Bentonville, Arkansas promises and delivers an epic MTB experience. Words :: Colin Field.
From the high point of the Castle Hub, we drop into Uwabami, one of the newest trails in Bentonville, Arkansas. It’s smooth and flowing, with mellow lips and landings and wide berms, and it all trends in my favourite direction: downhill. It’s the kind of trail anybody could enjoy. We just met the trail builders up top, listening to Real Life’s “Send Me An Angel” on their DEWALT radio. They were locals. They grew up here and now had full-time, year-round jobs making mountain bike trails. I asked if they hated how much Bentonville has changed over the years.
“Nope,” they replied unanimously. “It’s busy, but we still love it. I mean look at this place.”
And it’s true. We were on a massive deck-like structure and, scanning the surroundings, we saw nothing but trails flowing downhill. These guys were just finishing Uwabami, and suggested we try it. It was designed for riders on three- or four-wheeled adaptive bikes and that’s the kind of place Bentonville is: There are trails here for everyone.
As I rolled down behind my son and wife, I marveled at the trail system. Surrounding Uwabami were other trails including Medieval and Dragon Scales that looked more like theme-park rides than mountain bike trails. Massive rolling bridges shot riders over huge jumps that seemed impossibly large, but local 12-year-olds sailed over them effortlessly. I envied how fast the locals progressed here. I watched my son flying over the smaller tabletops on Uwabami and heard my wife whooping with delight around the berms. It made me happy.
As a family that loves to ride bikes, we’re always looking for off-season adventures. And in the shoulder seasons, when Ontario is a bleak grey-brown, the not-too-hot, not-too-cold Bentonville is an almost perfect destination—almost perfect because the drive’s a big one: about 18 hours from Collingwood. Even longer in a 40-year-old Westfalia, but it’s worth every minute of driving.
By self-proclaiming itself “the mountain bike capital of the world,” Bentonville has manifested exactly that. Riders and towns will forever debate who gets the title (Moab and Whistler would put up a good fight), but while you’re here it’s hard to dispute: Bentonville is absolutely addicted to bikes.
By self-proclaiming itself “the mountain bike capital of the world,” Bentonville has manifested exactly that.
Prior to its foray into the cycling world, Bentonville was known as the home of Walmart. And that was about it. Sam Walton started the retail behemoth in 1962 in nearby Rogers, and the company went on to world domination. But their headquarters was always in Bentonville, and the company required all suppliers to have a brick-and-mortar operation in town, so the place flourished.
The history of how the town got into mountain biking varies depending on the teller, but every local has their version. Your bartender may tell you the town invested $10 million into trails. The waitress will say it’s all because of Sam Walton’s grandsons. Our version came from a retiree volunteering at the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art (a gallery funded by—you guessed it—the Waltons).
“Ten years ago there was a meeting and the two guys, I think they were the Walton grandsons, said, ‘We’re going to become the mountain biking capital of the world.’ And they did it within seven years.”
It’s true the Walmart grandsons were the impetus. Tom and Steuart Walton had become avid mountain bikers in college. When the Walton Family Foundation decided to invest in footpaths, the grandsons made sure a chunk of that money went to mountain bike trails.
They went from zero km of singletrack in 2006 to eight km in 2007, and from 2008-2018 the Walton foundation donated $74 million to trail building in the region. And at the end of 2023, the town boasted 110 km of trails running throughout the city, seamlessly connecting with more than 600 km of trail systems throughout northwest Arkansas.
As we got to know the town (by bicycle of course), we learned that riding around downtown Bentonville is incredibly safe, but strangely annoying: You constantly have the right of way. I’d pull into a four-way stop, staring at Google Maps on my phone like a kooky tourist, then decide to do a u-turn mid-intersection. Lines of cars waited patiently for me to decide what to do. They never honked.
And it’s rare to see a bike locked up in Bentonville. A $10,000 electric Santa Cruz outside a coffee shop? No lock. An $8,000 carbon Specialized right beside it? No lock.
