.  I move slowly and am constantly in awe.  Every species brings the question, “has anybody discovered that before?”   Yes, it seems most everything has been described by science, but there are still discoveries.  Even questions of a plant or animal’s well-being and geographic distribution must be answered.  So, with care for the environment and with a light step, I venture into the bog on trails unknown by humans and traveled by bears, deer, raccoons, snakes, and frogs.  As long as people choose not to visit bogs, they will remain beautiful wilderness.  A paradox of wilderness is that the best wilderness is that which is not seen by humans.  Every once in a while, though, I encourage you to find a trail less traveled, a day of unpredicted, uncertain joy, a visit with nature that brings you something new and opens your heart to the possibilities!

Rose pogonia (Pogonia ophioglossoides)

Black-throated Green Warlber in Tamarack Tree

Lincoln’s Sparrow, a subtle beauty with an amazing song

Cottongrass sedge in flower reminds me of a Dr. Suess truffula tree

A skipper butterfly on tamarack…Another “what is this species?” moment!

Images were made with a Canon Rebel XTi, my older 300mm f4 Canon lens (this is my old “throw it in the backpack” pro gear for treks like this!). Other images were made with the Canon Powershot XS230HS.  A partly cloudy sky and early morning light gave these images their color hues and any kind of magic.   Step carefully and leave no track or trail, no trace that you were ever there!