Rocky Mountain (Bike) High

Pedaling Passion And Community On The Wasatch Back

I am standing in a parking lot at the base of Dutch Hollow in Midway, listening to the excited chatter of the three women I’m about to follow up my first-ever mountain bike trail. The gloves I’m wearing disguise my sweaty palms as I grip the handlebars of a borrowed bike, staring up a dusty trail I can’t see the end of. I have no idea what awaits me, but I know I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

I’d been invited to go riding within ten minutes of sitting down to chat with Megan Grohovena and Kristin Pitts, both of whom have daughters on local mountain bike teams. Their warm, immediate invitation echoed a word I’d heard repeatedly when people described the local mountain biking scene: inclusive. Parents, coaches, adult riders, student athletes—all used the term. And from my first interaction, it seemed true.

People of all ages are picking up mountain biking in record numbers, and it’s now one of the fastest growing sports in Utah, especially among middle- and high school-aged youth. Utah has, by far, the largest league in the country. The Utah High School Cycling League (UHSCL) had over 7,600 student riders in 2024, up from just 320 in 2012.

Local teams like Wasatch, South Summit, and Park City High have felt that surge. Melanie Lake, Director of the Wasatch Mountain Bike Team, told me that this year their registration portal closed after just 45 minutes. That’s a major change from her early days as a volunteer “Team Mom,” helping organize the then-small group of 40 kids. Today, the Wasatch program has a 91-rider middle school development team and a 124-rider high school team.

Yet growth presents challenges. “There are more kids who want to participate,” Lake said, “but unlike other sports, we need two certified adult ride leaders for every eight kids.” That’s because mountain biking doesn’t happen on a controlled field. Trails are remote, dynamic, and potentially dangerous. “You can’t see all the kids at once like you can on a soccer field,” Lake explained. Ride leaders need to know First Aid, CPR, and have trail skills themselves.

These adult ride leaders, along with the race-day support staff, are all volunteers, committing hours weekly from June through October. “When you add it up… it’s massive,” Lake says.

And yet, riders return season after season, despite extreme conditions—snow, mud, or 100-degree days. Why? Dave Scott, Head Coach of South Summit’s team, says it’s the community. “It’s a bike team family. I’ve seen it time and time again—kids move to the valley and just need something. And the bike team—no matter who it is—they wrap their arms around them. Biking becomes their identity.”

Loralie Pearce, whose son Landon was on South Summit’s team from age 13 through high school, agrees. Landon was homeschooled and sometimes felt isolated. “With mountain biking,” Pearce said, “he found his people.” Landon has low eyesight, a fact Pearce mentions only in passing, because it never held him back. “The coaches never put a limitation on him—they just adjusted as needed.” I can’t think of another sport with this kind of flexibility built into its core.

That inclusion is no accident. Under the National Interscholastic Cycling Association (NICA), which governs youth leagues nationwide, several initiatives foster accessibility, including Elevate (for adaptive riders), Student Leadership Summits, and GRiT (Girls Riding Together). Teams across Utah accommodate students with visual or hearing impairments, autism, Down syndrome, missing limbs, or physical limitations. As multiple coaches told me, “In mountain biking, no one sits on the bench.”

When you look at the scale of it, you know something special is here.

Brooke Howard, Race Coordinator for Region 5 (which includes Wasatch and Summit counties), helps ensure race days run smoothly for every rider. She coordinates with coaches in advance and works with her 140-person event crew to prepare courses for all ability levels. What keeps her coming back? “The smiles on kids’ faces after a race,” she says. “Whether they finish fifth or fiftieth, they’re proud of themselves.”

That pride extends to their community impact. One of UHSCL’s five core values—alongside Fun, Inclusivity, Equity, and Respect—is Community. Each student must complete at least three hours of trail work annually. Dave Scott described South Summit’s close partnership with the local trail foundation. “They rely on us to help. We want to respect the trails and the people who’ve used them longer than we have. If we help maintain them, others see that we care.”

This focus on personal growth and community service aligns with the goals of the Student Leadership Summits, which aim to build leadership skills that last a lifetime. “They learn they can do harder things than they think,” says Lake. “Sure, we want to teach them to ride, but more importantly, we want them to know who they are. That carries into everything else in life.”

