Juan Alberto Delaroca

It's hard to imagine a better region than Colorado's Front Range for any cyclist to cut his or her teeth. The cycling communities there are deeper than anywhere in the country, maybe the world. So after 11 years in Denver and 8 years in Boulder, cyclist/entrepreneur Juan Alberto DelaRoca had a good idea bout what he wanted in a place to live, "All those years taught me that I would have to be somewhere pretty cyclist-friendly, just as a lifestyle requirement for myself."

DelRoca's parents moved from Guatemala to the States in the '60s, and he grew up outside of Washington, D.C., before moving west. In the time since, he's witnessed the evolution of cycling, mountain biking in particular, and how it can transform a community.

DelRoca's parents moved from Guatemala to the States in the '60s, and he grew up outside of Washington, D.C., before moving west. In the time since, he's witnessed the evolution of cycling, mountain biking in particular, and how it can transform a community.

"In the early 2000s, skateboarding was the real DIY scene. Skaters pushed the limits with what they had, like at Burnside Skatepark in Portland, Oregon. That's a bit of what it feels like right now in mountain biking, People are realizing they have the chance to shape their own place. " He cites a list of towns-Traverse City, Michigan; Cable City; Wisconsin; Red Cloud, Minnesota; Black Hills, South Dakota- that are recreating themselves, often in the economic wake of their industrial histories. "The trail networks we see in these places now grew out of the fact that people just went and figured out how to do it.

Undeniably beautiful, Trinidad, Colorado, was founded in 1862 on the Purgatoire River at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, 13 miles from the border of New Mexico. it served as a camp for traders, along the Santa Fe Trail that connected Missouri and Santa Fe. The arrival of railways then helped spur Trinidad's development as a coal center until 1900, but then the mines closed, and people drained steadily out of the town. There were brief periods of fame in the 1960s as Sex Change Capital of the World and as home to Drop City, America's first recognized hippy commune, but the town of Trinidad was in serious decline.

Then came Colorado's legalization of cannabis in 2014, and tax revenues created a windfall for Trinidad, which had been struggling to address basic infrastructure problems. Pulled back from the brink, the town today is changing. Things are happening (slowly) and entrepreneurial spirits like DelaRoca are helping seed the idea that investment in other economic opportunities, like outdoor recreation, is an essential move.

"When I first considered coming to Trinidad, I thought, well, it's not exactly known for its singletrack," he laughs, "But I did some research and I knew the state government was interested in restoring the health of some of the founding towns of Colorado.” He read in the town paper that a local trail group had secured 140 acres on the north side of town for multiuse trails for hiking, biking and running—and he knew he’d found a kernel to work with.

“Mountain biking is something this place can offer, not only to locals but to people who are coming through. I can totally see it, I can totally see a network of trails all around town. It’ll be a lot of work, but this place has got all the attributes to do it.”

DelaRoca worked with the city to figure out how a trail system might come together. He spent a year talking to private land owners, learning what the city had in terms of property and how that land might all be tied together. DelaRoca then applied, on behalf of the city of Trinidad, for a grant called the Colorado Blueprint 2.0 initiative (for developing outdoor recreation in rural communities) and got it.

DelaRoca is warm, enthusiastic and quick to laugh. He splits his time between Trinidad and Antigua, Guatemala, where he also runs a mountain bike tour operation called Backshop Bikes. He describes it as a mash-up of cycling club and adventure travel agency—a cultural hub of Central American riding. (“Guatemala is going to be to mountain biking what Costa Rica is to surfing.”) His resume is literally all over the map: He worked for years at Boulder’s University Bicycles, earned a master’s degree in sports administration, started a marketing firm focused on reaching Latino athletes, became the manager of the Mexican Olympic Snowboard Team, and traveled 1,678 miles down the Indian subcontinent in a tuk-tuk to raise $20,000 for cancer research. (“Easily the dumbest and coolest thing I’ve done in my life.”)

DelaRoca’s years in Boulder gave him a unique perspective on how a town learns to truly incorporate bicycles into people’s

lives, and he thinks Trinidad and Antigua are places that can do this, too.

“In the current political landscape, we now know there’s this huge rural-urban divide in America,” DelaRoca says. “Outdoor recreation has the ability to help bridge that gap. People want to figure out how to live in rural places where they can hike or ski or ride. So now you’ve got different types of people connected by different things to the same lands. Figuring out how to share it will only improve the quality of a community. Maybe shared trails are the little wins,” he admits, then adds, “and little wins have the biggest impact on the overall trajectory of where we find ourselves going as a society.”

Let’s be honest: If you journey to Trinidad this weekend expecting a day of epic riding, you’ll be tempted to keep driving and head for more established riding towns like Salida or Durango. But if you’re excited for the potential you see in Trinidad, look up DelaRoca. Bring your shovel.

“I can totally see it, I can totally see a network of trails all around town.”

BY DIANE FRENCH