Interpreting the Land: Helping More People Benefit from Conservation

Kim de Bruin had often stood on the sandy summit of Old Baldy, which towers above Arcadia Dunes in northwest Michigan. It was a summer ritual for her family to make the 356-foot climb, with its grand views of Lake Michigan below.

Then, after de Bruin developed muscular dystrophy at 17, Arcadia Dunes felt like a paradise lost. It remained so until 2017, when the accredited Grand Traverse Regional Land Conservancy (GTRLC) built a universal access trail that opened Old Baldy to all. After 43 years, Kim could finally come home again.

“Today, I ‘walked’ in the woods in one of my favorite places,” wrote de Bruin, in a message to GTRLC staff after using the new Overlook Trail. “I saw so many wildflowers, up close and next to me — tons of trilliums! I ‘climbed’ hills, saw fields, valleys, dunes and wildlife. Then I sat on top of the world, enjoying all the beauty of the greatest lake. After I stopped crying, I could see again.”

Such is the life-changing power of access when provided by the diligent work of a land trust.

“I still choke up when I hear Kim’s story,” says Jennifer Jay, GTRLC director of communications and engagement. “It just feels so important to know that we’re protecting land for all people.” For her part, de Bruin now volunteers as a preserve steward at Arcadia Dunes. She wheels along the boardwalk to “share her experience in ways that weren’t possible before.”

Nationwide, land trust staff report a growing need to reach people from more diverse backgrounds, abilities and cultures. As social demographics change, they’re seeing greater demand for accessible trails and new means of interpretation that bring visitors closer to nature. And increasingly they’re learning how the benefits of improved access can work hand in hand with their core mission of preservation.

“Access to nature isn’t a luxury; it belongs to people of all mobilities,” Jay says. “That includes older hikers with hip replacements, or parents with small children and babies in strollers.” That belief was echoed by donors when GTRLC made universal access a pillar of their recent capital campaign. “People stepped up with tremendous gifts and said, ‘We’re so proud of you for thinking this way,’” Jay says.

Universal access does, however, require a higher level of planning, investment and expertise. Few land trusts have the means to make every preserve accessible. On some properties, the terrain and easement restrictions make full access unworkable. Yet in the right location, adding features that welcome people to the land can create preserves that showcase the value of land conservation to the broader community. 

In Montana, it was unusual geography of another sort that made the accredited Five Valleys Land Trust pursue universal access at its Rock Creek Confluence property. “The Rock Creek drainage is very steep, with public trails that all go uphill,” says Jenny Tollefson, FVLT stewardship director. “The Confluence property is a great spot for public access because it’s relatively flat and right off the interstate not far from Missoula.”

The 300-acre parcel was destined to become a 36-unit subdivision until FVLT bought it in 2012. It includes Rock Creek, a blue-ribbon trout stream and a gorgeous cottonwood gallery along the Clark Fork River. Yet saving it was just the beginning. FVLT wants to make the property “a learning lab” for access, and use new interpretation to explain its native history. 

For the former they recruited Brenden Dalin, a recreation management graduate from the University of Montana. Dalin’s an avid fisherman, hunter and skier. He also has paraplegia, and during a 2019 internship with FVLT, directed construction of an all-access gravel trail. Dalin commended a distinct feature installed by staff: an entrance gate that’s wide enough for wheelchairs but too narrow for ATVs.

FVLT also welcomes people who are blind or who have low vision with a sign in Braille and cobblestones lining the trail, which serve as tactile boundaries that can be located with canes. Plans involve converting visual signs into audio format.

To instill a better sense of the property’s tribal history, FVLT turned to local tribal leaders and elders. “This entire area is the homeland of the Salish people,” Tollefson says. “So to help us develop interpretive signs at Rock Creek, we contacted the SéliŠQlispé Culture Committee of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes.”

Early drafts of text for the interpretive signs showed how valuable such input can be. For instance, one proposed sign referred to the Salish people in the past tense, as if they were no longer present. On another, a timeline made it look as if settlers who arrived in the 1800s had been there as long as Native inhabitants. Getting the history right has been a learning process that both parties find beneficial.

“It’s rare to have a group do what Five Valleys did with us,” says Tony Incashola, a Salish and Kootenai tribal elder and director of the SQCC. “They came and met with our elders face to face — not through the mail — to build trust and understanding before we started the project.’’

With SQCC oversight, FVLT has made interpretive signs at Rock Creek that include traditional place names. For Salish people, Incashola says, place names are deeply significant. They tell the story, sometimes from creation onward, of how a place has figured in the lives of Native people. For instance, Flint Stuck in the Ground refers to a spot where tribal people gather flint, or chert, for making arrowheads and tools.

“Many tribes have the capacity and desire to explain their own history,” says Thompson Smith, coordinator of tribal history and geography projects for the SQCC. “If land trusts can give them an opportunity to tell their own story, that’s a very good way to go.”

When it comes to telling a preserve’s story, sometimes a sign isn’t enough. The story’s too complex, and many hikers would rather move than stand and read anyway. As one solution, the accredited D&R Greenway Land Trust in Princeton, New Jersey, turned to a device that hikers are rarely without: their smartphones.

On select D&R Greenway preserves, hikers can listen to custom audio tours from TravelStorys.com. “Since you’re listening and not staring down at your phone, you can still look up while you walk,” says Linda Mead, D&R Greenway president and CEO.

The tours have been a good fit for the land trust, which often hosts content-rich programs in areas such as the arts or climate change. To access the stories, hikers download a free, GPS-driven app. They can walk at their own speed because the app won’t begin a new segment until they’re 15 feet from the next waypoint. And if they can’t walk, as many could not while isolating at home during the pandemic, the app keeps people connected to the outdoors from home.

D&R Greenway pays a $500 annual fee to host its content on TravelStorys.com. The land trust writes the scripts and provides images, while TravelStorys.com handles production. Each tour costs $7,000-$10,000 to produce, but Mead says they’ve been “very fundable” by foundations who like how the stories engage new audiences (some are in Spanish) on and off the trail.

Sometimes TravelStorys.com even helps land trusts find new stories of their own. Such was the case at St. Michaels Farm Preserve, site of a former industrial school and orphanage from 1896 until 1973. The rolling, 400-acre property with its long views of fields and fencerows was purchased from the Catholic Diocese of Trenton in 2010. Then, after the St. Michaels’ TravelStorys.com program was released, D&R Greenway received a remarkable phone call. It came from a woman who knew the place as no one else could.

“She had been the last orphan at St. Michaels in 1973,” Mead says. “Although she’d never spoken in public before, we asked her to share her experiences at an event with 150 people. We laughed and we cried, and when she was done, you could hear a pin drop. As a real estate agent, she now talks to landowners about conservation and has become one of our best volunteers.”