THROWING DIRT: THE COMMUNITIES THAT MAKE IT ALL POSSIBLE
Mountain biking touched my life at a very young age. My seven-year-old body was equipped with my mom’s early 90s-era flat-top-tube hardtail. Reflectors donned the bars and the back of the saddle, while polished bar ends kept my hands in place. The barely reliable dual grip shifts cycled through most of the classic 3x6 drivetrain.
With the seat fully pounded into the frame, my running shoes barely slipped into the baskets of the pedals. My palms were protected by fingerless gloves, my head by a maroon visorless helmet, and my knees by pads that came with a set of rollerblades sat beneath my cargo shorts. We rode the cross-country trails that traversed the forested woods of Southeastern Michigan—each short hill leading to the next short descent. Even if I had a picture from this time, I wouldn’t share it with you all.
Fast forward a few decades: the old hardtail with 80mm of front travel has given way to a top-of-the-line downhill bike, the rollerblade pads have been replaced by full body armor, and the cargo shorts have been traded for a full sponsored kit. Between these two points, I have meandered through nearly every sect of the sport. I rode gravel before it was cool, took spontaneous 40+ mile adventure rides, bikepacked to remote cabins, grinded up fire roads to gnarly descents, and, of course, ridden a LOT of downhill.
Each of these disciplines has a different core audience, with different priorities and opinions on what makes a "good" bike or a "good" trail. None is more justified or “pure” than the next, but what is common among them all is that mountain biking doesn’t exist without a community behind it.
Historic photo dump:
The Hidden Cost of the Shred
The trails I have been so fortunate to put tires on throughout my life are only possible due to thousands of people and an untold number of man-hours that went into them. Anyone who has tried to create something knows just how difficult it can be. Building a trail is more than just putting shovels in dirt; it requires organization, advocacy, and funding. I am infinitely thankful to the passionate people who pioneered the sport for mountain biking, and this article is a call to action to keep those dreams going.
Today, I’m lucky to call Northwestern Oregon home. When I moved here nearly a decade ago, the local mountain biking scene was small. Access to trails was relatively limited, particularly for those seeking the "new school" way of riding sweeping the international landscape. There never seemed to be a place to ride that didn’t require a few hours in the car.
Today, the scene is much different. Portland-area mountain biking has exploded. "Social" trails have been organized, made public, and expanded upon. Local government and private organizations have provided funding and land to improve recreation and dedicated mountain bike trails. All this was made possible by a few very dedicated volunteers and passionate riders.
The Westside Trail Federation (WTF) and the Northwest Trail Alliance (NWTA) are the two primary organizations driving this progress, fighting for access that many once thought was impossible in this region. They work tirelessly to keep trail advocacy on the public radar, but they cannot secure the future of our trails alone.
"The World is Run by Those W![]()
ho Show Up"
If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably asking: what can I do to help?
The shortest answer is to get involved. Benjamin Franklin said, “The world is run by those who show up.” At Moon Gravity Racing, we’ve been trying to put our money where our mouth is by taking every opportunity to help our local builders. Over the last few weeks, we’ve spent time with cameras and shovels at both WTF and NWTA build days, moving dirt alongside our fellow riders.
What initially sounded like a chore has become one of the most enjoyable parts of our week. This is easy to say while I’m currently recovering from shoulder surgery, but the opportunity to work alongside these amazing people—collectively leaving our mark on the land one shovel scoop at a time—has been insanely rewarding for the soul.
At this time of year, both organizations usually have at least one build day a week (weather permitting). The wet winter makes the dirt easy to shape and hold together. You can refer to their websites listed below for more information on how to get involved:
How to Help (Without Sacrificing Every Saturday)
Life is hard, and no one is asking you to overextend yourself. One of the coolest parts of the mountain bike community is how supportive it is. The sport is inherently dangerous and costly to the body; at one time or another, everyone gets set back and needs a lift from the community.
There are many ways to contribute without sacrificing every Saturday morning:
- Memberships: These organizations are not cheap. Joining a membership provides funds for land leases and insurance. Higher membership numbers also carry weight when advocating for trails or applying for grants.
- Professional Skills: Organizations like WTF are looking for more than just muscle. If you are good with websites, financing, grant writing, or marketing, your expertise can further the cause just as much as a shovel. Reach out and let them know what skills you can bring to the table.
- Visibility: Even just putting a membership sticker on your car rack sends a positive message to the world around you.
- Advocacy: Use your platform, whatever it may be, to encourage others to get involved.
I owe so much of my life to mountain biking. When I was young, it gave me a sense of freedom; in college, it was the outlet I needed to handle the stresses of engineering school; as an adult, it has given me clarity and a community to belong to. None of that would be possible without everyday people showing up however they could.
If you are anything like me, I encourage you to help keep it going—so the next generation of riders can have it even better than we did.
