Deer Trails

They're a Start, Not an End Goal

Deer having lunch.

The first roads in America were built by deer. As they wandered about the forest in search of food, they would over time find the most efficient way between their bedrooms, or "bedding areas," and their dining rooms, or "feeding areas." 

When they're moving, deer tend to single track, which means they place one hoof directly in front of the other. This means that, as they followed one another, again and again, from bed to breakfast, along the same route, a well-worn path would evolve that was very narrow.

In due course, native Americans, also looking for breakfast (possibly a deer), would follow the deer paths and make a slightly larger trail. When the Europeans arrived and started building roads, these tended to follow the lines laid down by the Indians, and before them the deer.

We don't generally think of colonial roads as being wide, and in comparison to the roadways of the interstate highway system, the old roads were not wide. But they were generally wide enough to allow a farmer to drive his wagon from farm to town, where he could sell his produce and purchase manufactured goods, and perhaps have conversations with other human beings.

I mention all this because deer paths make a comeback in Philadelphia every time we get a few inches of snow. As the snow accumulates on the ground, sturdy townsmen go to their basements, search and find their snow shovels, and go make paths on the sidewalk. 

The shoveler's initial path will follow the trail already laid down by passersby as they trudge through the snow on their way to some destination - work, home, lunch, a cup of coffee. Some homeowners are actually quite willing to let this "deeresque" path be the path on their sidewalk, and leave their shovels in the basement.

Our intrepid passersby, of course, do not shovel snow. They step on it, and grind it down until it turns into ice. This ice-pavement is uneven and slippery, and the path is very narrow - often a single track. If you have any balance issues at all, you will start to widen the path by stepping in the snow alongside, creating a wider, perhaps "Indianesque" path.

It's better, of course, to clear a broad path on the sidewalk before the soft, fluffy snow gets turned into a jagged mess of ice. 

The snow you're shoveling has to go somewhere. I recommend something called the "verge," which is the area of the sidewalk near the curb, where you also generally can find trees and street furniture like signposts and the occasional mailbox, perhaps even a trash can. It's also where the trucks plowing the traffic lanes should be putting their snow. 

You can also pile snow next to the front wall of your house, but be careful not to block the vent from your clothes dryer.

How wide should your path be? I'd say wide enough for a wheelchair or a baby stroller - maybe a double baby stroller. Why? Let me tell you a story.

The worst deer paths, and the most persistent, occur at crosswalks. The snow bank at street corners can often be several feet high - the trucks plowing the traffic lanes for the cars and trucks and buses generally place a lot of snow at the corners. After all, you're plowing two streets at this point, not just one. 

Last Thursday, I announced that I was going to go out and clear some of these high-walled deer paths. And I did - although after discussion with my wife I promised not to go beyond the corner of my block. 

In fact I was only going to do one corner, although I was also going to free the storm drain that was buried under three feet of snow and ice. As I was chipping away, I happened to look up, and across the street, what should appear but two middle aged women accompanying an older woman in a wheelchair. So I crossed and dug out the deer path there. As I worked, we chatted. I got to explain why I usually carry a spade as well as a snow shovel. (It's better at clearing ice. You're likely to break your snow shovel if you use it to hammer ice.) When I was done, one of the ambulatory ladies offered me a tip. I declined with thanks.

The next day, the City came with equipment and cleared the corners in my neighborhood. (The crews also plowed at least some of the little streets and even made some improvement in the bike lanes.) So maybe I can leave my tools in the basement, at least for a while.

See also Snowbound.