For over 20 years, one man has been the steady force behind the Hatfield-McCoy off-road trails, turning a simple idea into a massive draw for riders across the country. Now, with his retirement on the horizon, the system that brings thousands of folks to southern West Virginia each year is about to shift gears. Jeffrey Lusk, the executive director who helped build this network from the ground up, is calling it quits after a long run that changed the game for off-road enthusiasts and the local economy.
It all started back in the 1990s when Lusk first got involved in the early planning stages of what would become the Hatfield-McCoy Regional Recreation Authority. By 2005, he stepped into the top spot as executive director, and that's when things really took off. At the beginning, the trails covered just a couple hundred miles, scattered around a handful of areas. Under his watch, though, the system ballooned to more than 1,000 miles of connected paths stretching across nine counties in southern West Virginia. That's a lot of ground to cover, from rocky hillsides to dense forests, all designed for ATVs, UTVs, dirt bikes, and anyone looking for a real adventure in the Appalachians.
What makes this growth even more impressive is how it pulled in riders from all over. Back in the early days, trail passes sold maybe a few thousand a year. Fast forward to now, and projections for 2025 put that number at around 95,000. Most of these visitors aren't locals—they're coming from out of state, loading up their trucks and trailers for a weekend or more in the mountains. It's turned quiet rural spots into buzzing hubs, where gas stations, diners, and motels see a steady stream of business from guys just like you, escaping the daily grind for some dirt-flinging fun.
Picture this: narrow paths twisting through the woods, barely wide enough for your machine, with rocks underfoot and trees closing in. That's the kind of riding the Hatfield-McCoy trails deliver, especially in the colder months when things get slick from rain or snow. One rider who got a firsthand look at it in February 2024 shared his experience testing out a new Kawasaki Ridge closed-cab UTV. The trails were wet and cold, making every turn a challenge, but that's what made it so rewarding. The small town nearby felt welcoming, with folks speaking in that thick southern drawl, making outsiders feel right at home. It's the sort of place where you can grab a bite after a long day on the trails, swap stories with other riders, and appreciate the simple life away from city noise.
Lusk's retirement marks the first big change in leadership since he took over in 2005. It's a bittersweet moment for everyone who knows the trails. On one hand, he's leaving behind a solid foundation that's drawn repeat visitors and spread the word far and wide. Riders come back year after year, bringing buddies along, because the experience sticks with you—the thrill of conquering those rugged paths, the fresh mountain air, and the sense of getting away from it all. But on the other hand, his departure opens up questions about what's next for this beloved spot.
Whoever steps in as the new director will have big boots to fill. They'll inherit a system that's still expanding, with more miles being added and interest from riders growing stronger. The job won't be easy, though. Keeping the trails in top shape means constant maintenance to handle wear and tear from all those passes sold. There's also the need to protect the land itself, making sure erosion doesn't ruin the natural beauty that draws people in the first place. And let's not forget the rural communities that host these trails—they've got to stay involved, benefiting from the tourism without losing what makes them special.
One key challenge will be spreading out the crowds. With so many riders hitting the popular loops, the new leader will need to find ways to highlight the lesser-known sections, maybe through better signage or promotions that encourage exploring off the beaten path. Strengthening ties with nearby towns is another must—think more trail-friendly spots for parking, repairs, or even just a cold drink after a dusty ride. Navigation tools could use an upgrade too, especially for first-timers who might get turned around in those winding hollows. Better maps, apps, or guides could make the whole experience smoother, helping guys plan their trips without hassle.
Beyond the practical stuff, there's something deeper at play here. The Hatfield-McCoy trails aren't just about kicking up dirt; they're tied to the heart of Appalachia. This is coal country, where folks have shown real grit through tough times, and that resilience shows in every ridge and valley. The small-town warmth, the rugged terrain that's tough but fair—it's all part of what sets this place apart from other off-road spots. The next director will have to balance growth with preserving that unique feel. Push too hard for expansion, and you risk diluting the charm that makes riders feel like they're stepping into a piece of living history.
Lusk proved that the old saying "build it and they will come" can work in real life. He didn't just build trails; he built a reputation that turned a struggling region into a go-to destination. Visitors showed up, stuck around, and spread the word, boosting local jobs and giving communities a shot in the arm. But the future calls for a smarter approach—expanding thoughtfully, maintaining with determination, and coming up with fresh ideas that honor both the environment and the people who call it home.
As the Hatfield-McCoy system heads into this new phase, there's plenty of reason to be optimistic. The momentum from recent years, with record pass sales and ongoing improvements, suggests even better times ahead. Lusk's groundwork has set the stage for something special, and with the right hands guiding it, the trails could reach new heights. For riders who've made memories there, and those yet to discover it, the adventure is far from over. It's just getting a fresh start.
