The ATV Question on the Trans Canada Trail

Canadian Trails and Motorized Vehicles.


The question of whether ATVs should be allowed on hiking and cycling trails in Canada - let alone on the Trans Canada Trail - is not a simple one to ask, and even harder to answer.


When the Trans Canada Trail was first envisioned, it was imagined as an off-road, non-motorized corridor: a place where walkers, cyclists, paddlers, and skiers could move through the country at a human pace. That vision mattered. It still matters. And when we began our #Hike4Birds journey from the Atlantic toward the Pacific, we agreed with it instinctively. We believed that if a trail was to be shared by the most vulnerable users - those on foot or on bicycle - then it should be protected from motorized traffic.

At the time, we also assumed there was little meaningful difference between motorized vehicles on trails. Or between snowmobile use and ATV use on pathways. Both were machines. Both moved quickly. Both could damage terrain.

Six years later, that debate has only deepened. The rise of e-bikes and e-scooters has blurred the boundaries even further. These machines can reach significant speeds on shared corridors and, in certain conditions, contribute to erosion or user conflict in ways that look very similar to traditional motorized vehicles. The line between “motorized” and “non-motorized” is no longer as clear as it once seemed.


17,000 km later, we know that we were wrong - or at least incomplete- in our assumptions. The debate turned out to be far less about engines alone than we had imagined.

Over our journey from Newfoundland to British Columbia and the north to Tuktoyaktuk, we have found ourselves not just hiking the full length of the Trans Canada Trail, but standing at the centre of one of its most persistent debates in the outdoors and naturalist realms in the country.

And, to be honest, nothing about it is clear-cut. Mostly because the TCT is not uniform across the nation and regional cultures create huge variations across the country.

Newfoundland: Where the Debate Complicates Itself


In Newfoundland, the T’Railway Trail is not a recreational luxury it is built on the line of an abandoned railway line across the province, and the route is part of regional culture.

The ATVers we met there were not thrill-seekers tearing up fragile terrain. They were families moving between communities, hauling supplies, checking cabins, fishing, hunting, and visiting neighbours. They slowed when they approached us. They waved. They asked where we were headed. They offered directions, food, and in a few cases, assistance when weather or navigation became challenging. They were amazing! As Mel Vogel wrote to us, enjoy Newfoundland, you will miss it all one day. She was right. And that feeling is in large part due to the people and ATVers we met.


Here, though motorized, the trail felt shared and cared for.

It is difficult to stand on a windswept stretch of the T’Railway in the topsails, watch a rider crest a distant rise with a dog perched behind them, and insist that they should be banned outright. Especially when the T’Railway Trail is a firm, fixed, and established rail trail that resists being undermined by motorization.


The same complexity appeared again in rural Saskatchewan and along Alberta’s Iron Horse Trail, as well as across large sections of British Columbia’s Columbia and Western and Kettle Valley Rail Trail corridors. In these places, the distances between towns are immense and the infrastructure supports smaller vehicles. In each of these cases, ATVs are often less recreational and more a form of practical transit. In parts of northern British Columbia and the Yukon, they are simply how one gets from one place to another.

And these realities should be and must be acknowledged.

To ignore that would be to misunderstand huge segments of regional culture and the country itself.

But There Have Also Been Harder Moments


Here we must pause, because we have to note that it would also be dishonest to pretend that our experiences with ATVers have been uniformly positive.

We have been helped by quad drivers when we needed it most. However, we have also been harassed. We have been deliberately passed too closely. We have been shouted at. In one Atlantic region, we were targeted, and in another prairie section, we were struck by an ATV in what felt to be clearly intentional. In another instance, an ATV group threatened us with legal action for photographing their presence on a public trail. All of which is crummy and reveals the negatives of some of these groups.


Those moments are not theoretical. They stay with you. They shape how you move. They alter how safe you feel. When you are emailed that a particular ATV group is coming to get you tonight, it stays with you. You walk on and walk faster.

Added to these situations, we have also had long conversations with TCT volunteers, trail builders and trail organizers across the country about ATVers that set out to deliberately damage sections, foster erosion, destroyed gates, vandalized signage, and targeted fragile conservation areas for sport. In addition, we stayed with and talked with other trail workers who have had their own property targeted and cars vandalized for supporting limited ATV access.


Across the nation, we found ourselves in deeply polarized conversations. Some communities wanted ATVs - and even trucks - permitted on the trail throughout their section. Others were adamant that no motorized vehicles should ever touch the corridor.

The temptation is to choose a side. But the longer we walked, the more we realized that the issue is not about motorization alone.

It Is About Trail Ethics


Snowmobile clubs across Canada offer a powerful example of the positive contributions from users of motorized vehicles. In many provinces, these clubs construct warming huts, maintain signage, groom surfaces meticulously, and enforce codes of conduct among their members. The result is a culture of stewardship that benefits everyone – including those who use the trails outside of snow season. These groups are amazing and essential.


At the same time, we have met many ATVers who embody that same ethic. Riders who slow near walkers. Clubs that maintain culverts and bridges. Volunteers who take pride in keeping corridors passable for all. They are respectful and helpful to all trail users.

And, of course, we have seen the opposite.

With that said, however, we have also seen cyclists race recklessly through narrow sections, screaming at anyone on the trail to move – often without warning. We have seen hikers leave trash behind – tucked into tree stumps and under camping platforms.  We have been amazed by walkers in cities who march across trails 5 and 6 people across and refuse to give way to other trail users.   We have seen illegal campfires built in drought-prone areas – still lit as we walk past a day or two later.

