How to Become a Leave No Trace Champion

Kayla Carter • June 2, 2026

Leave No Trace Instructor Kayla Carter shares how we can all be environmental champions

First comes the quiet realization that you are neither the first nor the last visitor to a wild place, and then comes the awe of knowing it is not yours to own, but to protect.

Every footprint, every campsite, every choice has an impact on our land. The question isn’t about whether we have an adverse impact because we definitely do. The question is: How do we reduce our impact and how much we care to do so?

As outdoor recreation continues to grow, so does the responsibility to protect the public lands we love. Over time, we’ve learned that even small behaviors — where we step, what we pack out, how we build a fire — can shape the health of an entire ecosystem.

That’s where Leave No Trace (LNT) comes in.

Outdoor educators and conservationists have worked together to identify behaviors that help us become better stewards of the places we love. The result of this collaboration is LNT, which is a framework built on research, observation, and care. It’s more than a checklist. LNT is a mindset.

LNT invites us to move through forests, rivers, and ridgelines (even daily life) with humility and intention. It combines research-backed best practices with a shared ethic of respect for land, water, wildlife, and other visitors.

At the heart of LNT are seven core principles:

Plan Ahead and Prepare: Know regulations, prepare for weather, and minimize unnecessary packaging of food and other items that may inadvertently be left behind. Consider group size limits and carry a map.
Travel and Camp on Durable Surfaces: Stay on established trails and camp at existing campsites whenever possible. Avoid fragile ecosystems.
Dispose of Waste Properly: Pack out all trash. Even better, pick up trash you come across. Use restroom facilities when available. If bathrooms are not available, bury waste 6-8 inches deep at least 200 feet from water sources.
Leave What You Find: Leave natural objects and cultural artifacts as you find them.
Minimize Campfire Impact: Consider using a stove for cooking, use fire rings when possible and keep campfires small, burning wood to ash if fires are allowed. Fully douse campfires with water when done.
Respect Wildlife: Observe wildlife from a distance and store food securely to minimize the potential for conflict.
Be Considerate of Other Visitors: Keep noise down, yield on trails, and maintain a friendly attitude.

Each one offers practical guidance, but together they create something deeper: a culture of shared stewardship. These principles may seem simple, but when practiced consistently, they create meaningful, lasting change for the land and people. This is your invitation to be part of this mindset.

Last July, participants joined Nolichucky Outdoor Learning Institute (NOLI) for a Level 1 LNT course to deepen their understanding of how everyday outdoor decisions can reduce impact and strengthen stewardship. Since then, several of them have gone on to share what they learned with many others. Anne Padgett, a certified Tennessee Naturalist, set up a at Wilderness Wildlife Week on behalf of NOLI to share the LNT message with attendees. She is also seeking to work with schools and homeschool groups to host workshops in the future.

“Adults and kids really enjoy being interactive with the decomposition game,” Padgett said. “They were very shocked by the timeline for some of the litter items."

For example, cigarette butts take on average 1-5 years to decompose, and plastic bags take 10-20 years. Plastic bottles can take around 450 years or more to decompose, and plastics in general are especially problematic since they break down into microplastics over time. This process can extend their environmental impact even further. Similarly, nylon fishing line can take 600 or more years to decompose and poses a hazard to wildlife when abandoned. The worst culprit? Glass bottles, which can take a million years or longer to breakdown.

"It’s a wonderful feeling to see young and old learning so much from what seems like a simple guessing game”, Anne continues.

Amanda Lank, Interpretive Ranger at Rocky Fork State Park, has recently implemented LNT into her programming. She even had a prospective Appalachian Trail thru-hiker attend a program to learn about LNT.

“He hoped to gain knowledge before he got out there," she said. “He wanted to make sure he was doing his part to protect the environment.”

Lank shared that she is thankful for the experience and all the valuable information she learned through the course.

“It’s a wonderful feeling to know that the knowledge you all shared with me can be put back into my work at Rocky Fork,” she said.

