Off-Road Cycling Master Plan: A decade later, what has changed?

This guest article comes from Joshua Rebennack, a trail builder and advocate for urban mountain biking who lives in Central Minnesota. He’s presented to local trail groups and has previously shared two guest articles.

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A titch over ten years ago, Portland launched the Off-Road Cycling Master Plan (ORCMP). As BikePortland noted at the time, “If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.” After years of false starts, bans by fiat, and protest rides, advocates hoped it would finally deliver real urban mountain biking.

Did it? A decade later, where does Portland stand? On its own and in comparison to peer cities nationwide?

How This Started

This all starts with the River View Natural Area master planning process. After the City bought the property, mountain biking was allowed on existing trails, and the Northwest Trail Alliance (NWTA) even began maintenance with the City’s blessing. But during that master planning process, the shenanigans started.

The City imposed an unnecessary “interior space” rule on the 146-acre site (unnecessary since wildlife impact zones actually exceed the park’s physical dimensions) and designed unsafe, amateurish loops. When this didn’t deter mountain bikers, Commissioners Amanda Fritz and the late Nick Fish banned biking entirely, ensuring the final plan excluded it.

The protest rides and media campaign that followed were surprisingly well coordinated. Mainstream outlets highlighted Portland’s undemocratic meddling and its pattern of blocking mountain bike access. As the brouhaha persisted, Mayor Charlie Hales authorized $350,000 for a citywide master plan, the ORCMP, to be overseen by the Bureau of Environmental Services, given Parks’ long history of anti–mountain bike bias.

Things Do Not Go as Planned

Almost immediately warning signs appeared. The city selected Toole Design Group and Hilride (now defunct) as consultants, neither experienced in citywide urban mountain biking, shared-use singletrack, or the management methods used by the cities that had created trails systems in the decade prior.

The problem deepened when the City failed to vet Project Advisory Committee applicants, allowing anti-mountain bikers to be included. One member, married to a vocal opponent, reportedly shared non-public committee communications with anti–mountain biking groups.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the ORCMP meetings bordered on farce at times. Time was wasted discussing cartoon graphics and abstract equity debates while core issues – shared-trail safety, environmental impacts, and lessons from cities that had already addressed these challenges – were routinely sidelined.

The final blow came with last-minute additions of go/no-go trail areas, specific layouts, and the removal of potential sites. As a trail designer, I can say plainly: none of this belongs in a citywide plan. Such plans should rank and prioritize locations, not dictate designs.

Audio from the meeting where these changes were introduced, and when committee member Kelsey Cardwell questioned them, is difficult to hear. Consultants and staff responded with opaque explanations that amounted to: “We’ve decided. Accept it.”

Even with these negatives, the ORCMP could have been amended or succeeded to reflect nationwide best practices. Sadly, we do not live in that timeline.

The unamended ORCMP languished for seven years before its adoption in March 2023.

NWTA executive director Lisa Olivares said at the time that they “look[ed] forward to continuing our work to support growth in off-road cycling opportunities as presented in the plan.” It’s hard not to be cynical about this statement. While it may be an attempt to find a silver lining, it feels more like a capitulation.

Regardless, one fact remains: a decade after the ORCMP began (and eleven years after the River View Natural Area debacle) Portland’s mountain biking access remains essentially unchanged. While the NWTA often points to Gateway Green as a recent success, that example predates the ORCMP, having been planned in 2015.

What Everyone Else Has Been Doing

Cities other than Portland have not been sitting on their hindquarters during the last ten years. Just a few examples:

• Seattle, WA faced many of the same challenges as Portland – vocal opposition, skeptical officials, and past missteps – yet a small group spent the past decade building political capital to create the Cheasty Greenspace demonstration trail system. Though the demonstration runs through 2027, it has already undercut anti–mountain biking claims and positioned advocates to advance additional projects citywide.
• Des Moines, IA, hardly known for mountain biking, saw a local group raise funds, win over land managers, defeat well-funded neighborhood opposition, and build a widely praised trail system.
• In St. Louis, MO, after years of city resistance, a single advocate partnered with a small Friends group and a local alderperson to secure approval for a one-mile shared-use demonstration trail. Though modest, it became the city’s first, quickly shifting the conversation and prompting discussions of expansion.

There are many other examples, including cities where creating urban trails is easier. The above cases were selected because they required sustained effort, defeating organized opposition, and a willingness to challenge the city directly. Each involved small groups focused on urban singletrack. And every one of them accomplished what Portland has not in the past decade: expanding mountain bike access.

Why Is Portland So Far Behind?

The question is how Portland, already a decade (or more) behind in 2016, could fall another decade behind by 2026. There are three main reasons:

1. The ORCMP was a trap. Despite the fanfare, the ORCMP has functioned more as a procedural façade than a true plan. It allows the City to claim progress without meaningfully expanding access. That is not just my viewpoint. In a November 22, 2017 guest article, NWTA warned the plan “falls far below” peer cities, excludes most parks while claiming to be comprehensive, and is “absurd.” They called for revisions and partial rewrites. None occurred.
2. NWTA legitimized a broken process. Given its own criticisms, NWTA’s later endorsement of the same plan is puzzling. Doing so granted unwarranted legitimacy and locked future designs into a framework it found inadequate. The result of the NWTA doing their best Pétain impression is that they are now defenders of a policy that actively disenfranchises their own members.
3. The Portland Bubble blocks learning. Many lament Portland’s lack of urban mountain biking while ignoring lessons from other cities. Whether from hubris or ignorance, both City staff and local advocates have resisted proven solutions, ultimately strengthening the arguments against urban mountain biking. For instance, during the ORCMP process opponents were somewhat successful in framing urban mountain biking as overly impactful and dangerous. In reality, cities have integrated mountain biking into parks, including natural areas and urban wildernesses, for decades. All while ensuring safe sharing. If you’re unwilling to learn how other cities do that, how can you respond to the false claims made by opponents?

