If you work in rural tourism, you’ve probably asked it (or at least felt it), "How do we compete with places like Sedona, Moab, or Bend?" Their Instagram feeds are full of sweeping drone shots, pro athletes, polished campaigns, and sponsored ads. Their budgets stretch farther. Their names are already on the map.

And yet, here you are. A small town with one part-time staffer, a tight marketing budget, and a whole lot of untapped beauty.

So what can you do?

You’ve defined your audience. You know you don’t need to speak to everyone, just the right people.

Now comes the next big question: What should we actually post?

For small-town tourism, there’s a common trap: trying to appeal to everyone.

You end up with vague messaging, generic photos, and a website that says everything … and nothing at the same time.

And I get it. When you’re tasked with promoting your whole town, every event, every season, every “hidden gem,” you want to cast a wide net. Maybe … just maybe, someone out there will bite. At least nibble?

But here’s the hard truth I even have to remind myself for the work I do: when you try to speak to everyone, you end up connecting with no one.

For a lot of small towns and rural communities, social media feels like a chore. Something you’re “supposed” to be doing. So you post the event flyer on Facebook. You share the fall colors on Instagram. Maybe you snap a photo of a historic building or two. Then … nothing. No engagement. No growth. Just crickets.

So you wonder ... what’s the point?

But here’s the thing: your problem isn’t the social media platforms themselves. It’s your lack of strategy. Or more specifically, the lack of a strategy that’s actually aligned with your tourism goals.

Ok, let’s get something out of the way.

If you’re organizing a gravel, MTB, or road race, growing your Instagram, Facebook, or TikTok followers just for the sake of numbers is a distraction. You’re not an influencer chasing vanity metrics. You’re a race director trying to build momentum and get riders to your start line.

So why do follower counts still matter?

When I sit down with race organizers to talk about social media, one of the first questions I ask is, “Who’s your audience?”

That’s usually when the eyes go up and to the left. You know the look, somewhere between trying to remember a password and wondering if they left the stove on. And I get it.

When you’re planning a race, managing volunteers, answering emails, and fighting off last-minute chaos, “audience strategy” feels like a luxury. But the truth is, your success on social media and ultimately the success of your event hinges on how clearly you can answer that one question.

I follow enough race organizers and events to know that social media often ends up last on the to-do list. And I get it. Permits, insurance, aid stations, course scouting … it’s a full-time job just to pull off race day. But if you’re pouring all your energy into the logistics and barely showing up online, you’re missing the easiest (and most cost-effective) way to grow.

Let me say it clearly: a good race is not enough anymore.

Building a brand is a long game. It’s less about viral hits and more about consistent presence, a clear identity, and showing up with something that actually connects. I’ve seen it firsthand in the adventure of building Trail Builder Magazine from the ground up.

I vividly remember talking with a gravel race director in a small town last year who said, “We post on social media when we can, but it’s hard to keep up.” I get it. Most of these races are volunteer-run, and tourism boards in rural areas are often underfunded and juggling multiple roles. But what I’ve seen again and again, through my work with Trail Builder Magazine and now with BorderLands Gravel, is that your online presence is your brand. If your social media looks like an afterthought, people assume your event or destination is too.

It’s not that these brands are ignoring social media. It’s that they’re not doing it well. And in today’s landscape, that’s just as costly.

Over the past few months, I’ve been reflecting a lot, not just on Trail Builder Magazine, but on the broader journey of building brands, launching projects, and trying to create something meaningful.

When I first set out, everything was personal. Each post, each article, and each project felt like an extension of my own story. Whether it was telling the gritty, inspiring stories of trail builders or working with small towns to spotlight their hidden adventures through rural tourism, it was all rooted in real people, real places, and a deep sense of purpose.

But here’s the challenge that I struggle with: the bigger things get, the easier it is to lose that connection.