Gabriela Hydle is a proud Mayan Guatemalan woman, outdoor advocate, and the Chief Director of Programs at Americas for Conservation and the Arts (AFCA). Her journey into the world of outdoor recreation didn’t begin in childhood or through traditional pathways; it began with a single mountain bike ride that reshaped her life. Growing up without access to outdoor adventure or cycling culture, she never saw herself reflected in those spaces. But that first ride opened a door to strength, resilience, and self-discovery that would come to define both her personal path and her professional mission.
Since then, she has explored nearly every cycling discipline: gravel, downhill, fat biking, bikepacking, and road, each one teaching her lessons in patience, focus, and trust. Her journey led her to become, possibly, the first Guatemalan to earn a BICP Level 1 mountain bike instructor certification, a milestone not only of personal growth but of representation in a space where Indigenous, immigrant, and brown bodies are still too often invisible.
At AFCA, she leads with intention, developing programs rooted in environmental justice, cultural preservation, and equitable access to the outdoors. Her work bridges traditional ecological knowledge with contemporary conservation practices, and includes bilingual workshops, youth mentorship, and multi-state collaborations that center on underrepresented communities. She also brings this commitment to grassroots spaces such as supporting Spanish-language bike mechanic classes for Latinas, where bikes become tools of empowerment, connection, and identity.
Beyond biking, she recently learned how to ski, a sport she never imagined trying, especially not as an adult. Skiing was unfamiliar, intimidating, and way outside her comfort zone. But like biking, it taught her that fear can be a teacher and that growth often lives just on the other side of discomfort. Every time she shows up for something new, she reminds herself: I belong here, too. She is expanding her movement practice through a 200-hour yoga teacher training and training for her first relay Ironman (iron person), constantly seeking growth, even in discomfort. Whether on a bike, on skis, or on a yoga mat, she believes movement is a form of healing and resistance.
Her mission is clear: to make the outdoors a more inclusive, transformative space. She rides and leads for those who haven’t yet seen themselves in these landscapes, so they, too, can know they belong.
Gabriela is also a volunteer Outings Leader with Latino Outdoors Colorado. Her favorite part about leading is seeing people discover nature for the first time or when we are all outside sharing with their families or friends and the moment they realize that the outdoors can be for them, too. It’s a privilege to be part of this adventure, where Latinx families come together, share stories, and build confidence in wild spaces where they’ve not always felt seen.
After months of preparation and connecting with outdoor advocates across the country, we came together once again, this time in the heart of our nation’s capital. This October, I joined Outdoor Alliance and a national network of recreation enthusiasts, conservationists, and community advocates in Washington, D.C., for the 2025 Fall Fly-In (Trip Report).
We arrived during a government shutdown, but our commitment didn’t waver. We showed up for our gente, our communities, and the lands that sustain us, because protecting public lands is protecting people. We came to convey a message: public lands are for the people, and that includes Latino communities.
In every conversation, our coalition emphasized bipartisanship, reminding lawmakers that public lands protection is truly “the best idea we ever had”. We discussed the importance of policies that unite us around shared values — clean air, safe water, and access to nature. We also urged leaders to defend against the sale or privatization of public lands, which would strip communities of access, harm local economies, and undermine the cultural and natural heritage these landscapes hold.
Latino Outdoors’ advocacy is grounded in our shared values — family, community, hard work, and respect for the environment. Nearly 70% of Latinos live in nature-deprived neighborhoods, and 1 in 2 breathe unhealthy air. Protecting public lands directly supports cleaner air, safer water, and healthier communities. With more than 36 million eligible Latino voters nationwide, our collective voice continues to shape the future of conservation and public lands policy. Across party lines, Latinos consistently support measures that protect the environment and promote equitable access to nature for all.
Outdoor Alliance members posing for photos outside the United States Capitol.
Captured in Washington, D.C., on October 21, 2025. — (Kevin Lowery, @kevloweryphoto / Collection Media @collectiondotmedia)
Our Voice, Our Power, ¡Yo Cuento!
