Preserving Nature, by Confusing People

A FRIEND AND I were idyllically hiking along a trail in the Ozark Mountains, when we came to a pile of small rocks, neatly stacked, right next to the rough, rocky trail. The stack was only about ten or twelve inches high, and very neatly arranged, as if by some intelligent being. We stopped briefly to rest and absorb nature. Suddenly my friend, without further adieu, swung his foot and kicked the heck out of the stack, scattering the rocks in every which direction. Perplexed, I asked him why he'd done this, since he didn't seem to be on the verge of explaining his actions to me voluntarily. He explained that the rock stack was a "cairn", or some such thing, intended to mark the trail for all hikers to see. Perplexed even more, I asked why why this was necessary, since the trail seemed rather self evident and self explanatory... He said that was the point. The trail marker is not needed, because the trail is obvious, and anyone hiking it could easily find his or her way back down the mountain, and back to the parking lot, without assistance from stacked rocks. Also, went on my friend, its builder was obviously just trying to make his or her mark on the trail, rather than actually trying to help people, and, besides, said my friend, the less interference with nature, the batter. I couldn't argue with any of this. Certainly, I knew better than the remind my dear friend that his destruction of another person's trail marker constituted, in a sense, his very own act of optional wilderness control. True, cairns have marked trails since time immemorial, and were and are, for the most part, well intentioned. But here, in our little wilderness enclave in the middle of a large town, the less interference with nature, the better. And indeed, the structure smacked of ego, rather than assistance. People have been marking trails for eons, yes, but they have also been leaving calling cards for just as long, reminders to the future that the person who wrote "Dan'l Boon kilt a bar here" really and truly existed. We'll do anything to immortalize ourselves; we scratch initials in wet concrete, we carve misspelled messages into trees, and we stack rocks in the wilderness. Still and all, though, I hope nobody ever gets lost up there, especially on a brutally cold winter day, especially towards sundown. I assure you the trail will offer no help.