Fragile pathways act as both provider and protector. words :: Nicola Ross
Ask not what trails do for you—ask what trails do for nature.
At The Walrus Talks Nature event in Toronto last spring, seven speakers were each given seven minutes to present their thoughts on the topic “How nature and Canada’s trails can play a pivotal role in bolstering the environment, economy and health of all Canadians.” According to numerologists, the number seven is associated with insight, intuition, truthfulness, introspection, intellect and wisdom. It seems The Walrus calculated its presentation.
Trails figured largely in the speakers’ brief presentations, as footpaths are how most people gain access to nature. And nature’s key role in physical and mental health has become accepted wisdom, as noted by Dr. Melissa Lem, a family physician who is both president of the Canadian Association of Physicians for the Environment and the director of PaRx, Canada’s national nature prescription program, an initiative of the BC Parks Foundation.
She refers to nature as “the fourth pillar of health,” in addition to a healthy diet, exercise and good sleep. Lem cited a fascinating study, “Neighbourhood Greenspace and Health in a Large Urban Centre.” Carried out in Toronto and reported in the journal Scientific Reports, the study found that, “having 10 more trees in a city block, on average, improves health perception in ways comparable to an increase in annual personal income of $10,000 and moving to a neighbourhood with $10,000 higher median income or being 7 years younger.”
The role of trails in connecting people and places is paramount to Marlaine Koehler, executive director of the Waterfront Regeneration Trust. The 3,600 km Great Lakes Waterfront Trail links 170 communities and First Nations, 520 waterfront parks, 266 beaches and four Great Lakes. This trail, according to Koehler, breathes life into communities that are often “only known as the names on Highway 401 exits.”
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Koehler stood out from her fellow presenters when she took a step outside what were largely existential discussions about the importance of nature and trails. While most speakers discussed what trails do for people and how they can serve us better, Koehler recognized that the Waterfront Trail also protects and is restoring the waterfront.
The Great Lakes Waterfront Trail breathes life into communities that are often “only known as the names on Highway 401 exits.”
Her fellow presenter, Dianne Whelan, who accomplished the amazing feat of traveling (on foot, bicycle, snowshoes, skis, kayak and canoe) all 24,000 km of the Trans Canada Trail—and has made a film about it entitled 500 Days in the Wild—similarly recognized trails for their role in guarding nature. The seventh of the seven speakers, Whelan’s seventh of seven lessons taken from her expedition was that fostering a relationship with nature will help save the planet.
While walking Ontario’s 900 km Bruce Trail along the Niagara Escarpment, one of Canada’s most unique UNESCO biosphere reserves, I learned a similar lesson. I, however, would rank it as number one or two of what I took away from my journey. As I hiked for seven or eight hours a day for more than 40 days, it became apparent to me just how crucial the Bruce Trail is to the escarpment’s ongoing health.
The Bruce Trail, and countless other footpaths, keep public land in the public realm. In addition to crossing land owned by amenable private landowners, the trail follows innumerable unopened road allowances, hydro corridors and rail trails. It crosses myriad municipal, provincial and national parks as well as conservation areas. There wouldn’t be a Bruce Trail if it didn’t stitch together these fragments of public land. The mere presence of this much-loved and oft-walked trail, which stretches from the tip of the Niagara Peninsula to the toe of the Bruce, is akin to telling all levels of government: “Don’t mess with me.” Selling off a road allowance to adjacent landowners may go unnoticed—unless, that is, the Bruce or another trail happens to run along it.
In this way, the Bruce Trail provides the Niagara Escarpment with another layer of protection from urban development, aggregate extraction, wetland drainage, habitat loss, pollution and the glut of other negative impacts on wildlife, air and water quality.
On top of these environmental benefits, people love their trails; they bond with them. “Hands off” is a common response among trail users, especially locals, if there is a proposed interruption of their trail use. A piece of land that may seem inconsequential—despite the key role it plays as a corridor or habitat for wildlife—becomes something worth fighting for when it’s your favourite place to walk the dog or take the kids.
Adjacent to the village where I live is a 140-hectare piece of richly forested land. The Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources (MNR) owns the property but, by agreement, a village committee manages it. The Grange is home to a provincially significant wetland and two important streams that provide ideal habitat for brook trout. It also hosts a network of trails, which are well-used by people from the village and neighbouring towns.
A piece of land that may seem inconsequential—despite the key role it plays as a corridor or habitat for wildlife—becomes something worth fighting for when it’s your favourite place to walk the dog or take the kids.
Dogs and kids abound. Without the trails and those who use them, the MNR could sell this property to a developer without much ado. But should the MNR decide to peddle the Grange and its network of trails, it would learn that the adage is true: We protect what we love—often with the ferocity of a mama bear.
As the future unfolds, nature needs all the help it can get—especially in Southern Ontario, where population growth is unbridled and threats to the environment mount with every new house built, every new quarry excavated and every new highway constructed.
Trails don’t just contribute to our mental and physical health, as Dr. Melissa Lem pointed out; they don’t just provide connections between and within communities, as Marlaine Koehler suggested; and they don’t just renew our relationship with nature, as Dianne Whelan discovered somewhere along her 24,000 km journey. Trails protect nature—and strengthen our bond with it.
So, ask not what trails can do for you—ask what you can do for trails.
Nicola Ross is a National Magazine Award–winning journalist and the bestselling author of the Loops & Lattes hiking guides.
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