IMPACT ON THE TRAIL

    "Take only pictures, leave only footprints" has long been a basic tenet for human conduct in the wilderness.  It is a slogan of some elequence as well, for its suggests that the wilderness may tolerate at least one sign of human presence.
    Yet anyone who has ever crossed the portage between Meadows and Agnes Lakes in Quetico (a popular, much-travelled path of sightseers to Louisa Falls) will have borne painful witness to the cumulative effect of … yes, even "footprints."
The first time I travelled this path was on a rainy June day in 1964.  Water gurgled between the stones underneath the pine mat where I stepped.  I fancied a magnificent subterranean river running beneath me; the "streambed" was marked well by boulders jutting from the path.  Yet the path was negotiable—soft and tenuous between the stones, where a thick cushion of humus absorbed my cautious footfalls.
    Now, twenty-five years later, the pine mat is gone.  It belongs to Agnes. The ''streambed" is now just that … a streambed.  At least, during wet weather.  And the erosion caused by runoff is compounded further by continued use of the portage.  However, it is becoming increasingly difficult to negotiate this path by stepping between the stones.  They seem to be rising more prominently from the ground every year.   Hence, the portager must tread directly on them, stepping-stone fashion, lending a rather ironic twist to the new wilderness adage of the '80s:  "Tread lightly."
    This kind of impact is, for the most part, irreversible.  But it is not unpreventable.  And there is some merit to localizing human activity at only a few concentrated points on the map, leaving the remaining wilderness unscathed.  That is the idea behind designated use areas, such as entry points, campsites, and (to some extent) canoe routes.
    Presently, there are 87 designated entry points into the BWCAW.  Yet nearly two-thirds of all the people entering the Boundary Waters in recent years did so from only seven of them—namely, Fall Lake, Lake One, Moose Lake, Saganaga Lake, Sawbill Lake, Sea Gull Lake, and Trout Lake.
    Similarly, out of seven designated entry points into Quetico Park, Prairie Portage and Cache Bay have repeatedly received the heaviest use.
    The quota system, currently in use on both sides of the border, was established to help regulate the traffic through these more popular areas and to distribute impact more evenly among other designated use areas.  The U.S. Forest Service (USFS) strongly encourages visitors to consider alternative entry points and routes into the Boundary Waters, which receive less use.  Indeed, they even recommend visiting areas outside the BWCAW if trip objectives may be readily met there.  As stated under their wilderness trip planning guidelines:   "Some areas outside the BWCA Wilderness actualty receive less use and are better places to visit if you are seeking solitude and peace and quiet."  I must concur.
    Trail impact may be further reduced by avoiding entry during heavy-use periods.  That is admittedly a tough one for a lot of people—since these periods happen to include the fishing opener, holiday weekends, and the prirne vacation time of mid-summer.  At least consider planning entry during the middle of the week, if possible.  Weekends traditionally receive heavier use.
    Learn how to navigate by map and compass.  This is important—not just for your own peace-of-mind but for preventing unnecessary (and dangerous) forays through unknown timber.  Stick to marked or established portages, and stay on the trail.
    Limit the size of your group.  (Group size is already limited to ten people in the BWCAW and nine in Quetico.)  Take rests and lunch breaks on bare rock when you can.  Wear light footwear.  Tennis shoes or sneakers are easier on terrain than heavy hiking boots; they dry more readily when wading is necessary; and they are far less cumbersome both on the trail and in the water.
    Observe outboard motor restrictions, and perform mechanical portaging only where permitted.  Pollute neither water nor portage trail with your litter; pick up all litter you encounter on the trail, and pack it out with you.

CAMPSITE IMPACT

    In the BWCAW, overnight camping is permitted only at USFS "developed" campsites.  These are plainly indicated on your wilderness map by those familiar little red dots—on site, by those even more familiar black iron firegrates (and inconspicuous "thunderboxes" back in the woods!).  The only exceptions to this rule exist for those who obtain specific permission to camp within various designated Primitive Management Areas … and winter campers, who (for the time being, anyway) present less of a threat to the environment.
    In Quetico, the ruling is less specific:  campers are required to lay over in "established" campsites only.  But these are not formally indicated—by map or otherwise.   One must simply look for these spots; stone fireplaces are the best indicators.
    Maverick camps—newly established campsites—are grimly frowned upon by both quarters of border-country management.
    So is the construction of permanent camp structures, such as picnic tables, benches, and lean-to huts.   Certainly, no one will burn you at the stake for propping-up a log to sit on by your campfire … providing you leave it for the next camper to use as firewood!
    Few campsites have room for more than two tents.  So, if you have a larger group, plan on using larger tents accordingly.  And don't ditch around them to route rainwater—this is an obsolete, erosion-promoting method which has been dramatically improved upon since the invention of the plastic ground tarp.
    Layovers greater than 14 consecutive days are not allowed at campsites in the BWCAW.  In specified "heavy-use" areas, only one night of camping is allowed.
Again, by following these guidelines of conduct during your visits to the wilderness, you ensure its continued preservation and use for generations to come.