How to Change the Status Quo

If Portland wants real urban mountain biking access, here are three steps to achieve that goal:

1. Force a reckoning with the ORCMP… or the NWTA. The NWTA should condition its continued support for the ORCMP on meaningful amendments and a credible implementation plan. If those cannot be secured within a reasonable timeframe, it should publicly withdraw its support and begin organized advocacy and protests. If the current board is unwilling to do so, new leadership may be necessary. Either way, accountability must be non-negotiable.
2. Start small, win early, then scale. Forest Park is the obvious focal point for mountain biking access. But without proven shared-use and conservation practices, expanding access there would be a difficult uphill battle. That is why most cities begin with demonstration trails: small networks that refine management, build trust, and prove outcomes before expanding. Seattle and St. Louis followed this model; Portland should do the same. It’s tempting to chase the biggest prize first. But demonstration trails would make larger projects much easier by proving Portland’s anti-mountain-bikers to be the grifters and charlatans they are.
3. Break the bubble. If Sioux Falls outperforms Portland in urban singletrack, it is time to acknowledge something has gone horribly wrong. Admitting that truth is the first step toward learning. With outside knowledge, Portland can leverage its unique advantages to build some of the best trails in the nation. But that can’t happen until the bubble is broken.

Some might suggest that any criticism of NWTA is unfair, regardless of how gentle it may be, pointing to successes like Stub Stewart or Rocky Point. But those are beside the point. The real issue is urban access, where little has changed since 2015. Unfortunately, through their accepting the strictures the ORCMP imposed, the NWTA shares responsibility for its failures, and it’s fair to discuss that fact.

Some argue that comparisons to other communities are invalid because Portland is unique. However, others see differences as opportunities to adapt, not excuses to dismiss proven ideas. Advocates in Ridgeland, MS, for example, did not have a one-to-one comparable location. But they built a great trail system because they focused on the “how” and didn’t waste time comparing others to themselves. 

An Extended Helping Hand

Ten years ago, I gave Portland’s first Knobbies in the Neighborhood presentation.

It addresses the key public concerns head-on:

1. Designing shared-use trails that are safe, enjoyable, and serene for hikers and mountain bikers.
2. Understanding environmental impacts and management practices that minimize or eliminate them.
3. Implementing club- and land manager-led models that reduce municipal costs, lower administrative burdens, and support park restoration.

If it is so valuable, why didn’t it have more impact ten years ago? Two reasons seem likely:

First, the ORCMP was about to begin. At the time, it seemed like the long-awaited cure for Portland’s anti-mountain bike bias. Few imagined it would instead become another opportunity for the City to pull the football away. Or that another decade would pass without a single iota of progress.

Second, the broader urban trail landscape looked very different. Expansive citywide trail systems in places like Knoxville, Bentonville, and Duluth were still under development, and most cities were only beginning to build their first networks. In that environment, it was easy to dismiss ideas from “outsiders.”

But times have changed. The decade hence has shown the ORCMP to be a failure. Meanwhile, a third wave of urban trail building is underway, with many cities now deep into developing expansive, high-quality systems.

Although the NWTA seeks true urban singletrack, that is arguably less possible than in 2015 because the ORCMP conflicts with national standards and best practices while limiting locations. But just reforming (or even abandoning) the ORCMP will not be enough. Portland must start building what other communities already have: mountain-biker-built singletrack designed for shared use.

This is a proven model. For instance, Duluth’s 103-mile urban network, built by mountain bikers for mountain bikers, is embraced by all. Greater Minnesota Regional Parks and Trails found the system has a roughly 60/40 male-female split, with 25% of users under 18 and 43% hiking rather than cycling – usage demographics Portland Parks would envy. 

The problem is that proposals (before and after the ORCMP) and local trail construction have consistently overlooked the safety measures, environmental mitigations, management strategies, and best practices required for shared-use singletrack. That suggests Portland-area advocates still lack a clear understanding of what’s required.

Therefore, it seems obvious that what is needed is a discussion of the exact points covered in Knobbies in the Neighborhood. And this time, maybe there will be a more accepting attitude.

The next step is easy: host another Knobbies in the Neighborhood presentation in Portland. It would take only an invitation, a venue, with city officials, staff, advocates, and the public in the room. Ideally, NWTA would host it, but any Portland based group serious about urban singletrack could.

In Conclusion

The reality is straightforward: the ORCMP could have sparked real momentum for urban singletrack in Portland. Instead, consultant influence, citizen advisory decisions, and last-minute cloistering transformed it into a framework for segregation.

Yet the ORCMP did contain some foundational elements. Had its constraints been replaced with proven best practices, it might have advanced singletrack access in Portland. Instead, it limits meaningful access while omitting the management, safety, and conservation practices that have become standard across the country.

A decade later, the results are clear. Time has been lost, opportunities have passed, and Portland has fallen further behind.

For Portland-area mountain bikers tired of watching other communities build the trails they wish they had at home, there is a path forward. But it does not run through the ORCMP.