That mission is especially apparent in the GRiT program, launched in 2018 to address the gender gap in the sport. Female athletes leave sports at twice the rate of their male peers by age 14, due to factors ranging from body image and injury to pressure from social media. GRiT creates a supportive space for girls to build confidence, form friendships, and feel seen. It works. “The number of girls increases every year,” says Lake.

Each team decides on its GRiT activities—past events have included girl-only rides, yoga, spa nights, and motivational speakers. Megan Grohovena credits GRiT with helping her daughter stay engaged. “Last year she kinda hated practice—too repetitive. But now, with GRiT, she loves it. They have fun rides, spa nights. It’s so fun.”

As a rider herself, Grohovena says part of what keeps her going is setting an example. “It feels good to get out there. Even though they joke that every time I’m upside down in a bush, they still see me doing something hard. That matters. When your girls see you doing something that’s not traditionally female—it’s empowering.”

Kristin Pitts, a mother of five, has been mountain biking since high school. Most of her kids found other interests, so now she rides solo or with other women. “I like the trails,” she says simply. “You just see more when you ride.” When I ask if mountain bikers have secret favorite trails like anglers have secret fishing holes, she laughs. “Everyone knows. They’re all on apps now. And honestly, a good mountain bike trail is one that’s been ridden a lot.” Then she and Megan invite me to come along—and that’s how I ended up sweating nervously at Dutch Hollow, helmet on and ready to go.

When I first started researching this article, I expected mountain biking to be an intimidating sport to break into. It’s not. I already had a helmet, and after our first bike had a broken spoke, Megan easily found another loaner. There’s a refreshing absence of gatekeeping in this community. If cost is a barrier—for you or your child—ask. UHSCL and NICA offer scholarships, gear loan programs, and payment plans. As both Pearce and Scott emphasized, it’s not about who has the newest bike; it’s about being part of something bigger.

And yet, despite all the benefits—mental resilience, physical health, leadership development, and a deeply rooted sense of belonging—mountain biking remains largely invisible at the college level. Most riders stop racing after high school. Why?

With so many athletes, there should be a future for them.

For starters, mountain biking isn’t a school-sanctioned sport. Brooke Howard says that’s intentional. “It allows more flexibility for weekend races and travel.” But the downside is a lack of college infrastructure to support the sport. “We’re missing out,” says Scott. “With so many athletes, there should be a future for them. If you’re top of the heap in Utah, there should be opportunities.”

One person working to change that is Nic Sims, Head Coach for Westminster University’s Women’s Mountain Bike Team. Sims joined Westminster to build a new Mountain Sports Program—including climbing, skiing, snowboarding, and mountain biking—as part of the university’s broader post-pandemic enrollment strategy. He thought students would flock to the program. “Man, was I wrong,” he laughs.

The challenge? Mountain biking isn’t a high school-sanctioned sport, so he can’t recruit through traditional channels. Sims has gotten creative—contacting NICA directors nationwide, emailing coaches, even setting up a tent at the Sea Otter Classic in California, one of the largest bike festivals in the world.

Though Westminster is a private university, Sims emphasizes the affordability. “With scholarships and financial aid, families are often shocked by how affordable it is. I’ve met students who paid less for Westminster than they would at an in-state university.”

He also highlights a key distinction: Westminster is a varsity team. “The school funds the program. That means race entries, gear, travel—it’s all covered. With club teams, students pay all that themselves.”

Sims wants more than just a winning team. He wants to spark a movement. “We’re here in Utah with some of the world’s best riding, and we’re not even on the radar. That has to change.” He’s already reached out to other universities in Utah, including BYU, UVU, and the University of Utah, hoping to build momentum and legitimize the sport statewide.

Mountain biking is a sport of grit, inclusion, and growth—for students, families, and communities. Whether you’re 13 or 43, it’s never too late to get out there, pedal up the trail, and see what’s waiting around the bend.

More Information:

utahmtb.org/grit
wasatchmtb.org
ssmbt.org
bikeutah.org/midweek

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