It’s easy to think trail work is all about dirt, tools, and sweat equity. But here’s the truth: your next trail project may hinge less on how many volunteers show up and more on how strong your relationships are with local, state/provincial, or federal land managers.

Whether you’re trying to legalize an existing network or propose a brand-new system, trust is the currency that opens doors. And in an era of limited staff and increasing scrutiny, agencies need partners they can count on. Not just once, but again and again.

So how do you build that kind of relationship?

Let’s dig in.

It’s 8:42 a.m. and a dozen volunteers are gathered around a pile of tools, half-listening to the safety talk, half-sipping coffee from a local sponsor. It’s a familiar scene for grassroots trail organizations. Small but mighty groups fueled not by big budgets, but by willing hands and repeat enthusiasm.

But here’s the reality: without consistent volunteer support, even the most passionate trail orgs will struggle to maintain momentum. Recruiting volunteers is hard. Retaining them is harder. And when that one ultra-reliable digger stops showing up, it can feel like starting over.

So, how do you build something sustainable? How do you grow your crew list, avoid burnout, and keep volunteers coming back, season after season?

Let’s dig in.

In Pioche, Nevada, a new trail system is transforming more than just the landscape—it’s helping reshape the town’s identity. And they didn’t do it with big sponsors or flashy marketing. They told their story.

In our latest article, we explore how small and underfunded trail nonprofits, for-profit builders, and rural communities can use social media to build momentum, invite others in, and grow support—without needing a big budget.

Mountain biking celebrates the elite. Trail building celebrates everyone else. You show up early. Haul tools. Shape berms. Drain puddles. And most days, nobody notices. I started Trail Builder Magazine because I wanted to change that.

In a forested region in East Africa, a small group of mountain bikers is quietly building trails. There are no press releases, no grants, no signage. Just machetes, shovels, and a deep respect for the land and the communities who live alongside it. In this installment of our Unsanctioned series, we spoke with one of the builders behind these efforts. What follows is a rare window into what it means to build trails when the rules are unclear, the forest is contested, and success isn’t measured in Strava segments but in schoolchildren crossing muddy paths and reforestation crews finding safe passage.

In “Price & Purpose,” trail builder Dillon Osleger calls for a shift in mountain biking culture—away from commodified, copy-paste flow trails and toward restoration, local engagement, and ecological stewardship. He critiques the industry’s fixation on new trails as economic drivers and urges a deeper reckoning with the environmental and cultural impacts of trail development. Trails shouldn’t just be sold—they should serve people and place.

As fall starts rolling in the South Central Mexican Mountains, the soil gets moist, mornings get colder and the forests get ready for a yearly celebration of life on two wheels. If you roam about in Oaxaca City around these times, you will find the scent of orange and purple flowers, skulls made out of sugar, and “papel picado,” a colorful paper decoration. This is when riders from all over the world travel, to subliminally celebrate life on two wheels, slicing through soft, deep, organic, high-altitude Oaxacan soil. But how did this riding area get so popular?

In this interview, trailbuilder Willard Bruce reflects on his journey from BMX roots in the U.S. to shaping trails across Europe. Now based in Barcelona, he shares insights on Spain’s growing MTB scene, the challenges it faces, and why more local trailbuilders are urgently needed.

Trail builders need gloves that can handle real work. We tested Trail Manos’ leather work gloves while scouting trail damage and fixing drainage, and they delivered. No break-in needed, solid grip, and all-day comfort. Whether you’re a pro or a volunteer, these gloves are worth the upgrade.

Rogue trails are everywhere: hidden behind neighborhoods, winding through forest hillsides, and quietly passed from rider to rider. But what’s the cost? This article explores the world of unsanctioned trail building—why they exist, who builds them, the risks to access and ecosystems, and how we might bridge the gap between rebellion and responsibility.