Depending on where you live, and whether you ride off-road, you have likely (hopefully) noticed a change in trail-building in recent years. From design to the miles and amount of trails, wayfinding to apps, it’s a whole new world compared to just ten years ago.
Mountain bikers “of a certain age” (mine) cut their teeth on trails designed for hiking. These trails often had stairs, sections too steep to ride, and then, “no bike” signs at their entrances. With the advent of the sport came groups like IMBA (International Mountain Bicycling Association) and countless local, regional and state coalitions dedicated to gaining access to these trails. And after a few years of fighting—powers-that-be, other user groups, burnout—a shift to purpose-built trails began to take hold.
This shift was able to occur for a variety of reasons. Some of these included more people advocating for access, a realization that, actually, we don’t want to be on hiking trails, and finally a professionalization of both advocacy and trail building. And don’t get me wrong, some of those hiking trails were really fun to ride, and many still deserve to be bike legal—trails that are a gazillion miles from anywhere, that any reasonable person would agree are too remote for hikers but nicely accessible to the dedicated cyclist (a little Paradigm shout-out to the Marin peeps…).
But I digress. In 1995, IMBA published the Trail Development & Construction for Mountain Bicycling manual. According to IMBA, “It was the first-ever comprehensive, professional and widely-distributed manual designed to aid cyclists in the development of trails, particularly the type of trails we so enjoy.” And the types of trails we “so enjoy” are those with sinuosity, loops, views and flow. Add some berms, drops and gnar, and we’re all smiles.
And with all the purpose-built, mountain bike optimized trails out there these days, it can be hard to remember how it used to be. Like when you watch a movie from the Pleistocene Era and hear the modem screech or a dial tone and think “oh, gosh, I guess we don’t ever hear dial tones anymore. Weird.” This makes you feel old, and like your grandparents when they used to say “Well when I was a kid….” in that voice, but fortunately riding your bike on an old school trail isn’t the same. It can still be rad, but you will probably chalk it up to nostalgia and go shred your local club-built trail next week.
I’d hazard a guess that most mountain bikers are also hikers, even if only occasionally. Last week I wanted a quick hike versus a ride. In thinking where to go, I quickly ruled out all of the “good stuff” I usually head for on my bike. Those berms and looping loops are great to ride but are the stuff of an Escher-like nightmare to hike. Like a rat in a maze, you’d hike north-south-north-east-west-east-west-east-south-north-south-OH-FOR-GOD-SAKES-WHAT-FRESH-HELL-IS-THIS??? as you throw yourself off the 37th switchback and land on a mountain biker.
And this is great news (not the landing on a biker part). Since hiking came first, there are usually plenty of options for the bi-pedal crowd. With not only more absolute miles of trail open to bikes, but with the clever use of directional trails, signage, and “suggested direction” shown in apps like TrailForks and MTB Project, a trail system can support many more riders of many different levels without ever feeling crowded, and with a minimal amount of user conflict.
All of this next-level stuff from organizing to planning, designing, permitting, and constructing comes at a cost. A literal one. While Jimmy-the-teacher, Jill-the-high-school-student and Nina-the-software engineer like to think they can just dig a trail in their neighborhood forest and all will be well, it likely won’t. Does that magnificent trio know about hydrology? Sensitive habitats? Property lines? Soil stability? Probably not. And rogue trail-building really makes the landowner/manager cranky and a cranky owner/manager isn’t gonna want to allow continued access and also threatens efforts to create legitimate trails.
So, while a quarter to a half-million-dollar price tag for five miles of trail may make your beer fly out of your nose, next time we’ll talk about the costs of paved trails, and you’ll lose your lunch. But the good news is that local, regional, state and federal jurisdictions as well as private foundations and philanthropists are recognizing the value a well-designed trail system provides in terms of economic activity, mental and physical health, social cohesion and damn it, yes, world peace because why not.
A May, 2023 study by the University of Arkansas titled Estimating the Economic and Health Benefits of Bicycling in Northwest Arkansas determined that “the bicycling ecosystem in Northwest Arkansas generates an economic impact of $159 million.” An additional $59 million in chronic disease costs are avoided, those related to diabetes, heart disease, and obesity, among others.
And to be clear, these numbers were not the result of scooching some dirt around and creating cute trail names. In the case of Northwest Arkansas, it is no secret that the Walton Family digs mountain biking and have invested heavily in putting Bentonville on the map with wrap-around bike ++ offerings (to wit, a world-class art museum, lodging and dining across the spectrum, university courses in trail building, and of course, the trails and bike-related services themselves).
So yes, trails are different these days, and you can thank your town, local club, or that national organization who are all in your inbox this week asking for your support to continue this work. You can also thank yourself. That one hour of trail work, that $10 donation, that raffle ticket—they all add up to be the change you want to see in the world (or at least in the trail world ????).
