There are usually a multiplicity of reasons why race organizers put on races. Most often, it’s simply never just one reason, but many. What are they? They range from tourism and exposure of an area, economic development for a community in need of a boost or turnaround, showcasing new or existing trails, and so much more. All reasons are valid and important, including financial incentives to make it work and profitable. The good news is that most often, those benefits extend to many other partners, such as local businesses like restaurants and food trucks, lodging accommodations, bike shops, and other vendors. These are all healthy and essential.

But what if one of the reasons for putting on a race was also to raise money to build more trails? Welcome to the Verde Valley Rally in Cottonwood, Arizona.

Unsanctioned trails. Those two words combined can cause a firestorm of emotion, debate, and consternation. That’s why I am launching a new series to explore this topic …

Why explore this topic? Some argue that unsanctioned trails represent a shady and dubious past from which we’re finally breaking away. For some, there’s a level of shame to talk about what took place “back then.” While that is the origin story of mountain biking, many are quick to push it aside and talk about how or why we’ve moved on. Yet, others are tired of the bureaucracy and tortoise-like pace of building “legal” trails. I told you this is a controversial conversation. However, we need to have these difficult conversations.

So, why Cedar City? Why did a few dozen people descend on this small town in southwest Utah? Since this was last October, you might’ve thought we were there for the Annular Solar Eclipse as countless sun watchers migrated to that part of the state. While driving from Vegas, I saw signs along the interstate warning me about traffic congestion during the eclipse. However, we weren’t there for what was up in the sky. We were there instead for the opposite, what’s on planet Earth. Dirt. In particular, trails.

It was bound to happen sooner or later. It’s that moment everyone fears but is needed. It’s an essential step of growth. I call it the “ah crap!” moment. It usually goes in phases something like this … Phase 1 - Yeah! We’re doing this! We started something new! People are stoked! Phase 2 - Ok, sweet. It’s growing! Phase 3 - Wow … it’s growing, like fast … Phase 4 - Whew, I think I’m going to need help and create systems and a more robust infrastructure.

Welcome to Phase 4. I’m excited to update you on what’s happening at Trail Builder Magazine, including tweaks for both online and print content. Ready? Let’s jump into this …

As our plane descended into Portland, the volcanic spine of the Cascade Mountains was in full view out my window. The sun was setting, and each mountain reflected the light like beacons … Mt Hood, Jefferson, Bachelor, and others. They were a sight for weary eyes. Mountains. Snow-capped and glaciated. As our plane wove its way around Mt Hood to line up for landing in Portland, I couldn’t help but trace where I’ve ridden my bike. The dense forest hid all signs of trails, but I knew they were there. Why do I share this?

When it comes to trail building as a profession, it is a dance between building the trails themselves, working with land owners and managers, and the whole business side of things. This Professional Builder Profile Interview series has been invaluable as we get to hear the startup stories of trail builders going all-in on starting their own businesses. The best part is that everyone’s story is unique. That’s because we are all different and come from a variety of backgrounds, countries, cultures, and experiences. I am excited to share this following interview with Daniel Tulla of Mountain Bike Movement in Austria. Enjoy!

Under the umbrella of trail building, there are a wide variety of trails that get built. Most often, when we hear or think of the words “trail building,” our minds are flooded with images ranging from a UCI DH course to the recent Redbull Hardline in Tasmania or even the Redbull Rampage in Utah. We think of massive berms, tabletops, enough jumps, and lots of flow. But have you ever thought about what it takes to build and maintain an XC race course?

What do you get when you mix sandy soil, motivated people, and a dream to inspire others? The Rebellion—that's it. This is our story of how we are transforming a mindset and mountain bike culture in the most unlikely of places.

Flashback to 2021: a dedicated group of us sharing riding tales in a parking lot with some beverages when a couple of our crew approaches us with an idea.

"Let's do what no one thinks is possible!"

"Let's build a downhill-ish bike park in Mobile, Alabama!"

Earlier in the week, I posted this question on our social media, “For those of you who are volunteers, why do you give up weekends (or weekdays) to work on trails?” The responses were overwhelming as there was an outpouring of support for why we work on trails. I’ll share a few of those responses in a moment. But that question and those responses got me thinking about what it is about trail building that is so captivating. Let’s dive into this …

I posted this message on Instagram on February 25, 2022, “Coming soon ... an upcoming magazine dedicated to mountain bike trails and those who build, maintain, and advocate for them.” That’s it. That’s all I knew. I was starting a magazine for trail builders. And since I “spoke it into existence” by creating an Instagram account and posting it, I knew I couldn’t back out.