We’ve Always Been Here
Black Americans Have a Storied History and Vibrant Present in the Outdoors
America is in a long-overdue reassessment of the state of social justice and equity in the country. As part of that process, thoughtful people in the outdoor recreation community ask challenging questions to pursue a more accessible, safe and respectful outside experience for all people, including Black Americans.
One obstacle to that vision is the too-common assumption that Black Americans somehow aren’t part of the outdoor recreation culture in this country. That faulty perception has helped fuel such exclusionary outcomes as making Black outdoors people feel uncomfortable amongst their fellow adventurers and an absence of the Black presence and experience in the stories we tell about our most beautiful places.
In fact, Black Americans are, and always have been, an important part of the tapestry of outdoor adventure.
Those who love the breathtaking ancient forests of Sequoia National Park owe a debt to Charles Young, one of the first Black graduates of West Point and the first Black man to serve as superintendent of a National Park. During the first years of the 20th century, Young and his company of Black soldiers protected Sequoia from poachers and timber thieves while overseeing construction of the park’s first roads.
Few of today’s cycling enthusiasts will ever match the adventures of the 25th Infantry Bicycle Corps, a Black unit that helped the U.S. Army evaluate the use of bikes in the late 1890s. The unit once rode 500 miles in 10 days from its base at Fort Missoula, MT to Yellowstone National Park. After a few days of site-seeing, the men turned around and biked home over the often-steep terrain.
And that was just a warm-up. The 25th later biked 1600 miles from Fort Missoula to St. Louis. Their bikes weighed 59 lbs, and each man carried a ten lb. rifle along with both personal and unit gear. The group overcame temperature extremes, severe weather, and rugged terrain to make the journey in about 40 days.
Today, Black Americans are highly active in every facet of the outdoor recreation community, as both participants and purveyors.
Skiers, for example, have fellow downhiller Mike Carey to thank for the invaluable Cat Track, which protects their ski boots as they walk across the resort parking lot. Carey’s Seirus Innovations, one of several Black-owned outdoor gear makers, is a recognized leader in ski equipment advancement.
Outdoor adventures exploring North Texas should check out Slim Pickins Outfitters in Stephenville. America’s first Black-owned gear shop in the country. Owners Jahmicah and Heather Dawes survived early hostility and the COVID pandemic on their way to building something more than a business. “We are building a community,” they say.
No matter the outdoor playground — mountain, beach or forest — Black Americans are there, enjoying and excelling.
Later this year, eight experienced Black mountain climbers will attempt to become the first all-Black climbing party to summit Mt. Everest. While reaching that peak will be exhilarating, Full Circle Everest’s real goal is to “highlight the barriers that continue to exist for Black communities in accessing the outdoors and inspire the next generation of outdoor enthusiasts, educators, leaders, and mountaineers of color to continue chasing their personal summits.”
And the number of Black Americans discovering the joys of outdoor adventure continues to grow, thanks, in part, to the numerous non-profit groups dedicated to getting young people of color outside. HBCUs Outside works to introduce students and alumni of Historically Black Colleges and Universities to outdoor recreation. Black Girls Surf is remaking the complexion of surfing here and worldwide by teaching young women of color how to ride the waves.
And in Birmingham, AL, Ruffner TreeHouse Village founder Randi Pink has created a special place of soothing, healing and learning in the Ruffner Mountain Preserve.
These are just some of the threads that Black Americans contribute to the neverending tapestry of our collective outdoor experience. Step back and look. The picture would be much less vibrant without them.
