THE LATEST FROM THE OSI BLOG
Through KROC we are working with other non-profits, businesses, municipalities, and individuals, to bring trails, gear libraries, programs, and events to life. At the core of this is the shared belief that the outdoors can have a profound impact on youth wellbeing, and the future vitality of the region.
My whole life I have loved the outdoors but I have never appreciated my own backyard like this. There was one evening on the overnight paddling trip I went fishing with my coworker. As I sat in my boat in the middle of the river I could see my students on the shore. They were running around, their shadows dancing on the riverbank. Their laughter carried across the water to me and I realized these kids were forming memories and connections they will never lose. I felt grateful to have had similar outdoor opportunities which have turned into my passion for the outdoors.
The rise of gravel biking offers a promising alternative to many would-be cyclists that worry about sharing roads with distracted drivers or tackling overly technical trails. Gravel riding makes it easy to get off the pavement and into the big outdoors where you can ride two abreast and chat with a friend, smell the big pines, or stop to watch a turtle ease into a stream at the edge of the road. Bikers can scan the wetlands for moose, dunk their heads in a stream, and maybe ride just fast enough to outpace the deerflies and mosquitos-- all without the worry of regular traffic. Exploring rural areas becomes more comfortable and sociable than ever before. It turns out that gravel riding in Maine has grown in popularity for a few good reasons.
All of this is new to me: the Type V PFD, the throw rope, my companions. I have the acute sense that something is missing, and I pause briefly to determine what it is: I’m not feeling any anxiety. In a moment when I would expect to feel internal pressure to monitor every variable and execute a plan perfectly, the situation feels manageable even though I don’t yet have much confidence in my skills.
In my career developing trails as a professional across the country, it is common to be brought in when something goes wrong. The most common issues are negative resource impacts like eroding trails or social conflicts – such as unauthorized trails. Overwhelmingly, the trails in question have been developed by users without any formal planning, design, or construction process.
For years I believed that the communities we work in need more capacity to sustain outdoor sport. That’s not the mistake. It’s very true. The mistake was this; I used to think there would be some magical point at which community outdoor initiatives would reach “sustainability.” If we provided enough planning, guidance, training, and support, communities would have what they needed to succeed. Come to find out, I was wrong.
The other day, I went to the Katahdin Gear Library to help out with a youth trail work day. When I walked in, there were eight students socializing with one another, getting ready for the afternoon. I was surprised to see that I knew every student in attendance. This may seem like a small moment, knowing eight students' names, but the best part is that I met all of them through different work. I had a few in a Katahdin Learning Project program at a local school, and others on an overnight trip a few weeks prior. I was so excited after that program, because in just three short months, I have already been able to create relationships with students in the region. It was great to see my hopes of being a leader and role model in the community starting to come to life. Creating community takes work, and now, it is my work.
Growing up in Iowa, on the edge of the Midwest’s beautiful “Driftless Area,” there were plenty of places to get outside and explore. As a youngster, I joined Boy Scouts and found my desire to play outside. It didn’t take long to decide that I wanted a career in the outdoors. I began guiding a couple years after high school, leading youth trail building crews and backpacking treks in New Mexico, cold weather expeditions and dog sledding trips in northern Minnesota, and canoe expeditions in the summer.
My journey into trail development was unusual, not many people leave a blossoming engineering career to labor in the dirt. But only four years into my office-based engineering job, I knew I needed to do something else. Thankfully, Rich Edwards, a 20-year veteran of the International Mountain Bicycling Association’s (IMBA) Trail Solutions division, and a venerable godfather of modern trail building, saw my potential. Through his mentorship, I gained crucial knowledge about why people use trails, how trails impact the natural environment, and how to meld those two distinct ideas to create long-lasting, low-impact, and enjoyable trail experiences for everybody.
People often misunderstand our work at the Outdoor Sport Institute. It’s easy to assume growing more opportunities for outdoor sport in a community is measured in bikes and skis, or trails and program hours. The reality is we focus on building resilience. If a community has resilience, all these other opportunities will grow over time, but no amount of gear, trails, or program hours equal resilience. Quantity will look different in every community, but resilience looks the same.