Last year, I conducted a memorable interview with French environmentalist Claire Nouvian. She’d just been awarded the prestigious Goldman Environmental Prize for her work with BLOOM Association, a non-profit that uses scientific data and public outreach to effectively dismantle destructive deep-sea industrial fishing practices, first in France, and now worldwide.
Things were going well until I asked what I thought was a fairly softball question: “What gives you hope for the future?” Nouvian replied, “Do you want an answer that sounds nice, or do you want to hear the truth?” I gulped, then asked for the latter. Her response was chilling—we’d already reached the point of no return. The damage wrought upon the world’s oceans was now irreversible; all we could hope to do was simply slow its progression.
Silent on the receiving end, I gulped again, then maybe twice more for good measure.
It’s overwhelming to consider the scope and scale of environmental degradation experienced even in our lifetime. It’s not just ocean health, but a host of other issues: climate change, species extinction, natural resource depletion, ongoing environmental racism, and so much more. It’s equally overwhelming to figure out my own role in collectively working toward a healthier planet, which means that I’m bumbling through it like the next person who is not, say, an award-winning, policy-changing, movement-fronting environmentalist.
So that means I read. Listen. Talk. Donate. Volunteer. Research. Write. I evolve my thinking, alter my habits, hopefully learn a few things, and maybe even help change a few other minds along the way. But I’ve also found a tiny speck of hope—that stuff that seems so very difficult to come by at times—in a small, quiet action that I can take every single day: picking up other people’s litter. I know, I know—scooping up a spent Starbucks cup isn’t going to save a sea turtle, level our rising seas, or purify the Flint water supply, but hear me out.
I’ve always been both a worrier and a bit of a starry-eyed idealist. In middle school, I launched the People’s Environmental Club (or as we called it, PEC, because we were the sophisticated type of kids who liked acronyms) with my buddy Erik. Our sole project was snapping up candy wrappers and other stuff we found discarded around the Boys’ and Girls’ Club grounds, which we planned to bury in a “time capsule” that we could dig up in a few decades. (As it turns out, they ended up in the trash, which was probably a better outcome, honestly.)
In high school, when I was highly enamored of the Natural Wonders store at the mall and owned at least one non-ironic wolf T-shirt, I read Silent Spring and Walden, could recite The Lorax by heart, and wrote a lot of really awful poetry about how the royal We needed to save The Trees. In college, I taught outdoor education during the summers and forged my mom’s signature (I was 17 during my freshman year; also—sorry, mom) so I could attend an environmental conference five states away. This sort of goofy, but well-meaning do-gooderism bled into adulthood.
It wasn’t long until I moved into more committed actions, including donating both time and money to organizations fighting for environmental justice and policy change, but it never quite satisfied the itch to participate in something that offered immediate results, a sort of impossibility when you’re hoping to make a dent in, for example, the sprawling beast that is climate change.
Then I heard about Granite Gear’s Grounds Keepers program. Inspired by the Packing It Out project, which launched in 2015 when a trio of hikers cleared over a thousand pounds of trash from the Appalachian Trail while traveling its length, the brand decided to sponsor a crew of thru-hikers who would do the same on long trails around the country. The program has since expanded to include non-backpackers who pledge to clean up not only trails, but also green spaces and waterways—people who are also trying to do something, anything. As of this writing, they’ve hauled away a staggering 6,630 pounds of litter from natural places.
I served as a Grounds Keeper during the program’s inaugural year, sweeping the Colorado Trail as I traveled southbound during the summer of 2017. I carried a litter grabber (sent home at the first opportunity; my own grubby paws proved more efficient) and a small bag latched onto my waist belt. Inside, I dumped bits of shiny foil, full wrappers, mysterious plastic bits, spent batteries, wads of tissue, fishing line, and so much more, discarded by folks who either weren’t aware that they’d let something drop, or didn’t particularly care. Other things didn’t fit inside—single-use plastic water bottles, in particular, but also a freshly laundered bike chamois that some poor bikepacker lost while careening downhill during a particularly lumpy stretch.
The exercise became routine, almost Pavlovian—I’d spot a glint in the bushes, stop to retrieve my quarry, then receive an ever-so-slight hit of dopamine. I’ve done a good thing. Smile, walk, repeat. But even more meaningful was the effect my exercise in litter patrol had on others. There was my hiking buddy, MacGuyver, who went from simply pointing out refuse to becoming my accomplice, stuffing trash in his own pockets as we walked. And the countless people who caught me in action and asked why I kept interrupting my hike—and why I was purposefully making my load heavier. After I answered, some of those folks said that they, too, would commit to keeping an eye on the ground.
All told, I plucked a few pounds of litter over the course of a few weeks on trail. Two years removed, I continue the mission—during my morning hikes in a nearby park, while camping in the backcountry, and even along the Los Angeles River, both with an equally optimistic friend and as part of larger community cleanups. It still feels good every single time. And people still stop to ask what I’m doing.
