Seeing horizontal in a vertical world

I learned of another approach to marking trails while doing research for an article for The Iowan.  "Before highways and road signs" was published in the May/June issue. I'm reprinting the piece here with permission. For other cool articles about Iowa, pick up a copy of the magazine. The July/August issue is on news stands.

Before highways and road signs

Before there were exit ramps and highway signs, people still needed to know where to go and how to find things. Native Americans - even back to archaic times - used a system of shaping trees into markers to serve that purpose.

"People learned to look for horizontal shapes in a vertical world," says Dennis Downes of Antioch, IL, who has spent the last 30 years researching Trail Marker Trees across the United States. "To be a successful hunter, you needed to spot the horizontal shape of a deer in the forest. An oak or elm tree shaped into a trail marker was another horizontal shape."

Trail Marker Trees identified the best places to ford a river; marked the way to find fresh water, mineral deposits, or medicinal plants; pointed the directions to find nut trees or hunting areas. "Europeans didn't know what the markers meant," says Downes, but Native Americans did. Trail Marker Trees were carefully groomed year after year, allowing people to pass knowledge from generation to generation."

Another type of arboreal architecture - Landmark Trees - served a similar purpose. One such Landmark Tree was the "Anderson H-tree" that marked a known Indian trail coming off the Skunk River near Story City.  Since succumbing to Dutch elm disease in the mid-1970s, the H-tree is seen only in historical photos.

Downes says Trail Marker Trees - now 200 years old - still exist in Iowa. Some live on only in photos taken by settlers who noticed their unique architecture.

If you spot a possible Trail Marker Tree, contact: research@greatlakestrailtreesociety.org. For more information, contact: http://www.greatlakestrailtreesociety.org/

Photo by Brian Bucholtz

Who marks the way?

Growing up on a dairy farm, I had many opportunities to bring the cows up from the pasture for milking. Walking in single file, the cows headed for the barn, inevitably using the same paths over and over until the trails were deeply etched along ridges and in valleys.

I walked where the cows walked, wondering from time to time: Who made the first path? How did that one decide? Why did each cow follow along?

These questions came to mind again when I threaded my way through the prairie this week, stepping along invisible paths known only to me, pointing out plant after plant to a friend. My friend held back, hesitating to follow for fear of crushing a tender prairie plant. "You need paths so people can come in and not be afraid of stepping wrong," she said.

Pioneers crossing the prairie followed the paths made by trappers. Trappers followed paths made by Native Americans. Native Americans followed paths made by animals. Almost always, some one or some thing came before. Found the easiest or most expedient way. Intentionally or not, that first traveler left a trail that others could follow.

I took my friend's suggestion to heart. Yesterday I hauled wheelbarrows of wood chips to the prairie and marked paths for others to follow - curving around plants, weaving in and out and around. The result is a bit of a maze.

The prairie plants are becoming so tall that children could wander these paths and be lost for a very brief moment. They could imagine, as I do, being a pioneer, following a path left by someone else, but seeing a new place for the very first time, rounding a curve and discovering a remarkable sight of amazing beauty.

It is seldom that any of us gets to be the very first at anything. My little prairie may be the only opportunity I get to be the very first to mark a trail in uncharted territory. What a responsibility - but what fun - to mark the way for others to follow.