Lora Anthony, Executive Director

When I moved to Park City, my children were toddlers and infants. We found our new community, exercise and mental wellbeing outdoors, on the trails. With the twins in a double-wide baby jogger and the two older boys on foot or tiny mtb’s, our trail adventures were long in duration but not distance. If we made it from our house to the Whistling Gate in Round Valley, it was an epic tour.

Back then, the days seemed to pass so slowly, one day flowing seamlessly into the next. One trail adventure after another, the years went by. I couldn’t see it then, but those days were not crawling, they were flying. Fast. Away.  Suddenly, or so it seemed, my boys were all grown up and I was left pining for my littles. And then in February, the longing was relieved as my oldest son and his wife brought us a granddaughter, Elodie.

Last week, I felt the most important part of my life come full circle. As Elodie and I ventured out onto the newly surfaced Round Valley Express on our first baby jogger tour, it was like being in a time machine that took me back a quarter century. The mountain views, sunshine and fresh, cool spring air were the same as back then. Elk and deer, hawks and sandhill cranes flying overhead, coyotes, badgers – all the same. Well, maybe a few more badgers.

Thanks to the work of local government, Park City’s visionary leaders of the late 20th century, and land trusts, Summit Land Conservancy and Utah Open Lands, little has changed in Round Valley in 25 years. Except for one thing – the addition of the many miles of trails that provide gentle access for humans, big and small, to the great outdoors. Rademan Ridge and Rambler, the oldest of trails in Round Valley, are accompanied these days by many others in delivering joy and wellbeing to the children and grown ups of this community.

Stepping out of the way-back machine, I find myself here, older, perhaps a little wiser, still with trail dirt on my legs and, today, with sublime fulfilment in my soul.

To every donor who supports the trails and open spaces that make this community what it is – now and for generations to come – please accept my heart felt thanks.

What a wild and wonderful circle of life this is.    

See you out there,

Lora Anthony, Executive Director

Urban legend has it that the flit of a butterfly wing can cause a tornado on the other side of the planet. And, while science may have a thing or two to tell us about that legend’s validity, when one labors in the nonprofit world, like we do here at MTF, one has the privilege of a front row seat to a stage upon which small actions yield colossal impacts.

This month, the 2025 MTF budget was polished and memorialized. Anybody from the nonprofit sector can affirm that budgeting is something of an art in our world. There is very little predictability when it comes to the expenses side of the column, and even less when it comes to the revenue (read: donations) side. For instance, last year, MTF saw two major, unexpected repair bills for equipment critical to summer projects underway. And, as is always the case, financial markets, politics, grant competition, attitudes about charitable giving, and so on, seem to blow with the wind making income projection a moving target.

Enter the butterfly effect: it is because nearly one thousand smaller donations stack up each year that MTF has the capacity to weather unforeseen gusts, soar on windfalls and continue the mission to build, maintain and protect trails. It is the small shimmies of many donor wings that create an updraft which keeps MTF – and the trails we care for – aloft year after year.

On behalf of the board of directors, crew and trail lovers, I thank our donors, big and small, for their faith in this organization.