If you, too, are interested in joining Amanda, Anne and many others in deepening your connection to public lands, consider signing up for the Level 1 Leave No Trace instructor course with NOLI on July 11-12, 2026. This is a great opportunity to come face-to-face with peers who all are working together toward a shared goal -- to be better champions and stewards of our natural places. NOLI also offers free LNT Workshops for groups by request. Contact us for more information.

We hope to see you out there!

Author Kayla Carter is a Leave No Trace Level 2 Instructor and has thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail.

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A group of people are paddling kayaks on a lake.

Kayak Safety & Rescue: Life Lessons in Haro Strait

By Rob Schoborg • July 16, 2026

It was a nearly perfect morning on the Washington state Pacific coast. My wife (Michelle) and I had a delicious breakfast, broke down camp, loaded our rented tandem kayak, and paddled down the sheltered bay that bisects Stewart Island. Along with our guide, Annie, we ran with the tide and a light southwesterly breeze to make the three-mile open water crossing to Henry Island. As we crossed in the 2-foot swells, we were just cruising, enjoying the warmth of the sun, and gazing toward the horizon hoping for our first orca sighting of the trip. Once we passed west of the tip of Henry Island, we headed south a bit and our guide signaled that we would take a break in a field of bull kelp. Thickets of bull kelp make an ideal resting place for sea kayakers because the kelp floats, which are round and 3 to 8 inches across, protrude from the water and break up the momentum of the waves. We stopped for a few minutes, bobbing up and down with the swell, occasionally chatting but mostly taking sips from our water bottles. Over the sound of waves and calling birds, Michelle heard a distant noise. It sounded like a cry for help – or was it a gull? We listened for a few seconds when another, more distinct yell rang out. For an instant we all hesitated, trying to determine the direction of the cries. From our vantage point low to the water, all we could see was dark bull kelp floats scattered across the ocean’s surface. It sounded like the panicked calls were coming from somewhere between us and the shoreline, so we sprinted southeast through the kelp patch toward shore. After we broke through the offshore kelp forest, we spotted two small dark objects on the surface alongside something that looked like a partially submerged log. As the distance closed, the larger object resolved into a flooded green aluminum canoe. The smaller ones were two middle school age boys struggling to reenter the water-filled boat. Every time they tried to enter; the boat would flip. As we neared, they quit trying to enter their boat. Instead, they hung onto the hull of the now inverted canoe and stared quietly as we approached. Michelle and I coasted up on the right side, leaving about a 5-foot gap between our tandem and the canoe, just in case the boys panicked and tried to climb on the deck of our boat before we were prepared. Caution is necessary in a situation like this because a panicking victim can easily capsize a would-be rescuer’s boat - leaving more people in the water. Annie coasted up a similar distance on the left side of the flooded craft. Our first evaluation was that the boys had been in the water for at least fifteen minutes. They were shivering, minimally responsive, and their movements were clumsy. After quickly weighing the options and their condition, we agreed that we could get them out of the water and warm them up more quickly by towing them to shore than by attempting to get the boys back into their boat. We then instructed the closest victim to grab the left perimeter line behind the rear cockpit of our tandem. At first, he refused because he did not want to release the cell phone in his right hand. The impasse was broken when Annie slid her boat up on his left side and convinced him to hand the phone to her. The other boy was similarly coaxed to grab the left stern perimeter line of Annie’s boat. We then started toward shore in the direction of the nearest cottage. When we had closed to within 75 yards of the house, a man came out onto the shore, saw us towing the boys, launched a tandem sit on top kayak, and headed out toward us. The boys, who were shaking with cold, were handed life vests and then hauled aboard the sit on top kayak by their father, while we stabilized the boat. As the reunited family headed back toward shore, we recovered the flooded canoe and towed it to shore. After this brief but adrenaline-filled detour, we continued our journey southwards down the Haro Straight, skirting the shore of Henry Island.