After months of dark, soggy winter, sunshine does eventually reveal itself for a good spring, summer and early autumn stretch in the Pacific Northwest. This is when Cory George throws his backpack and gear together and hits the trails for warm weather hiking and camping trips. But nothing ruins these jaunts quicker, he says, than “trails covered in horse [droppings].” The experience has left George making a stink, so to speak, about irresponsible equestrians.

Hard feelings on multiple-use trails get boiled down to descriptions of transport: uptight, purist hikers; rip ’n’ shred mountain bikers; heavy-hoofed, trail-demolishing horses with riders. Each group looks to the next as less considerate of other users and as the greater purveyor of damage to outdoor areas. Each group considers itself, to some extent, the most responsible, yet the more maligned.

Hikers tend to see themselves as the lowest impact, most ascetic of the warm weather trail users. George says, “Hikers are purists. Me, my dog, the gear I can carry on my back. That’s it.” Traveling by foot lends itself to leisurely pacing, which lends itself to an all-sensory experience: really seeing the surroundings; taking a deep, pine-tinged breath of fresh air; picking up and turning over a fallen pine cone; listening for bird calls and critter rustlings in the forest. This proximity and pacing makes for a meditative sense of connection with the outdoors. Little more than rubber soles of boots stands between the hiker and the earth.

For mountain bikers, the distance between biker and earth is about the height of an old-school hard tail or some new-fangled, full-suspension piece of velo technology. Though these machines are built for extreme terrain, bikers like Derek Ludvickson would say the bike isn’t the main show, but is rather the means to enjoy the main show of being outdoors. “I see it as hiking, only I’m, like, on a bike,” Ludvickson says. Ludvickson also takes pleasure in testing his strength, agility and competence at negotiating trails using the mechanics and technology of a good bike.

Dave Hallock, also a mountain biker and founder of Eugene, Oregon’s Disciples of Dirt bike club, agrees. “I love cycling,” says Hallock. “I care about it, and I care about the trails.” Since 1987, Disciples of Dirt has functioned as a social riding group and as an ambassadorial body promoting trail maintenance, education and cooperation. He says, “We’re building trails not just for ourselves, but for all users.”

As for interactions with other users, Ludvickson says, “I’ve come up on hikers who didn’t seem too happy to see me. But I just get off my bike or pull off to the side. Mostly hikers and bikers seem cool with each other.” Ludvickson believes that common sense and common courtesy are what allow trail users to enjoy outdoor areas together.

Like George, he reserves more heated complaints for equestrians: “People complain that mountain bikers rip up the trails, but I’ve seen the holes that horses leave behind, not to mention the [droppings].” Ludvickson says equestrian damage seems “way worse” than the impact a responsible mountain biker has on a trail.

Hallock, however, concedes that mountain bikers have their own conflicted reputation. “To a great degree,” he says, “the Mountain Dew image is what people see when they think of mountain biking … A more youthful crowd coming up has new equipment and they’re ready to see how much the bikes can handle.” He believes it takes only a few bikers to perpetuate this extreme-sports image.

Mountain biking nearly twenty years now, Hallock has views on equestrians that tend toward the diplomatic. “I sometimes get angry about the damage … But I’ve found horse people to be open and friendly … Horses and [riders] have been around so long, I could never deny that group their right to trail use.”

Equestrian Mandy Inman believes trail users could be better versed in trail maintenance, safety and etiquette. “There should definitely be opportunities for education and awareness,” she says. But she also believes users could benefit from working more collaboratively.

She says, “There are a lot of places that have banned horses altogether.” While sensitive trails may be inappropriate for equestrian use, Inman says, “mountain bikers tear it up just as bad, if not worse.” Like George and Ludvickson, Inman has found hikers and bikers to be “very considerate.” She has had an occasional run-in with holier-than-thou hikers, but she worries more about off-leash dogs that don’t know horses and can easily spook them.

And Inman understands the grumbling about horse droppings. But she explains, “When you’re on horseback, it just isn’t practical to pull over and clean up after the horse. It would help in a lot of cases if everyone just knew who can be on the trail, and that horse droppings are kind of part of what you can expect.”

Steve Otoupalik, wilderness and trails manager on the McKenzie River Ranger District near Eugene, agrees, explaining that on multiple-use trails, problems such as horse droppings are often more about personal expectations than gripes about equestrians. “You have an expectation of what your day on the trail is going to be,” he says. “On multi-use trails, it’s unrealistic to believe you aren’t going to run into horse manure. It’s even more unrealistic to think [riders] are going to put diapers on horses.” Otoupalik says it’s important that allowed uses be clearly marked at the trailhead so people have clear and realistic expectations. He also believes planning ahead and knowing the area can increase chances for a good experience and decrease chances of user conflict.

Trail users are out for essentially the same deeper reasons: to leave behind the buildings and paved roads of town life, enjoy the glory of nature in good weather, achieve the adrenaline rush of outdoor pursuits in the company of friends together in the forest. Awareness, planning and consideration can help guarantee this for everyone, regardless of the chosen mode of transportation.