Irresponsibility is not exclusive to engines and motorized vehicles or those who drive ATVs. The deeper issue is behaviour and responsibility.


We have come to see that trails are microcosms of regional attitudes and local dynamics. They reflect urban growth pressures, local economic realities, cultural traditions, conservation values, and political tensions. In areas where development has encroached upon lands once used freely for motorized recreation, resentment sometimes follows. In regions where conservation is not widely embraced, protective measures provoke backlash.

And to again be honest, there are times when we see people railing against what they see as absurd new rules that have resulted from urban sprawl and changing government rules without being involved in the process, in that we can appreciate their frustrations.

The trail becomes the stage upon which those tensions play out. Those who use the trail become unwitting participants in the public debate.

The Trans Canada Trail Is Not One Thing


Another truth complicates the debate further: the Trans Canada Trail cannot be completed by a single mode of travel. The Trans Canada Trail is not a single system of off-road pathways and rail trails.

Entire water routes exist that are impossible to hike. Mountain passes are impassable in certain seasons. One northern Ontario section follows a marsh that functions primarily as a winter snowmobiling trail and requires hikers in other seasons to detour onto local roadways.


In Northern Ontario and across the Prairies, vast sections of the Great Trail are on roadways and highways. In the Yukon, just north of Whitehorse, we encountered permafrost-affected ground that is only stable at specific times of year. Most users on it rely on either snowmobiles or ATVs to traverse this section. In the summer, it cannot be easily hiked.

Other regions throughout the country use ATVs to undertake trail maintenance by necessity. The idea that the Trail is, or ever was, is clearly a purely pedestrian corridor or cycling route is more aspiration than reality.


Add to all of this the simple and evident fact that Canada is vast and diverse – in the extreme. The Trail crosses private lands, municipal corridors, decommissioned rail beds, logging roads, snowmobile routes, waterways, and urban greenways. Its identity shifts with geography and has to adapt to local realities.

And so perhaps the ATV question cannot be answered nationally in a single sentence or with a simple reply.

Can ATVs and Walkers Share the Same Trails?


We have come to believe that the short answer is yes - coexistence is possible. But it requires several acknowledgements – on every side.


It requires ATV users to recognize that walkers and cyclists are more vulnerable. Speed must be reduced. Dust minimized. Noise moderated. Yielding must become reflexive, not optional. Arrogance and attitude reeled in.

At the same time, it also requires hikers and cyclists to recognize that in some regions ATVs are culturally embedded and practically necessary. Dismissal or moral superiority helps no one. Common sense and consideration are essential.

It also requires trail organizations to include ATV groups in development and maintenance, giving them both responsibility and accountability. Exclusion breeds resentment. Inclusion, when structured well, fosters stewardship – the amazing snowmobile and ATV groups across the country have shown us all this.

It also requires clear signage, well-developed infrastructure, and maintenance standards that minimize conflict points. Above all, it requires a shared trail ethic - one that transcends the machine and centres on respect. Respect for the trail, and respect for other trail users.

It is that simple, and that complex.

Regional Realities Matter


What works across Newfoundland may not work outside Halifax or west of Winnipeg. What is appropriate in northern British Columbia may be unacceptable in dense urban corridors near Toronto. In rural Manitoba or Saskatchewan, where communities may be separated by dozens or hundreds of kilometers of open land, ATVs serve practical needs. In Muskoka in Ontario or parts of Nova Scotia where urban growth presses against fragile natural areas, motorized use may create pressures that are difficult to manage.


A uniform national ban or blanket permission ignores these complexities. Canada rarely fits into absolutes. Sometimes local issues require local solutions and compromise.

The Harder Work


If coexistence is possible, it is not effortless. We have come to see that mixed-use trails on the TCT would require:

It requires: 

Inclusion with accountability. ATV clubs should have a seat at the table and obligations tied to maintenance, enforcement, and education.

 A codified, visible trail ethic. Clear expectations for all users: slow near others, yield to vulnerable travellers, pack out waste, respect closures, protect wildlife and sensitive areas. 

Infrastructure that supports coexistence. Well-designed surfaces, drainage systems, signage, and maintenance regimes reduce friction dramatically. 

Recognition of local culture, geography, and realities. Policy must reflect place and regional attitudes.

This is slower work than arguing for bans but it is also more sustainable.

A Common Trail


The Trans Canada Trail is not merely a line across a map. It is a national commons - imperfect, evolving, shaped by compromise.

We have walked through places where ATVers stopped to ensure we were safe. We have walked through places where engines accelerated deliberately in our direction. Both realities exist.
To pretend otherwise would be dishonest.


We began this journey believing the solution was simple. Keep it non-motorized. Protect the vulnerable. Conserve the natural environment and preserve the original vision.

After thousands of kilometres, we understand that the vision must contend with geography, culture, history, and human behaviour. The machine itself is not the moral problem. The ethic is.

If ATV users adopt and enforce a culture of stewardship - slowing, yielding, maintaining, protecting - then shared use can work. If walkers and cyclists recognize regional realities and engage respectfully rather than dismissively, tensions can be eased. If trail organizations invest in inclusion rather than polarization, long-term solutions become possible.


The Trans Canada Trail has always been an ambitious idea stitched across a vast and varied country. It reflects us. Our generosity, our stubbornness, our divisions, and our willingness to compromise.

So can ATVs and people use the same trails? Yes.

But only if all of us - on foot, on bike, on skis, or on four wheels - choose to act as stewards rather than merely users. Because in the end, the question is not about engines. It is about the respect we carry with us down the path.

See you on the trail!

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