The ruling in Hamm in February 2026 shows what can happen when someone is responsible for maintaining a trail. A rider crashed on a flow trail at a blind spot where the correct line was not visible. The club had secured the area with only a few warning signs and a barrier tape, which wasn’t even stretched out on the day of the accident. The Higher Regional Court awarded the rider 5,000 euros and split the blame equally: the club, for failing to adequately secure the hazard, and the rider herself, for riding too fast despite the warning signs. The court was only able to rule because there was someone to hold accountable. That “someone” isn’t always there.

Who takes responsibility when there’s a crash

On a legal trail, someone is responsible for safety: an operator, a club, or often a municipality or destination that commissioned it. Exactly who that is is secondary. What matters is that the court has someone it can hold liable. The operator bears the duty of care—that is, the obligation to maintain the trail in such a way that no one is injured by an avoidable hazard. If they fail to do so, they are liable, as was the case in Hamm.

With an illegal trail, no one commits to maintenance or safety. However, responsibility doesn’t simply disappear because the builder remains anonymous; instead, it shifts to the next party the law can hold accountable: the landowner, whether private or municipal. It’s true that in the forest, the rule is “enter at your own risk,” and the landowner isn’t liable for rotten branches or wet roots. But as soon as the landowner knows about the riders or tolerates the trail for years, this protection disappears. Then he may be held liable for jumps that a stranger has secretly dug into his hillside. That’s one reason why such trails disappear again.

The risk doesn’t disappear with the illegal construction; it merely shifts elsewhere. From the builder, whom no one can find, to the landowner, whom no one asked, and finally to the rider, who ends up riding on a trail for which no one takes responsibility. One thing is certain: such a trail is safe above all for one person—the one who built it—as long as they remain unseen.

In the end, the one who crashes pays the price

The pressure toward building trails without permits is already there. In a survey of 3,780 European mountain bikers, a majority reported riding unauthorized trails. The most common reason: too few legal options. Even the DIMB, the advocacy group for mountain bikers, warns that excessive requirements and risks are causing volunteer clubs to build fewer new legal trails and, at the same time, to abandon existing ones. And that, in turn, leads to more illegal construction, because mountain bikers have to ride somewhere.

However, resorting to building trails in the wilderness carries other risks. If an illegal trail is discovered, the authorities will have it torn down. Anyone caught building a trail risks prosecution and fines; the landowner may face liability they knew nothing about; and every clandestine trail builder makes the next negotiation for a legal trail more difficult. The builder’s freedom thus comes at the expense of everyone who wants to ride legally in the same area. 

The one who crashes is left to deal with the consequences. On a registered trail, liability is shared—in Hamm, equally. On an illegal one, the person involved in the accident usually bears the full liability alone, because hardly anyone is willing to press charges. In court, the trail builder has nothing to fear; he remains invisible as long as he isn’t caught. The only question is whether one wants to remain invisible if someone is seriously injured on one’s own trail. You won’t be convicted for it. But you’ll be left alone with your conscience.