When I hiked Jay Mountain for the first time many years ago, I was struck by the size and craftsmanship of the cairns I saw along the ridge. Some of them were nearly as tall as me. At the time, I thought they were cool.
Now I am not so sure.
Since that hike up Jay, I have learned that not everyone appreciates cairns. Critics say that cairn building has got out of hand. Once used to mark the way, cairns nowadays often are seen as monuments to the ego and a blight on the wild landscape.
The Ausable River Association contends that cairns built for personal reasons violate Leave No Trace principles. “Recently, visitors to the Adirondacks have taken to stacking rocks along our Adirondack trails or waterways as creative art form or for meditation. Often, they build the rock stack, snap a few photos for Instagram, and leave. To some, these signs left upon the landscape are the same as graffiti carved into a tree,” according to a post on the association’s website.
Rocks removed from a stream, for example, can disturb the habitat of fish, salamanders, and other aquatic creatures.
When I hiked from the Garden to Big Slide last year, I passed a giant pile of rocks enveloping the base of a tree. It served no purpose, and I doubt it did the tree any good. What was the point?
The controversy is not limited to the Adirondacks. I was reminded of this on two recent hikes in New England.
The first was in Acadia National Park outside Bar Harbor on the coast of Maine. My girlfriend Carol and I spent a gorgeous day hiking to six small summits (that sounds like a lot, but the total elevation gain was only 1,500 feet). Since the summits were bald, the trail was often marked by cairns. This struck me as appropriate: I’d rather see cairns than paint blazes on the bedrock.
But the folks running Acadia do not allow just anyone to build cairns. Several times we saw park signs warning hikers that adding or removing rocks from cairns can cause soil erosion, damage plants, and degrade the landscape.
All of the cairns we saw on our hike followed the same basic design: two columns (of one or two rocks each) held up a lintel, or horizontal stone, with a small rock atop the lintel. Picture the trilithons (the pi-shaped stone structures) at Stonehenge, but much smaller and squatter. These are known as Bates cairns, named after their originator, Waldron Bates, who chaired the Path Committee of the Bar Harbor Village Improvement Association from 1900 to 1909.
Acadia National Park is carrying on the tradition of the Bates cairn—which is another reason officials don’t want hikers messing with the stones.
A week later, Carol and I (with other family members) hiked Mount Monadnock in southern New Hampshire, where we saw huge stacks of rock similar to those I have seen on Jay Mountain and elsewhere in the Adirondacks. These were a far cry from the humble Bates cairns we saw in Acadia. Nevertheless, cairn building is not encouraged on Monadnock either. On our way to the summit we passed a sign saying “Follow cairns. Don’t build them.”
In the Adirondack Forest Preserve, it’s illegal to build a cairn without a permit unless you work for the state Department of Environmental Conservation. I’ve never heard of anyone being prosecuted for building a cairn, though, and I bet most hikers are unaware of the regulation.
The Waterman Fund paid for a sign at the Cascade Mountain trailhead discouraging hikers from cairn building. Perhaps it’s time for DEC to follow the examples of Acadia and Monadnock and post similar signs at other strategic trailheads, especially those in the High Peaks region.
The other day I climbed Roaring Brook Falls near St. Huberts with a summertime employee of the Adirondack Mountain Club. When we reached the top, we saw a small cairn. It served no purpose. My young companion (age 19) was annoyed and scattered the stones.
What do you think of cairns? Are they a delight or a blight? Should hikers destroy unnecessary cairns?
Incidentally, Tom Woodman wrote a nice piece about cairns for the Explorer several years ago.