Every guy who’s ever pointed a 4×4 down a muddy forest road knows the feeling: that moment when the pavement ends and the real world begins. For a lot of us, those trails are more than recreation; they’re where we clear our heads, teach our kids how to drive in the dirt, or just spend a weekend away from the noise. So when storms, fires, and years of neglect started closing those same trails for good, it hit hard.
That’s where the 2025 Toyota and onX Trail Revival Project came in. Starting back in May and running clear through October, this wasn’t some corporate photo-op. It was boots-on-the-ground work at thirteen hard-hit locations from the Pacific to the Appalachians, plus dozens more club-led events that Toyota and onX backed with cash, tools, and know-how.
Image credit: Toyota
The numbers tell part of the story: more than four hundred volunteers put in thousands of hours, reopened miles of trail, hauled out tons of trash, fixed drainage so the ruts don’t turn into canyons, and cleared everything from fire-scorched widow-makers in California to entire trees knocked flat by a brutal ice storm in Michigan.
Out in Mendocino National Forest, crews spent days cutting and dragging burned limbs off routes that hadn’t seen a tire since the wildfires. Up in Northern Michigan’s Black Mountain area, a 2024 ice storm dropped so many trees that nearly two hundred miles of trail were on the chopping block. Volunteers with chainsaws and Toyota trucks worked shoulder-to-shoulder until the paths were passable again. One local told reporters that without the revival day, the whole place probably would’ve stayed gated for years.
Then there was Old Fort, North Carolina. Hurricane Helene tore through the Blue Ridge foothills like a freight train. Trails that brought riders, campers, and dollars into that little mountain town were washed out or buried under landslides. Off-road clubs from three states showed up, loaded gear into the beds of Tacoma and 4Runner rigs, and got after it. By the end of the weekend the main access points were open again and the town had a fighting chance to get back on its feet.
Image credit: Toyota
Same story played out in places like Pennsylvania’s Famous Reading Outdoors, Montana’s high-country Tizer Basin, and the rocky White River National Forest in Colorado. Everywhere you looked, guys (and plenty of women and kids too) were swinging Pulaskis, running winches, and filling truck beds with storm trash. Toyota brought the trucks and the funding; onX handled the mapping and coordination with local clubs who know every inch of their home turf.
Mike Tripp, Toyota’s Group Vice President of Marketing, put it plain: “Whether you’re hiking, biking or overlanding, having access is essential. As a brand that’s closely connected with outdoor enthusiasts, we believe it’s our responsibility to help preserve the places that inspire adventure.”
Over a hundred and twenty-five off-road clubs threw their hats in the ring hoping to host their own work days. Toyota and onX couldn’t say yes to everyone for the big anchor events, but they still sent checks, tools, and guidance so those clubs could get it done on their own schedules. That’s how a thirteen-stop tour turned into a nationwide movement.
Image credit: Toyota
When the last event wrapped up in late October, the job wasn’t “finished” in the way a lot of projects claim to be. Trails don’t stay fixed forever; mudslides happen, trees fall, and erosion never sleeps. But something bigger got started. Guys who showed up just planning to put in a Saturday discovered they actually like taking care of the places they love. Clubs that used to only ride together started planning maintenance days. The idea that we’re just renters on these public lands started sinking in.
Look, nobody’s saying you have to chain yourself to a rake every weekend. But when a trail you’ve wheeled for twenty years gets red-tagged “closed” because nobody showed up to clear it, that stings. The Trail Revival Project proved that a couple hundred regular guys with chainsaws, a few tough trucks, and some corporate backing can keep huge chunks of America open.
Those trails out there—the ones that take you up above treeline or down to some forgotten creek full of smallmouth—are still there because a bunch of people decided they were worth saving. And as long as guys keep showing up, they’ll stay open for the next rig rolling off the showroom floor, the next father-son camping trip, the next time any of us needs to get lost for a while and find ourselves again.
The dirt’s still there. So are the trucks. All that’s missing is the excuse not to help keep it that way.
