Boyd,
I judiciously cleared my lot during torrid summer weekends in 1996, trying to minimize harm to flora and fauna. I tried to convince myself a green approach would be forgiving. Time has proven otherwise. The first year I could count a dozen box-turtles in a week; each with their own personality. Bright-orange crowned "Firehead" was a favorite, an ancient male who had no fear of humans. Now we're lucky if five show up the whole season.
My house house was built atop a Pleistocene protodune, a prominence towering nearly a meter above a pretty flat plain. It is also the preferred location for box-turtles to lay their eggs. It is also a place where solitary bees still nest by the hundreds every spring, safe from pesticides as I garden all organic.
Firehead's woodlot was protected as wetland buffer and critical barred owl habitat—or so I thought. The assumption that Pinelands rules will protect sensitive or critical habit is no longer valid. Two parabolic dune arms were destroyed for two houses, and so went prime box-turtle habitat along with certified barred owl habitat. Ultimately the builder did go bust.
Rarely do I take clothing precautions against ticks, chiggers, or spiders—then or now. Logging boots, work shorts, and tee-shirts suffice, with a light-tan broad-brimmed hat to keep buck flies at bay. No gloves. I hate heat, love cold. Recently I've added chainsaw chaps and a hardhat to conform to safety standards on my woodlot. In my opinion it is better to know sooner than later if critters are crawling up your legs. Pants in shoes leave a false sense of security.
Inexplicably ticks and chiggers never been much of a problem around my place. I never got chiggers until I was a senior in high school, the place being back near Sweeten Water in Peaslee's. The night the coyote ran off with a duck, two other ducks hid deep in the woods. I walked in crisscross search through 13-acres of my thickest woods in shorts and logging boots. Not one tick or chigger found me, the same as when I cleared the land. It is not clear if ticks don't like me or they just aren't there. Happy ending, Spot (the duck) has fully recovered her deep top-and-bottom bites after weeks of nursing her back to health.
As for spiders, they are often hidden under decaying logs and beneath old loose tree bark. Be careful where you sit! It was by chance that I met the spider systemicist at the time I was bit by spiders. He returned to the UK before we could meet on site, as he seemed to think that new species might be found in the Pines. I have no doubt some of the bites were spiders, as I could feel them jump onto my bare calf and on occasion slapped them dead.
S-M