Sure, picking up a few pieces of litter might seem nearly inconsequential when you think about the big picture. But here’s the thing—it feels tangible. Immediate. It’s something I can do every day, and something that can inspire others to perhaps view their immediate environment a little differently. To give back. To care. And ultimately, to feel just a little less overwhelmed.
Or simply because one leaves a place better than you found it.
Yup, that sucker is cooked, the future will be bleak(er).
There’s always hope, but it’s cost a lot to fix what we’ve done; what we continue to do.
Pick up trash, avoid buying things that generate trash, eat vegetarian, walk or ride instead of drive, plant trees.
enjoyed reading that. thanks
I carry stuff out on just about every hike I go on. It’s disturbing just how cavalier some people are about dumping anything and everything off into the woods. Almost as bothersome is how many people walk right by that stuff and never think to bend over and pick it up themselves. I can’t do anything about the tires and furniture, but I do my best to carry out the small stuff. Out of that stuff anything that qualifies goes into the weekly recycling bin. Anything that has a deposit, gets dropped into the machine at the store for a deposit refund ( last month I made around $5 just in deposit money ). The rest goes out with the weekly trash.
On a paddle next to the cliffs of the Golden Gate the other day I brought back 5! big plastic bags floating in the rocks near sunning seals. Every time I paddle in that area I end up with a little pile of plastic gathered on top of my surfboard. The water there looks so pristine, but it’s filled with plastic too.
Thanks. Very inspiring.
I do this whenever I hike. Really makes me sad when I see a plastic bottle or aluminum can winking at me well down a steep ravine from the trail.
But I do my part as I can, and hope my visible Walmart plastic bag of trash shames others into packing theirs out as well.
‘Leave No Trace’ is the absolute best philosophy for the backcountry. It really needs to be taught as the default.
Great article. I always carry trash bags and poop bags in my car so when i’m out I always have something to put trash into. We can’t and shouldn’t wait for governments to solve all of our environmental problems so as previously suggested: eating less animal products, planting trees, using reusable/durable bags and containers along with picking up trash all make a positive difference.
Its great that you do this on your local trails, I do it too. But one of the major problems with this is that the problem areas are the big name brand trails. I’ve picked up ~5kg of plastics on the AT over a few years, but I picked up closer to 30kg on the Around Annapurna Trek. So don’t forget to remind people to do the same on their other treks, and in life in general, on the train, in the street…
Overall, fantastic though
For all the times my mother picked up after me when i was a kid…now I pick-up to honour her and Mother Earth.
I’m a runner that picks up litter. I like to run trails but the majority of my miles are just on the roads by my house. Over the years I’ve cleaned up countless bags of litter, you really can’t tell though I’m fighting a losing battle.
But I know what I’ve done and I’ll continue to do so because I believe in trying. Thanks for the article, it’s nice to hear I’m not the only one trying!
I used to be gung-ho about stuff like this. However, age and experience has taught me that real change starts with action placed at the *root* of the issue.
For example, we buy so many things that come with packaging that is quickly throw away. Why not work with companies to reduce their packaging needs and resource use? Plus, work with the companies that make the packaging, to engineering less packaging and therefore less resource use, less trash. That is where the effort needs to go. Ideally, we find ways to not use one-use packaging at all. Grocery stores are a perfect place to reduce waste. There is no need to put 10 different kinds of produce in ten different plastic bags that are going to end up in the landfill. Just use resusable canvas bags, or something along those lines. You’ll cut your plastic bag consumption by hundreds per year.
So, while I applaud people who go around and pick up trash, it’s like putting a band-aid on a gunshot wound.
Why do people dump tires and furniture? Perhaps because they cannot afford to have it hauled away.
Neat stuff; keep on keeping on! 😉
I’ve been unable to go out in the mountains or woods for a couple of years due to being a 24/7/365 caretaker of my parents. However, I frequently pick up trash in parking lots, at building entrances, and when walking the dogs around the neighborhood.
I also road my bicycle when I had a paying job that didn’t involve taking my parents with me. And, I’ve eaten a plant-based diet since the 70’s.
There is definitely a collective attitude of “don’t care” wherever I go. When I went to a church food pantry to get food last year, there were two men standing in the parking lot with food they’d been given for free. One ripped open a pkg of food and threw the plastic packaging on the ground. What a way to thank the church for giving him food!
Yesterday, I got out of my car and walked around to Dad’s side to help him out. He had to step into a pile of cig butts thrown out of the car next to us. In that car was an employee of the store, smoking another cigarette. When he got out of his car, he walked past us and tossed his drink cup on the ground, almost as if to shout out how much he doesn’t care about his employer or the planet.
But, looking at these men, I noticed one other thing: they looked like they’re destroying themselves. So, maybe that’s what comes first: When someone gives up, they become self-destructive and then they destroy everything in their path as well.
My parents and I have always done this. I’m over 60. It’s not a new thing.
Litter seems to attract more litter, so my two grandsons and I pick up litter on the rural county roads near my home. Periodic removal lowers the draw to litter breaking point.
In Boy Scouts they teach you to leave a place cleaner than you found it, so I pick up trash in natural areas. In town, I mostly just grab nails and things that would give people a flat tire.
