Your latest social media post could be thoughtful, beautifully produced, and genuinely useful.

It could also disappear from your followers’ feeds before most of them ever knew it existed.

Social media is a lot of fun for me. Over time, I have trained my algorithms to show me content I am interested in. My feeds are filled with bikes, trails, outdoor recreation, photography, small towns, rural tourism, and content marketing. All fun stuff.

But when it comes to creating and publishing social media content, there is a reality we cannot ignore.

One of the challenges many rural communities struggle with is exposure.

I am talking about more than attracting social media views, engagement, and followers. The larger challenge is simply letting other people on planet Earth know that your town exists.

That is where marketing comes to the forefront.

How do you get the word out?

I was standing in the ditch with a camera in my hand as it offered a better angle for photographing the peloton as it raced toward me.

While I waited, I clicked through my camera settings one last time. Then I heard it before I saw it.

A lifted diesel pickup came barreling down the road, drifting toward the centerline. As the driver approached, he spotted me, rolled down his window, flipped me off, and started yelling.

He was moving too fast for me to hear what he said. I didn't need to. He was pissed.

Every time we cut a new trail through the woods, not only are we changing the landscape, but we’re also changing the future of the communities that surround it.

Most of us don’t show up to a dig day thinking about hotel occupancy rates, tax revenue, or rural economic development. We’re thinking about drainage, sightlines, sustainable grades, rockwork, and building the best trail we can. And that’s exactly how it should be.

I’ve been a part of more gravel races than I can count. Most of the time, my role is that of a photographer, capturing the moment. On some levels, that sounds exhilarating. While it is a blast, most of my time is spent waiting, watching … and thinking.

Recently, I shot photos at Cascadia Super Gravel outside of Olympia, Washington. It was my first time there. While I’ll circle back around to more details of the event itself, I want to pick up where I left off in that first paragraph … thinking.

On a random weekend in June, I found myself driving through Moab, Utah.

Long before I reached the edge of town, I knew I had arrived.

Sprinter vans lined the highway with expensive mountain bikes hanging off the back. Signs advertised jeep tours, climbing guides, and bike shuttles. Every parking lot seemed full of dusty adventure rigs. There was an unmistakable energy in the air.

You could feel it.

Every year, the gravel cycling world turns its attention toward Emporia, Kansas.

Thousands of riders from around the world travel to Unbound Gravel. The event attracts roughly 5,000 participants and generates millions of dollars in economic activity for the community. For a few days each year, Emporia becomes the center of the gravel universe.

It’s an impressive success story.

But I think many rural communities are asking the wrong question.

The question isn’t, “How do we become the next Emporia?”

The better question might be, “What is our version of Dufur?”

It’s easy for small towns to look at places like Bentonville, Arkansas, or Moab, Utah, and think: “Well, sure ... but we could never do that here.”

Truth be told, most communities are looking at the finished product instead of the starting point.

What many of today’s well-known cycling destinations figured out early was something surprisingly simple: People will travel for experiences. Especially experiences that feel authentic, scenic, adventurous, and different from everyday life.

That’s where cycling events come into the picture.

Race mornings in small towns are special. I love watching these communities come alive in a different kind of way.

Coffee shops and breakfast places are packed before sunrise. Bike traffic noticeably spikes around town. Hotels that might normally sit half-empty during shoulder season are booked out. Downtown streets buzz with energy.

For many rural communities, cycling events such as gravel races, mountain bike festivals, fondos, and stage races provide an immediate and visible economic boost.

Walk into almost any small-town tourism meeting, chamber of commerce gathering, or downtown revitalization discussion, and eventually the same question surfaces: “How do we actually get people to notice us?”

Not just once.

Not just through a lucky viral post.

But consistently.

That’s the challenge many rural communities are wrestling with right now.