Bike-Minded People: Norma Ibarra

Photos by Celina Media Words by Danielle Baker

Fifteen years ago, a whistle blew, and chaos erupted on Mount Fromme. Wade’s Excellent Adventure was off—150 racers pushing off in a blur of cheers, laughter, and the crunch of tires on gravel. Some bikes creaked, begging for maintenance, but no one cared. In the middle of it all, one person stood out: Norma Ibarra. A fresh arrival from Mexico, covered in tattoos, and volunteering on the sidelines—she was impossible to miss.

At the time, Norma worked as a nanny for a family in North Vancouver—her ‘Canadian family,’ as she calls them. They encouraged her to immerse herself in the local culture by volunteering.

“I thought if I wanted to stay in Canada, I needed to make Canadian friends,” she says.

Living near the iconic North Shore mountains, she often saw mountain bikers passing by and became curious about the sport. A quick Google search led her to Endless Biking, a hub for mountain bike instruction and rentals, and without hesitation, she signed up for a course.

“I think most people who take the course have already been on trails, but I didn’t even have a bike,” Norma says.

Her first ride down Bobsled—a beginner and intermediate flow trail on Fromme was a shaky experience—her instructor kept reminding her to stay off the seat. But despite the rocky start, she was hooked. Determined to keep riding, she borrowed money from a friend and bought a Kona Tanuki for $1,100 from Cove Bikes.

The next step was to find a community within the sport. Norma began by volunteering at the MEC Bike Fest, where she learned about Wade’s Excellent Adventure and the North Shore Mountain Bike Association (NSMBA). With a background in marketing and social media, she quickly saw a gap—at an NSMBA trail day, while volunteers were busy hauling rocks and shaping trails, no one was documenting the work. Spotting an opportunity to contribute beyond physical labor, she picked up a camera and eventually set up NSMBA’s Instagram account, amplifying the voices and efforts of the mountain biking community.

As the children Norma cared for grew older and her nanny responsibilities lessened, she transitioned into a job at Endless Biking, further immersing herself in the local mountain bike community. Over the next three years, she attended Crankworx in Whistler, participated in a heli-drop, and traveled to various industry events.

When she left Endless Biking to pursue a scholarship for newcomers in digital communications at SFU, she planned to return after completing her program. However, her career path took an unexpected turn when she landed her dream job at Hootsuite and secured social media contracts with organizations like BC Bike Race, Destination BC, and Mountain Biking BC. These opportunities allowed her to transition into a full-time freelance career.

Although she remained connected to the mountain bike community, Norma gradually rode less after moving from the family’s home to East Vancouver, closer to her job. The move gave her independence, a new sense of freedom, and the chance to step out of her comfort zone. "I wanted to live on my own, step out of my comfort zone, and pay real rent," she says.

Her new home happened to be around the corner from Antisocial, a local skate shop owned by a woman. While Norma already had a skateboard, the steep hills of North Vancouver had made learning intimidating. Encouraged by the shop owner, she joined a Facebook group for women new to skating, opening the door to a new community.

Over the next two years, Norma broke her ankle twice, using the recovery time to shift her focus toward documenting skateboarding through photography. As her career in skateboarding photography took off, frequent travel left her with less and less time for mountain biking. It wasn’t until the pandemic that she reconnected with the sport, and this time, it felt different.

She joined a group ride with Colour the Trails, a more inclusive and supportive environment where riders were patient, and even the strongest waited for everyone. "The experience was different because I was riding with people who were also starting out—I didn’t feel intimidated," she says. "I felt safer, and I felt seen."

Reflecting on her early years in mountain biking, Norma realized she had been so eager to integrate into the community that, as a beginner, she ended up riding exclusively with industry professionals.

“I was so excited to meet everyone in the industry that I ended up riding with pros. I always felt like I was at the back of the pack—too slow, not fit enough. It was stressful. I had fun, but there was always this pressure in the back of my mind, this feeling of not being good enough. It triggered my insecurities every time.”

This shift in her experience extended beyond riding with professionals versus beginners—it became a deeper, more personal revelation about her place in the world. As an immigrant, Norma had spent much of her early years trying to fit in. “I was trying to be like everyone else when I first started, but when I came back to biking later, I realized I could just be myself,” she says. “As an immigrant, I just wanted to fit in, to be liked, and to make it work. It’s something I’ve come to understand more as I’ve grown.”

This cultural shift also shaped her decade-long career with Mountain Bike BC. When she first began, Norma didn’t feel she had much to contribute to the content she was asked to post. But today, she sees her role as an opportunity to help others like her feel welcomed into the sport. As the Digital Community Manager, she produces blog stories, takes photographs, manages social media, and writes newsletters to engage and inspire a diverse audience.

While documenting skateboarding, Norma noticed how mainstream media often focused solely on professional riders. She wanted to change that by highlighting the everyday skaters—trans people, women, people of color, Indigenous communities, and queer individuals. “I saw this huge gap, and I wanted to change that, so I’ve used my photography to highlight the people who love skating but often go unnoticed,” she explains. “Then I thought, ‘I can do the same thing in my role at Mountain Biking BC.’ I feel it’s my responsibility to use my privilege to push for change.”

Norma’s work is fueled by one powerful hope: that the stories she shares through Mountain Biking BC will inspire others to step beyond their comfort zones, try something new, and feel safe being exactly who they are.

When she first picked up mountain biking, it wasn’t just about learning a sport—it was about finding her place in Canada. She wanted to fit in, connect, and prove she belonged. She threw herself into the North Shore’s riding scene, keeping pace with industry pros and pushing her limits. But years later, when she returned to the sport through Colour the Trails, she realized something had shifted—not just in how she rode, but in how she saw herself. No longer striving to blend in, she found joy in riding on her own terms.

Now, she’s using her voice to create space for others who, like her, once felt like outsiders. Because for Norma, making an impact isn’t about doing it all—it’s about lifting others up, one story, one post, and one ride at a time.