FIRE

    The smell of fire is irresistible.  But for an occasional fireless evening beneath the stars (which everyone should really try sooner or later), or a bona fide ban imposed by dry conditions, no one should deprive themselves of the simple pleasure afforded by fire.  Just watch it.
    Keep your fires small.   It is not only more safe but will deplete less of your available wood supply.   Confine your fire to your fireplace.  In the BWCAW, the only places fires are permitted are inside USFS steel fire-grates at designated campsites.
    Forage only dead wood, away from camp; preferably wood which has fallen naturally to the ground.  Spruce is generally most plentiful and burns well, but I prefer sun-bleached cedar driftwood when I can find it along shore.  Avoid birch; it makes a terrible cook fire and is often "punky" due to rotting inside the bark, which is respectively slower to decay.   Birch bark itself makes a superb firestarter, but it should be foraged from the ground where it has naturally fallen from the tree.  Stripping bark from any live tree is prohibited in both the BWCAW and Quetico.  So is cutting live boughs and foliage.
    Axes are strongly discouraged under wilderness trip planning guidelines.  They invite misuse (such as chopping and hacking) from the inexperienced.  I usually bring one along to split my cedar driftwood for the cook fire, but the ax should be considered only by the conscientious user.  A camp saw will usually suffice for any kind of wilderness wood-getting you should face.
    Drown your fire thoroughly when you are done with it.  Also, soak the stones around your fire pit.   Stir the wet ashes and drown again.
    If you smoke, do so only in safe areas away from flammable brush and foliage, preferably close to your fireplace.  Never smoke in the woods or along portage trails.
    If you should encounter a natural fire in the wilderness, however, do not attempt to put it out.   Chances are it is already being monitored as part of a new "let burn" policy established by the USFS for the natural regeneration of forest habitat.   Report such fires—if it is convenient.

A CLEAN CAMP

    A study was done about two decades ago in Yellowstone Park where the rate of litter accumulation at controlled campsites was compared:  it was found that litter accumulated at a consistently higher rate where a small amount of litter already existed; it accumulated at a dramatically slower rate where it did not exist to start with—at clean camps.
    This says something about the virtue of picking up litter—including other people's litter—wherever it is found.  In essence, you are preventing (rather, delaying) what seems to be an inevitable process of accumulation.  It is also the reason why I routinely instigate full-scale "policing" forays and clean-up every campsite I visit.  I consider this endeavor one of the most significant simple tasks one can perform for the environment—I encourage everyone to do the same.
    What cannot be burned in camp, pack out with you.  Including foil from the fire pit.  And be careful what you burn:  I experienced a near catastrophe, one time, after engaging my entire group to clean up an island on Pipestone Bay in Basswood Lake.  We picked up everything … right down to the last "Shake Well" label and wire twistie.   That evening, one inexperienced member of the group haphazardly fed a discarded butane bottle to the garbage fire.  It didn't take very long to figure out why our fire had suddenly risen a couple octaves in pitch.  The canister was red-hot!—spewing flame from one end beneath a burning log.  There was quite a commotion raised as everyone instantly dispersed.  In the process of knocking the can from the fire with a stick and kicking it down the rocks toward the water, I managed to somehow snuff out the flame.  It wheezed out a long gasping breath before it finally cooled … and died.
    Ironically, before the can-and-bottle ban in the BWCAW and Quetico, it was recommended that you dispose of cans (not butane cans, of course) by first burning and then sinking them in the middle of the lake.  Burning oxidized the metal, promoting rust and more immediate decay.   Now, as everyone should know, cans and bottles are strictly prohibited in these wilderness areas, with the exception of such non-food items as mosquito sprays, medicines, toilet articles, and—needless to say—fuel bottles.
    Another good reason to keep a clean camp is to prevent attracting bears.  Some food waste may be burned, but you may also seal it in plastic bags, hang with your food at night, then pack it out with you.  Fish offal and remains, on the other hand, should not be burned.  The Friends of Quetico recommend disposing of fish remains on shoreline rocks at least 1000 feet from your camp.  Do not submerge; leave exposed to gulls, bald eagles, and other carrion eaters—which you may also enjoy watching from this comfortable distance.
    Clean fish on the bottom of a canoe close to shore where any kind of mess may be readily rinsed; perform this task well away from where you fetch cooking water.
    Waste water from cooking should be disposed of at least 150 feet inland from shore.  While it was previously thought that confining waste water to a single sump hole prevented attracting bears and other animals, recent evidence has shown that dispersing it widely is more effective for reducing food odors.
    Bathing with biodegradable soap should be performed 150 feet from shore, also.  While this may seem unreasonable to those who have enjoyed scrubbing-up at the beach-head for so many years, remember it is not the bathing but the soap which pollutes the environment.   The same goes for toothpaste.
    However, you might consider an ingenious method of bathing, dreamed up by a friend of mine, to ease your despair:  Lash together a "bathtub" between a couple trees with a single plastic tarp then heat a few pots of water to fill it; place an air mattress underneath for a most pleasant and soothing wilderness bath!  (If you don't want to bother with this sort of monkey-business … swim in lieu of bathing.)
    If you must do laundry, the same rules apply.  Although, I have successfully laundered many clothes on more extended trips by securing them with rocks in shallow water and letting the wave action do my dirty work.  After a good drying in a sunny breeze, clothes come out surprisingly sweet-smelling by this method.
    The 150-foot rule applies to human waste, as well.  Compliance to this is easy in the Boundary Waters, since latrines are provided at all developed campsites.  In Quetico, however, you must bury fecal waste.
    Establish a latrine by removing a sizeable divot of turf, and have all members of your group use this hole until you leave.  Of course, replace the turf on final duty—and remove the plastic bag in which you have properly placed toilet paper and tampons (if you have bean truly conscientious) for burning or packing out.  On the trail, a single "cat hole" dug with your heel—some ways off the beaten path, of course, will suffice.

YOUR PRESENCE FELT

    The cumulative impact of your presence in the wilderness is one thing, the impact you directly impose on others is another.  While I do not personally object to the sight of a friendly distant fire, or a bright-colored camp tarp nestled in the woods on the far shore, there are those, indeed,who would have us all wearing "camo."  You might consider, when buying camp clothing and equipment, earth-toned colors that blend more into the scene.
    One distraction I cannot tolerate, however, is noise.  Leave your boom boxes at home, and behave yourself.  Listen for wolves.
    Above all, for everyone's sake, please:  Go gently, tread lightly … through the wilderness.  