On a rain-soaked run, award-winning storyteller and athlete Dani Reyes-Acosta reflects on resilience, restoration and the vital connections between recreation and forest health.

This past September, I found myself on a soggy endeavor to fastpack a 32-mile loop in Colorado’s San Juan National Forest. Three hours of rain hadn’t dampened my spirits. My rain jacket had finally come in handy, keeping me mostly dry. However, my objective — to run this entire loop in one day — had changed with the weather.

Looking up from the puddled trail, I watched fog weave through aspens, spruce and pine. The wet trees sheltered a path that faded into the forest below, folding into a world of wonder in which there was so much more than met the eye.

High-altitude forests are more than just scenic backdrops — they’re living ecosystems that sustain our recreational pursuits and the environment we depend on. Like many who find solace among the trees, I’ve discovered that our relationship with forests must shift from mere appreciation to active partnership to fortify their resilience.

A new perspective

I started running five years ago after hand and back injuries impeded my ability to pursue some of my more extreme endeavors, like mountaineering, rock climbing and backcountry snowboarding. Trail running felt the most natural and, honestly, was one of the only activities for which I could get medical clearance.

This unexpected pivot has given me a new perspective on forests — these powerful places that enable us to travel, train and find deep personal meaning. By navigating forests on foot, I’ve had the chance to more keenly notice and appreciate the flow of water they produce, observe signs of stress from mountain pine beetle and climate change, and witness the destruction of severe wildfire. These tell a greater story — one of resilience tested by increasing challenges.

A resource too precious to lose

On a recent autumn ramble (more sun, no rain!), I returned to the 32-mile loop, which was strikingly abundant with streams still flowing mightily late in September at over 11,000 feet.

As a trail runner, water can make or break my day. How many liters can I carry? Will streams flow when I need them most? The answers to these questions lie in our forests. Nature’s reservoirs, our forests hold winter snow and filter the water that sustains communities throughout the West. Every drop that quenches our thirst on the trail is part of a larger system that begins in these woodlands.

Not only do these forests shelter runs and provide a cooling drink, they also support wildlife, clean our air, and help protect other natural places by soaking up carbon dioxide and acting as a natural solution to climate change.

Yet the numbers paint a harsh reality: forests nationwide are suffering. Between 2020 and 2021, wildfires doubled the number of acres of national forest lands needing restoration. Today, more than 3.6 million acres of national forest lands need to be reforested.

For me, the significance of this number lies in the fact that, in many locations, this land can’t reforest itself without human partnership.

Destruction sparks hope

As I pushed forward on my run, I moved through swaths of gnarled, naked trees. The pine needle loss startled me. But, as I learned in conversation with Dr. Elizabeth Pansing, American Forests’ director of forest and restoration science, forest damage isn’t always bad.

According to Dr. Pansing, forests have evolved with disturbances including wildfire, insects, and disease — it’s part of why they have the structure and composition they do, and how they’re able to provide important ecosystem services.

But when that damage becomes too extreme, we risk losing large swaths of entire forests to things like the mountain pine beetle — one of the biggest threats to western forests. That’s when we need researchers like Dr. Pansing to work alongside foresters, scientists and everyday people to intervene and partner with our forests.

Evidence of this relationship appears even more starkly in burn scars. As I ran through a section of fire-blackened trees, I recalled my first encounter with severe forest damage years ago while snowboarding in Wyoming’s Bridger-Teton National Forest. Here, forests decimated by mountain pine beetle had become easy kindling that sparked destructive wildfire years ago. Yet, the charred trunks, which contrasted dark against the untouched snow, also told a story about the potential for recovery.

American Forests, the USDA Forest Service and additional partners are advancing science-driven restoration to return healthy forests with greater resilience to climate change to the places we love through the REPLANT Act. As part of the Infrastructure Investment and Jobs Act of 2021, the REPLANT Act directly addresses the backlog of damaged forests by increasing funding for critical climate-smart restoration. Sometimes, this means replanting thousands of acres; other times, it involves researching disease-resistant trees.

As much as REPLANT is a big investment in public lands, it’s also a big investment in us — the recreationists who love them. It’s enabling stewards everywhere to support and restore these forests so that people and wildlife alike can once more flock to them.

Partnerships make a difference

I’ve observed the landslides that occur in fire burn scars. I’ve seen how mud, rocks, boulders and entire trees become entrenched in what seems like an unstoppable flow fueled by gravity.

The fear I’ve felt at watching a landslide, or an avalanche, always reminds me that my time here is fleeting. Impermanence pervades every aspect of any outdoor lover’s experience. From the turning of autumnal leaves to the seasonal flows of water, nothing stays the same.

Yet the days outside that stay etched in my memory aren’t the ones when I’ve ventured out solo, at the whim of the elements and my mind. The unforgettable days are the ones when a friend has come along for the ride, adding a skillset, a snack, or a knowledge base I didn’t have available to me.

Partnerships in forest restoration are just like partnerships in running, ski touring or climbing. Everyone brings something different to the table. And the more perspectives and insights we include, the better the long-term result.

In the coming years, American Forests, government agencies, corporate partners and others will continue working together to fund, plan and implement forest restoration efforts. But they’ll need support from those of us who know and love our forests and want to protect these magical places for years to come.

Securing the future of our forests

As my run came to an end, the day’s last light filtered through the canopy, I paused at the edge of a burn scar, my legs heavy with miles but my spirit lifted at what I saw. In the blackened soil before me, tiny seedlings pushed through the debris. Chickadees flitted between skeletal branches — nature showing us how renewal works in real-time.

The duality of both mourning loss and marveling at renewal has reshaped my understanding of what resilience truly means. Here, amid the stark contrast of charred trunks and fresh growth, the forest offers its timeless lesson: Resilience comes through perseverance.

Together, we can advocate for and nurture thriving forests that withstand the impacts of climate change while continuing to provide clean water, wildlife habitat and space for recreation. As these picturesque landscapes evolve, the spirit of partnership that defines our best days outdoors can also help secure our forests for future generations.

Join me in supporting forest restoration — sign up for updates through the American Forests email newsletter, follow along on Instagram, Facebook and LinkedIn, or learn more about the REPLANT Act.

About the Author:

Dani Reyes-Acosta is an award-winning advocate, filmmaker and strategist inspiring individual action and collective communion through stories of reciprocity in the outdoors.

After leaving corporate life, Dani ticked rock climbs and ski lines across Argentina, Chile, Canada and the U.S. on a circuitous path to self-actualization.

Based on a farmstead in southwest Colorado, Dani is proudly reclaiming the complexities of her heritage as a food producer, cultivator and legacy Coloradan. Follow her journey on Instagram @NotLostJustDiscovering and learn more about Dani at NotLostJustDiscovering.com.

As the founder of rural Colorado-based Afuera Productions, Dani’s work includes creative strategy and change communications for Fortune 100 companies as well as film credits like WELL WORN LIFE (2022) and OUTLIER: TRUST (2022). Her perspective has been featured in the New York Times, the Washington Post, The Alpinist and more on topics ranging from splitboard mountaineering and mountain mindfulness to rural living, community-building and climate justice.