Mud Is Bad

 The poet was wrong about nature when he wrote:

Spring     

when the world is mud-luscious 

and 

puddle-wonderful 

Mud is death. It is not a normal part of the ecosystem. 

In nature, soil is clothed with diverse plants. Slightly underneath is a dense network of rootlets and other soil biota, tangled and supportive. It holds us up just fine when we walk. (See Endnote 1 for minor exceptions.)

Even a herd of people or animals passing over a bit of ground doesn't normally make the wound that we experience as mud. All those feet may loosen the turf, and soil may be visible here and there, but nature quickly heals, ready for the next herd of us. 

What makes mud is too many feet trampling wet ground too often. The resulting open wound is troubling and ugly to a wise eye. Species die in the area of this injury. Not just their tops, the roots die. On slopes, erosion may even form a gulley, removing the soil too, sometimes many feet deep.

Especially in a Nature Preserve, mud is a defeat. We restrict visitation or harden trails to save biota, including living soil. The photo below, from Harms Woods Nature Preserve, shows what we don't want:

Here the path has gotten wider and wider as people trample further and further to the side. 

Some people say, “Oh, don’t worry. I have boots that will handle mud just fine.” But that’s not the point. We don’t design trails for the sake of people's footwear. We do it for the ecosystem. 

The photo below shows one solution, an imperfect one:

This example is from Somme Prairie Grove, which is visited mostly by people who come to appreciate its wild plants and animals. These folks tend to be careful, respectful, even reverent to some degree.  

But in the above photo, the tree-trunk “pavers” are easily visible and not entirely comfortable to walk on. They are either too thick, too far apart, or perhaps just not yet as settled in as they will be after a year or two of foot traffic. Some of our trails, once channels of mud, were outfitted with buckthorn pavers which are now invisible under a restored path turf. 

For a primer in how to install pavers, click here. And/or go to Endnote 2. 

We reinforce trails when mud starts to form. A more successful trail in spring is shown below:

The savanna turf here (with its many rare and endangered plant species) is untrampled outside the footpath. The trail surface itself is carpeted with a plant called Path Rush – which in fact grows only in animal-created (including human-created) paths. There are pavers here too. But they are narrower, appropriate to this less-wet area. And those narrower pavers have sunk below the path-rush-and-soil surface. No one notices that this trail has a crafted structure. Preferably, footpath composition should be invisible when possible, with path rush growing between the pavers, and not bumpy to walk on. 

You can help maintain these trails just by walking. Here are some basic principles for Somme:

1. On wet days, if the path-rush-surface is breaking down, it’s too wet to walk that path. One (best?) option: Turn around, and come back another day. Another option at Somme: Walk on the edge of the trail. Natural footpaths here are about ten inches wide. If you walk ten inches to the right or left of the existing path while it's vegetated, that area too may succeed to path rush. Such a path, being twice as wide, could handle twice the foot traffic as the original. Note: I'm not suggesting here that people walk to the side if the side too is getting muddy. Don't do that. Turn around. Go back. 
2. For people to pass each other, the slower walker should step just off the trail and let the other(s) pass. This courtesy should have a minor impact on the ecosystem, especially if that conservationist's feet try to avoid the most special plants there, as many of us try to do. 

Other opinions and principles

One conservation source writes: 

"Don’t destroy the beauty by walking off trail. …The trails will sometimes get muddy. Stay on the trail anyway. Don’t widen the trail by walking to the side to try to avoid the mud. Dress for the mud. Relish walking in the mud."

The U.S.Forest Service (white Mountain National Forest website) says:

“Good boots are designed to get muddy! Walk through the mud and stick to the center of the path … To prevent damaging the environment, turn around when the trail is extremely muddy. Soon it will dry out and you’ll be able to enjoy the hike. Whatever you do, don’t widen the trail or damage vegetation by walking around the muddy areas.” 

The New England Mountain Bike Association writes: 

“HOOVES, FEET, AND TIRES SHOULD STAY OFF THE TRAILS DURING MUD SEASON. 

If we ride (on mud), the damage to the trail could be permanent. The mineral soils will be churned up, and rain and gravity will wash these soils away, leaving a mess of exposed roots and rocks. If the trail is really soft, our wheels leave sunken tracks which could channel into ruts and carry the soils away. If we hike, our heels and boots will dig deep into the trails and help push the soils downhill. Either way, it's the trail that loses, so please show some respect and patience."

On many spring days, the Chicago Area Mountain Bike Association shows all trails closed: "too soft or wet to ride." 

The Forest Preserve District of Cook County website has a section on Trails Rules and Etiquette that flatly states: “Trail usage is prohibited in muddy conditions.” 

How do you know if a trail is too muddy?

In the photo below, the path was too soft:

More walking by more people (especially those those who step vigorously with cleated soles) will kill the remaining scattered path rush. Indeed, previous walking in too-soft conditions has already killed most of the path rush that once comprised the turf on this trail. 
 