The November 4th election results demonstrated the power of our communities when we come together. From California to New York and across our country, voters showed up, and our shared commitments to defend our shared values against division and disinformation. Even amid a prolonged government shutdown and ongoing political tension, these results remind us that hope remains our most powerful tool, but so does action. We cannot afford silence.
Taking a stand and speaking truth to power is a privilege, but it is one of the many ways we can honor those who fought before us and build the future we all deserve. When we vote, organize, and lift one another up, we remind this nation that democracy only works when the people do. That’s the beauty of America, its strength comes from the people who refuse to give up, who care deeply, and who believe that justice is worth fighting for.
Together, we are the future — our strength and unity will help us protect the lands we love and the people who call them home.
Action Alerts
Thank lawmakers here for making the public lands package happen.
Support the Legacy Restoration Fund Reauthorization, which renews investments in repairing critical maintenance needs in our national parks and public lands — protecting access, safety, and the visitor experience for generations to come.
Tell Congress to Protect Public Lands and Waters and The People Who Care for Them: Help keep those who manage the lands fully staffed and funded, and stand up against rollbacks and public land sell-offs of America’s greatest treasures. Including protecting the Roadless Rule, which safeguards more than 58 million acres of forest backcountry, which is vital to clean water, wildlife, and outdoor recreation.
Learn5 Reasons to Love the Antiquities Act, which empowers presidents to protect places of historic, cultural, and environmental significance as national monuments, ensuring sacred sites and stories, often from Indigenous and Latino communities, are preserved for future generations.
Protecting our public lands safeguards our ecosystems and ensures the preservation of our livelihoods for generations to come.
I walk, I breathe, I can feel the heat, I appreciate the birds singing, I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, my earth-colored skin, where flowers bloom. I look to my left and I see construction workers, building an apartment building, each of them working hard to give opportunities of a better tomorrow to their families. Many of them will never be able to hug their parents or grandparents again. The day they left was never to return, their footprints marked the path they had to walk, early one morning the dew covered the crop and the roosters crowed to say goodbye.
In that walk all the stories of childhood passed through your mind. You were on your way to meet with a group of people leaving north, that day the coffee did not taste the same, that day the sky was witness to another departure. They told you not to take much, but your grandmother never got that information, she woke early to prepare tortillas to take, the smoke from the fire wrapping you like a farewell hug; she packed that last meal loaded with hope. The neighbors said goodbye Tachajil awi, you will no longer be part of Tachajil awi the plantation this year. Your mother gave you a blessing and with tears in her eyes and a broken heart, wishing you a good trip and knowing the Yuum K’aaxo’ob protects you. You leave. You get on a truck, the next stop is uncertain, it is uncomfortable, it is hot and there is barely any water or space. Above all there is a smell of fading earth, as the hours pass and the mountains of your village become distant, everything is more real, you are going north. After several hours you remember that backpack and take out the meal, which will fill your stomach but also your heart. The backpack is heavy because you realize that it is loaded with dreams, but above all it is loaded with sorrows, anguish and fear. Suddenly in the crowd you notice there is a child watching you. You not only share a smile but food as well. The main ingredient is resilience because your grandmother, who is a widow, suffered from the internal war that lasted 36 years, a war that was called the Mayan Holocaust.
It is getting dark, the air is cold, while dozing off in the middle of the desert. You remember that your family had to sell their few possessions, your mother’s wedding hüipil and your grandmother’s precious silver necklace, they sold that so you could undertake this journey, and in this way become a weather vane that can change the course of the ship. You have to get there no matter how you have to get there, because the remittance will pay for the trip and you will finally be able to buy that stove for your mother. How she wishes she could keep cooking like her mom over an open fire, but she does not have the time now that she works for a salary that is barely enough to pay the rent.
Years have passed and that story has been forgotten, traditions live in your heart and grandma is no longer around. Now you go back to work, strapping on your toolbelt ready to finish the day’s work. It is extremely hot. Something the occupants may not notice as the apartments will be air-conditioned once your work is complete. I keep walking and I see day laborers, it is lunch time. There is nothing close to provide them with shade, they eat their lunch from their van to get a break from the sun. A quick lunch and silent talk. They have to make a better life for their children, now they have a house and don’t have to share the same room made out of corrugated steel.