From the downtown square we dropped directly into the All American trail. A ribbon of machine-made trail, complete with rollers, berms, skinnies and features, it leads down into the heart of the Slaughter Pen trail system. We immediately started lapping Moo Moo, Choo Choo (this trail glows in the dark!) and Boo Boo. While my son and wife loved Choo Choo, I loved Boo Boo; both were downhill, zig-zagging trails that any human being would enjoy. We’d split up at the top and reconnect at the bottom, our shouts of joy and laughter echoing through the surrounding forest.
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My son and I built up the courage to ride Berm Creek, a recreation of YouTube star Seth Alvo’s backyard trail. The roll-in was intimidating but tons of fun. Lapping this trail for about an hour, we hung out with some locals who were on an after-work 35 km ride. That’s just a Tuesday afternoon for locals.
Then we rode the Bone Yard just to see what the most extreme city-built trail could possibly look like and it is officially gnarly; we walked the majority of it. Massive jumps, huge cliff drops and scary bridges flowed down the hillside. How a city can build such dangerous trails in a country where you can sue a restaurant because their coffee is too hot is beyond me, but I digress. It’s rad as hell that these trails exist. Just be sure to heed the signage: pre-ride, re-ride, free ride. We spent all day in the Slaughter Pen area, clocking more than 20 km. While there was definitely stuff beyond our skill level, we all ended the day excited and thrilled with the riding.
Over seven days we rode everything we possibly could. The town funds an app called Flowfeed, which keeps an updated list of trails and what condition they’re in, so we knew where we could ride and which trails were too wet or closed for maintenance.
Bentonville is more than bikes, though. The previously mentioned Crystal Bridges Museum is fantastic and free. While we were there we saw an exhibit by photographer Annie Leibowitz and an incredible outdoor immersive light installation. Then there’s The Momentary, a live concert venue and another beneficiary of the Walton Family Foundation. This place is constantly bringing in world-class acts; we saw Wu-Tang Clan while we were there. And Wilco played the day after we left.
We stayed at the Bike Inn just outside downtown Bentonville. A former nondescript roadside motel, the property has been converted into a bike-friendly mecca with the motto “Bike. Sleep. Repeat.” Out back are four pull-in spots for campers. That’s where we stayed, and we loved it. It’s a hub for cyclists from all over the country, and a great place to warm up by the fire and meet other riders.
Bentonville is like Disneyland for cyclists. It’s exactly what you would draw as a kid if you were asked to draw the perfect town; there would be dirt jumps right past the coffee shop, berms in the sidewalks and your route to school would feature some super-fun downhill dirt jumps. It feels almost cult-like in its perfection. Everything is connected by trail. And if you show up at one of the many Airship Coffee shops on a bicycle, they’ll knock ten per cent off your bill.
On our final day in Bentonville we traveled to Rogers, home of the first Walmart and the Daisy Airgun Museum. It’s not far from Bentonville, and it’s like the difference between Etobicoke and Toronto; you wouldn’t even know you were in a different town. We rode The Railyard here, which is an absolute work of art.
Built by the master builders at Velosolutions, this is a downhill pump track-style asphalt course with jumps, berms and other incredible features. We soon befriended a local who showed us some transfer lines and assured us that yes, this place never gets old. He’d moved here from Dallas and was starting a bicycle-themed barbershop—get a haircut while your bike gets tuned. We spent six hours riding here and I watched as my son’s jumping skills improved and my wife’s cornering got better and better. We met hardcore riders and absolute newbies all sharing the trail and congratulating each other on their progression. It was a beautiful example of how pump tracks build community, and we were reluctant to leave.
Bentonville is an inspiring slice of Utopia I could visit yearly for the rest of my riding days. And according to the Center for Business and Economic Research at the Sam M. Walton College of Business, biking is doing more than engaging a few riders; trail systems in northwest Arkansas generated $159 million USD in economic impacts from cycling-related jobs, tourism revenue and taxes in 2022 alone. There is a method to the trail-investment madness.
Now if only some Ontario towns could see the light (I’m looking at you, Collingwood and the Town of the Blue Mountains).
The Gran Fondo Hincapie is heading to Bentonville, September 6-8.
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