Bikes Rule in Bentonville

When we first heard of Bentonville, Arkansas, the images that came to mind were of Walmart, which originated here, and Sam Walton’s first iteration of a discount store. Certainly not a mountain bike mecca, a culturally rich liberal arts scene, and perhaps the best bike trail network in North America.

To call this small city of 57,000 “bike-friendly” is an understatement. In fact the entire town has been redesigned around mountain biking.

It was worth the 18-hour drive from Collingwood; when we arrived it was late, so we crashed, and the next morning jumped on our bikes to explore the town in search of coffee, which we quickly found.

“Did you bike here?” asked a barista at the cafe Airship, which sits below a bike-friendly building called Ledger—a bright, modern edifice that calls itself the world’s first bikeable building, where hip, cutting-edge businesses can rent space to set up their headquarters, and you literally bike up bike ramps to your work space.

“Yes,” I replied. 

“Then you receive a 10 percent discount.”

We couldn’t believe it. This place was a utopian paradise. A place where cars will slow down and let you cross the street, any time, anywhere—just because you are on a bike.

Bentonville has been referred to as “Disneyland for mountain bikers.” This track, complete with tabletops and banked corners, is one of hundreds of mountain bike features within town limits.

This is a place where mountain bikers ride a trail network—like a real, genuine mountain biking trail network, complete with log skinnies, tabletops, banked corners and more—to get anywhere in town. In fact, it’s a place built around mountain biking, and it’s a world-class destination.

It is a town that is nothing you would think of if I asked you to imagine the headquarters of—and the location of the first-ever—Walmart. You might imagine and describe something more, well, corporate? 

“This might be the most culturally rich town I’ve been to in America,” said my buddy, as we sipped our fine espressos and ate our breakfast sandwiches made with local free-range eggs.

Just then, a tattooed hipster with a mustache arrived with our smoothies.

“Are you guys going to the Roots concert tonight?” he asked, referring to the show that evening at a local cultural centre called The Momentary, which regularly hosts international iconic acts. He went on, “Or are you headed to the Home Sweet Home festival?”

The latter is a series of house concerts hosted by individual homeowners in Bentonville—musical acts play in living rooms around town, and concertgoers move from home to home.

All of which to say that my buddy was right, Bentonville has unexpected artistic chops. The downtown itself is a quintessential American downtown, complete with a town square, a farmers market on Saturdays, and cafes, patios and bike shops everywhere. All of which are accessed via that aforementioned trail network, which stretches hundreds of kilometres and connects downtown to a wealth of equally impressive riding trails in the surrounding forests and hills.

No more trying to cram your bike in an elevator—the Ledger, a bike friendly office building in downtown Bentonville, features ramps up each of the floors. So you can literally bike right to your desk.

It all started when a couple key descendants of Sam Walton—founder of Walmart—took a keen interest in mountain biking and decided to invest from the family trust in making the town the “Mountain Bike Capital of America.” In the style of Walmart—where success breeds more success—the trail network was created. Walmart itself, still headquartered in town, continued to recruit ever more cutting-edge talent, which obviously was aided by the allure of a culturally rich place to live, complete with some of the best biking to be found anywhere.

As a matter of fact, trails and bike access in kilometres outnumber the sidewalks in this town.

Later, as we completed a trail circuit called Coler Mountain, just outside of town on a nature preserve, we spotted another Airship open-air coffee place under the big trees built on a former homestead: barn and house, a throwback to the area’s early farming days.

Later that day, I noticed my bike had a creak in the linkage somewhere. It certainly was loud enough that you could hear me coming up the hills. It was too much; I had to bring it into a shop. Luckily, the locals pointed me in the direction of Phat Tire Bike Shop, located downtown.

Never wanting to be that one customer who puts unrealistic turnaround-time expectations on the bike tech, I cautiously approached the servicer counter.

“Hey man,” I said to one of the dudes engrossed in cable replacement. “It’s not an emergency, but I’ve got a creak in my bike and I’m wondering what the turnaround time would be, you know, if I like, drop it off for you guys? Like, that way I know how long it’s going to take….” My voice trailed off. I was stumbling through words now. I guess I’m gun shy from past experiences of asking that question and having my head chopped off.

Well in this case, I was asked a question in return.

“Are you from out of town?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m from Canada.”

“I can look at it now if you want. Do you want a beer while you wait?”

“A beer? Sure!”

“Yeah man, all our customers get free beer while they wait for their bikes.”

Ten minutes and 10 bucks later I was back in business. This is my kind of town.