Why Arizona’s AmeriCorps Crews Matter—And What We Lose Without Them
Somewhere in the woods outside Flagstaff, Arizona, a four-year-old is pedaling their bike along a trail their parents love. They don’t know it, but just days earlier, a small team of young adults cleared that path. Dug out the drain. Packed down the brush. Made the turn just a little easier to navigate.
This is the magic of the “trail fairies”—a name used with pride by the Arizona Conservation Corps (AZCC), a public lands corps that deploys AmeriCorps members across the state to restore public lands, build trails, and manage forests. The projects are vital—but the deeper impact lies in the human transformation. This youth conservation program gives structure, mentorship, and purpose to young adults—especially those who didn’t see many doors open to them.
And if we’re not careful, this quiet magic could disappear.
The Road Trip: Listening to Service
I spent the first half of this month road-tripping across the western U.S., meeting with AmeriCorps field teams and youth service programs impacted by the April 2025 AmeriCorps budget cuts. These federal service reductions are quiet, but the consequences are loud—especially in states like Arizona, where outdoor public service programs play a critical role in land stewardship and wildfire prevention.
AZCC was my first stop in Arizona; a stunning day in Flagstaff. Staff members Shonto Greyeyes and Connor Tipping (both former conservation corps members and now the Program Director and Program Coordinator, respectively) took time to help me understand the implications of AZCC’s programming being cut.
⚠️ From 8 Crews to 4—And What That Means for Safety
AZCC once ran eight outdoor trail crews at a time. Right now, they can only support four. That means less trail repair across Arizona, fewer conservation service programs for young adults, and increased risk across the state’s most loved hiking paths and public access lands.
And by 2026, that number could shrink again as federal partner agencies — AmeriCorps, the US Forest Service, and others — face quixotic budget cuts and unclear futures.
This isn’t just about lost opportunities for young adults—though that matters deeply.
It’s also about safety. For all of us.
When trails go unmaintained, they don’t just get harder to hike. They get more dangerous. Drainage fails. Brush obscures turns. Ruts trip runners. Parents stop bringing kids. Seniors stay home. And when wildfires hit, overgrown terrain becomes even more flammable.
Every crew AZCC can’t send is a crew not preventing these problems. A crew not managing risk. A crew not making the places we love safer for everyone.
And without AmeriCorps, the cost burden shifts—local partners end up paying more to do less. These aren’t freebies. They’re smart investments that stretch taxpayer dollars further. Lose that support, and we either overpay—or we let the work go undone.
The Life Trail Side of this Service
The crews call themselves trail fairies because they’re rarely seen by the public—but their presence is felt everywhere.
These aren’t desk jobs. These are eight-day hitches in the backcountry. This is real, physical work. They dig, build, saw, haul—and then come home stronger.
Yes, the projects will probably still get done—eventually. Just slower. With fewer hands. What’s harder to recover is what AmeriCorps makes possible beyond the brush-clearing: a life trail for young people who may not see another way forward. AZCC offers mentorship, stability, higher education funding, and purpose to people who didn’t think they had many options. It helps them transform—not just trails, but themselves.
AZCC is not a handout. It’s a launch pad. During my visit, I met with people who didn’t have the grades or financial safety net for college, but used AZCC to find a way forward. The organization turns local young adults with no clear path into taxpayers, trail maintainers, and future public servants.
And they’re not just doing the work. They’re training the next generation. Crew members support each other, share knowledge, and carry forward a hands-on culture of accountability and leadership. It’s not charity. It’s not dependency. It’s a living system of shared knowledge and hard-earned skill, kept alive by people who know that if they don’t do it, no one will.
These young people are also ready for anything. Rain, snow, fire season, backcountry risks—they go out equipped, trained, and resilient. AZCC makes sure they’re ready, not just for the work, but for the world.
What Happens When We Lose AmeriCorps
Without AmeriCorps and other long-standing federal investments, AZCC won’t just lose match funding and education awards.
Arizona will lose something bigger:
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Trails that are safe and welcoming
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Rural economies supported by outdoor access
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The next generation of civic leaders, fire professionals, and public servants
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The passing of hard-earned skills from one generation to the next
We’ll lose the invisible hands that make our public lands safe, accessible, and alive.
And we’ll lose the people who would have grown into their best selves while doing that work.
And that four-year-old on their training-wheeled bike?
They’re the one who gets hurt.
Why Even the Most Skeptical Should Care
This isn’t about Washington.
It’s about your trail, your safety, and your neighbor’s kid finally getting a fair shot.
Programs like AZCC are what happen when local grit meets smart federal partnership. They don’t just save money—they make it go farther. They don’t create dependency—they build resilience. And they don’t ask for much—just the resources to keep showing up.
Give someone a shot, and they give back tenfold. A local kid becomes a local leader.
That’s the American dream—built with a chainsaw and a tent.
✅ Want to Help?
Call your Members of Congress. Tell them AmeriCorps matters—to Arizona’s trails, and to the people who maintain them.
Support AZCC. Donate gear. Offer funding. Share this post.
Look for the trail fairies. They’re still out there. But without urgent action, some trails may go quiet next season.