I thought it was just the kid in me that provided the urge to pick “stuff” up.
On the beach, it is exciting to collect pieces of rope. Even though the plan to do something with all the pieces never amounts to anything, it is better than having those lengths disintegrate in the stomachs of various sea-life making them starve to death.
Before converting to electric transportation, don’t forget that driving slower uses less gasoline! So allow for extra time to get to your destination.
I pick up other people’s litter every day. Sometimes, when I’m out walking my dog, I’ll bring a large bag with me and fill it up.
It makes me so angry that people leave their food trash (95% of what I see is food trash) on the ground. It is SO selfish. And I can’t tell you how often people do it when there are trash cans nearby. I will carry trash with me until I can correctly dispose of it. I will never litter for any reason. But yes, picking up trash is SOMETHING I can actually do for this planet, and if other people do the same thing, it really adds up.
As for people not of the mindset to pick up other people’s trash, they should at the very least be decent enough NOT to litter. No excuses.
Thanks for a great article and for all that you do!
A 3-way benefit occurs when patronizing charity organizations i.e. Goodwill, Salvation Army, Savers,church thrift shops: my source for nearly ALL my clothes and small household items. Outcome ? My budget balances (#1), I support worthwhile organizations (#2), and MANY of my thrifty “finds” get cleaned, repaired, sometimes adapted into a something else useful and given as GIFTS-FOR-ANY-OCCASION (#3). Recycling in creative ways stems waste and tames urges to shop NEW ! at the Mall or boxstores. btw: pieces of trash are picked up as I walk into these charity store treasure troves. Does bending over each time count as exercise ?
Good inspiration! We have to clean up our Mother Earth to keep her functioning well. For years, my husband, my son, and his friends participated in Earth Day’s great American cleanup, doing our part in Hillsborough County Florida. We cleaned up roadways and the Courtney Campbell Causeway between Tampa and Clearwater, where a lot of fishing debris was found on the rocks. We were given plastic trash bags, pizza, and T-shirts with the County Cleanup logo and names of sponsors. As I was retrieving some cans with my grabber, I was approached for an interview by a reporter for the Tampa Tribune. I shared my thoughts and the article appeared in the next issue. Felt good about our efforts and encouragement to others. My husband and son were responsible fishermen among those rocks and cleaned up in between. On a cleanup along Gunn Hwy, near our neighborhood, I cleaned around an abandoned gas station and found items on the ground near a vacuum machine. Something wrapped in tissue caught my eye. It was a beautiful crystal heart! I was given a Thank You gift among the trash items! I almost cried. How is that for validation? I treasure it today. Sadly, we also found a dead cat, identical to the sick kitten I had adopted from 2 boys at that gas station on my way home from work one day. She was a calico tortoise color (dark with gold specks) with a deformed tail, curled into a loop. We think she was the mother of our “Ootsie Patootsie”, probably hit by a car. I have found piles of trash on walks in woods and went back with bags to haul it out. Every little bit counts. When we had enough cans, we’d take them to the local recycling place and get money for the aluminum, so cleaning up pays, too. If everyone cleaned up near their homes, businesses, the sewers, rivers, roads would not be glutted with debris, and the environment would be cleaner.
Nice to see others pick up other people’s trash too. My motivations are not as altruistic as the author’s, though. Mostly I figure as much time as I spend in the outdoors I probably drop my share of unintentional trash so by picking up other’s trash I hope to at least even the score and maybe come out a little ahead. And truly, there is a little rush when I dump that trash in the garbage bin.
Too old to go in backwoods anymore, but I pick up trash going into stores, on the street or while getting gas. I also take a cart into the grocery store from the parking lot.
IF you do not pick up that one piece of litter, people will take the cue and litter more around that. Un-littered streets and trails make most people think twice.
i always try and pick up litter, it pisses me off to no end when people throw huge trash bags out the window on highways, weird
I always bring back more than I pack in. Short story. 20 years ago or so my brother and 5 year old niece were hiking in a Nevada State park. We collected several bags of trash and I told my niece we would take it to the ranger station and maybe they would give her something for her efforts. Needless to say they weren’t interested in rewarding a small up and coming conservationist. I explained that we would simply go back out and put everything back where we found it so others could enjoy their trashy park. I was pretty worked up at this time. I asked if we could talk with a supervisor and in the end my niece was given a small reward. It would be great if our parks would reward the kids for their efforts (it might get the adults involved). Anyway I just had to share my story. Thanks for the piece.
I try to do this when I walk to work – on the theory that the stuff will wash into the storm drains and thence to the ocean. And when I go for a walk on the beach I take one of those reusable grocery bags, fill it with litter, dump the litter out and wash the bag. FYI – I found $5.00 on the way to work one morning – it needed a wash, too, but it was real money so it survived.
Did the John Muir Trail 2 years ago and every single day found numerous pieces of micro trash along the trail. It amazed me 1. that other hikers were so careless and/or thoughtless, and 2. that no other hiker had bothered to pick up the garbage I found.