Days pass and I call my friend to find out how she is doing in the suburbs of Los Angeles, they are living in fear. They do not want to go out even to the supermarket, their children are locked in an apartment in the middle of the summer, she says this is worse than the pandemic. She tells me to please use my privilege to share her story. She lost her husband two years ago, she came when she was young and has no papers because the system did not work for her. A system that has left her in this undocumented status even after both her husband and mother were granted legal status. She asks, “what happens if they deport me when my children are in school, who will cook dinner for them that night?” These stories are of people that are working in a country that has benefited economically from immigrants, illegal, legal, and all the different stages in between.
Our government set up these systems to benefit many sectors in the United States and now the very same people who have worked are being punished for supporting those systems.
My story begins in this country 20 years ago, when after graduating from college I was traveling and met the person who would become my husband. We got married 18 years ago, after moving to the US, I received a box full of souvenirs, some junk, and a clay pot, which has drained after I emigrated leaving my family, friends and a country full of esotericism, history, and a culture that pulsated in my heart. I was now in a foreign country with a culture I did not understand. After trying to fill this vessel with tears and longing, in human connections, I found empathy and new stories of resilience. In the community, I found hope.
My work with the Latino community began two years ago with Irene Vilar the founder of AFC+A. Providing opportunities for access to open space, forest bathing, and cultural events to communities that have historically and systematically been discriminated against. It has been a world-wind of change where I could see my actions directly affecting the lives of many people.
Unfortunately, after the election everything changed for the worst. Our DEI (Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) programs were presented in a way that made it look like we were doing something illegal or bad. Our funding was withheld and we have only been able to hold a few events this year. These programs are used to create community, understanding and create safe spaces where families can find peace and hope, but these spaces are shrinking daily.
When raids began in one county in Denver, 50% of the children in that county did not attend school for several days. The stories are nuanced, and this generational anxiety over federal immigration detentions and policies rooted in fear and exclusion has gripped thousands of immigrant residents and led many to limit the time they spend in public. In a divided times leading with compassion and respect, is how we can heal and grow together. Check on your immigrant community, help create an emergency preparedness plan, and use your voice, and privilege. You can learn more on Latino Outdoor’s Know Your Rights Resource page.
“Immigrants are a backbone, yet they’re being targeted and mistreated. This isn’t just wrong, it’s unacceptable. Our community deserves respect, dignity, and protection”. -Casa de Paz
Reforma Migratoria
Partiendo de la premisa
De que el pueblo inmigrante es la leva-brazo impresindible
De esta colosal máquina
Denominada Estados Unidos
Esta desesperanza tiene más de tres décadas
De ingerir el mismo caldo de cultivo
Charola con falacias de ambos partidos
Además del trato de indole tercermundista
No más seudopromesas
Ya basta de convertirnos en trampolín político
De retóricas trilladas estamos hasta el hartazgo
Por eso y muchas cosas
más
Nos encontramos en pie de lucha.
Urge reforma migratoria
Comprensiba, inclusiva, humana e imparcial.
– J.M. Patraca
Books recommendations:
A Magnificently Ordinary Romance: A Poetry Collection. – Celia Martinez.
Serving the Underserved: Strategies for Inclusive Community Engagement. – Dr. Catharine Bomhold
IMMIGRANT: I am a Mayan Q’anjob’al, a Guatemalan, an immigrant, a son, a brother, a husband, a father, and a tech entrepreneur: my ancestry roots are my strength, and my people’s history my testimony. -Marcos Antil.
Say the Right Thing: How to Talk About Identity, Diversity, and Justice. – Kenji Yoshino , David Glasgow
La distancia entre nosotros. -Reyna Grande.
No somos de aquí. – Jenny Torres Sanchez
Stamped. Rendi Racism, Antiracism and You. – Jason Reynolds and Ibram X.
The Wind Knows My Name. – Isabel Allende
De Pánama a Nueva York: La historia de Jacquelina. – Jacqueline Atkins
