I’ve come to see mountain biking as the bridge between urban and rural … city and wilderness. Due to sheer population density most mountain bikers live in a city whether large or small. What that then means is the continual travel from the city to the backside of nowhere to ride. We leave the comforts of city life … access to amenities, services, and the pulsating rhythms of constant activity … to replace with the quiet remoteness of a trail.

The first time I lived in a city was to venture off to the university. From a rural upbringing I was not prepared for the overstimulation of the city. From silence to chaos. From serene to frenetic. I hated the city. But then something changed. Like a salmon that transitions from a fresh water river to the open salt water ocean I changed … adapted … and grew to love and embrace life in the city. Now when I visit the backside of nowhere I have to almost retrain my brain to deal with the eery silence.

I’ve grown accustomed to the familiar noise of the light rail train a few blocks away, constant automobile traffic, conversations below our 4th story window, verbal altercations on the sidewalk, screeching tires, the white noise of sirens, and the occasional person tweaked out yelling and playing the air guitar at 2 AM in the middle of the street. This doesn’t bother me. Silence does. But that’s why we travel to the backside of nowhere. To reset.

As you can guess I’m not anti-city. Not even remotely close. Interestingly, for most of its history the environmental movement has largely been anti-urban. This past summer I read a couple of Edward Abbey’s books. I devoured them. Loved them. One of the themes in his writing is his utter disdain for city life and even technology. He’d rather live in the buff in the bowels of the Grand Canyon than step foot in the city. However, in light of such things as suburban sprawl what we’ve come to realize is that the best thing for humans who love the wilderness to do is … live in a city. Be pro-density. It keeps wild areas and agricultural land intact. The more we love our big grassy suburban homes and low-density sprawl it means the more we drive, the more we burn fossil fuels, the more wilderness and farm lands we gobble up, and you know the rest.

We need to keep wild areas wild. We need to keep the backside of nowhere intact. I did not start off intending to write a treatise on environmentalism and the need to live in cities. In my mind I simply started with the premise that we need places like the backside of nowhere. I began thinking then of my relationship with these kinds of places along with the reality that I live in a city and that I thoroughly love and enjoy city life. At times holding this tension can be maddening. It seems paradoxical, right? If I really loved the remote I should pack up and move to the backside of nowhere. Maybe find a rural community in economic decline, swoop in, and buy a home for pennies on the dollar.

But I live in the city. I’m sure most of you do as well. The only difference is some of you may live in large cities and others in smaller ones. As a result we live in two worlds at times. Parallel universes. Mountain biking necessitates dirt and open areas. Most often (not always) that means leapfrogging beyond the city limits to ride. I’ve finally grown to embrace the tension. It’s never neat nor tidy. In the classroom I teach about equity in transportation, access to affordable transportation, and the like so it’s always on my mind when I load up my bike to take a solo trip to the backside of nowhere. I suppose until all communities have access to trails without hopping in a car then it will continue to happen.

This is a good reminder to get involved (or continue to) with your local trail advocacy group. The point of these groups is to advocate for better access to trails and help maintain them. Not everyone has the same amount of free time. I go through periods, especially during the school year, where I have very little free time (plus leading Loam Coffee) so I do what I can when I can. At times all I can do is send coffee for a trail building day or serve coffee. Going into this new year how can we help keep the backside of nowhere intact? What is one baby step that you can take? I’m asking myself the same. We can do more together.

Words and Photo by Sean Benesh

Founder of Loam Coffee