On the Harms Woods trail below, the impacts of varied walkers tells a tale:

Some people walk directly through the mud. Others have gone well to the side, killing the vegetation there too. I suppose if I were walking this trail I'd walk on the path rush that has survived in the green strip between the two denuded strips. Is there a better solution here? Would the wide diversity of people who come here just for a hike read trail suggestions on a sign or online? 

In the photo below, a Harms footpath crosses a ravine:

Stewards have tried various approaches to challenges like this. Perhaps the best choice would be to move the trail so that it traverses slopes rather than going straight up and down? But that choice would destroy a lot of high quality rare vegetation. 

The photo below from Somme Woods shows a bridge over a stream that is a rushing torrent after heavy rains. A bridge of rot-resistant black locust logs is held in place by stakes driven into the muck. Passers-by who don't quite understand how this works best have added miscellaneous wood. That seems to be a fact of nature, in this case human nature. If the additions work okay, we leave them. 

The above approach is sometimes used to cross wider wet areas. In this case, the "coin pavers" came from a large oak that fell across the trail and needed to be cleaned up. 

By mid-summer the less-heavily-used Somme Prairie Grove paths often have natural vegetation hanging over the sides. These path rush paths are easy to follow when you're there - but often nearly invisible in photos. 

 

Visitors don't think about the trail. They are immersed in the ecosystem - and happy to inhabit it. 

Endnotes

Endnote 1. Minor exceptions.

Is mud natural? Buffalos and elephants make sometimes muddy wallows. They cover very limited part of their landscapes and are not features we need to concern ourselves with in 21^st Century tallgrass region biodiversity conservation. Drying ephemeral ponds can become muddy when deer troop down to drink. Let's not quibble about such details. In our precious tallgrass woods and prairie preserves, we want to make best use of every inch of this rare land, for both aesthetic inspiration and biodiversity conservation. Mud sucks. 

Endnote 2 "Trail Design"

There are many good trail-design references. They all agree that one of the most basic principles is for trails to "traverse" slopes obliquely, so that water crosses the trail - rather than running down it and turning the path into an eroding stream. In other words, trails should not go directly up or down slopes. There's a lot more to trail design, for people who want to learn. Just as some conservationists focus on legal protections, others on rare species, or fire, or invasives control methods - there are many sub-specialities worth paying attention to. No one has to master every detail. But some of us would be wise to focus on making nature accessible and appreciated sustainably - to people with feet.  

It makes a difference whether trail use is light or heavy, hilly or flat, dry or wet. Worst impacts come from horses and vehicles. Next worst are runners and bikes (in the wrong weather, especially on poorly designed trails). Slow walking (while observing, studying, and appreciating) has little impact under most conditions.

Some nature preserve trails in some areas are mowed a few feet wide. This approach makes sense in some areas, especially where foot traffic is fairly heavy. One size does not fit all. 

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Eriko Kojima, Christos Economou, Rebeccah Hartz, and Cathy Garness for proofing and edits. 

Facebook Comments

Andrew Zwick asks: 

Is there an ecological reason, Steve, that Somme doesn’t have a good trail system like Harms and other reserves?

S. Packard responds: 

My understanding of your question, Andrew, is that the "good" trails at Harms Woods are the wide, vehicle-accessible, gravel-surface trails used by horses and bicycles as well as hikers. Many people appreciate them. But even at Harms, most people who go there for nature use the narrower footpaths.

Somme Prairie and Somme Prairie Grove are legally protected Illinois Nature Preserves. They are part of the less than 1/10th of 1% of "The Prairie State" that retains highest-quality natural ecosystems. To make wide trails there would destroy too much of that nature. It would also, in the minds of many, dilute the nature experience that many seek in going to such places. 

Ten-inch-wide footpaths destroy little nature. That fact makes is reasonable to design such trails to make a good deal more of the preserve accessible than would be tolerable using the wide vehicle-accessible trails. More importantly, such trails allow people to be "in nature." Grasses and flowers brush our legs when we walk. Butterflies, snakes, tiger beetles, and all manner of nature (including ticks sometimes, of course, unfortunately) are right with us. 

It's a different kind of experience. The Forest Preserves, wisely, provide both kinds. 

More Facebook Comments

S. Packard responds: 

When Bill Koenig was the staff Volunteer Coordinator for the Cook County Forest Preserves, he proved himself exceptionally wise, thoughtful, and creative as he sought solutions for the constantly changing challenges of the preserves. Thanks in part to Bill, Kelly Trease, and Ralph Thornton, volunteer stewardship grew as a culture that empowered competent volunteers to take on major responsibilities, including their leadership work with staff to design and maintain trails. 

Conservation landowners have often had "one size fits all" trails policies. A variety of creative solutions to trails needs and challenges would make sense, considering how varied the preserves are: small vs. large, surrounded by housing vs. surrounded by farms and other open land, flat vs. hilly, wet soils vs. dry, filled with endangered species and communities vs. former farmland, etc. But it's difficult to follow up on such potentials given how few are the qualified staff who have the responsibilities for ecosystem health, public safety, and such basic needs. Bit by bit, progress is made and better solutions emerge as staff and volunteers collaborate to build this region's rich culture of conservation.