TRAVERSE 7
EDITORIAL
Every year, adventurous riders travel to developing nations to explore and experience. And every year, many of them leave something behind, not memories or cultural exchange, but their old gear: scuffed helmets, threadbare jackets, and worn-out boots. Some do it out of convenience, others with a misguided sense of charity. But this practice, while cloaked in good intentions, does more harm than good.
Let’ s be clear: developing nations are not your donation bins.
When riders offload their used belongings onto communities in the Global South, it reinforces a troubling dynamic, one that positions locals as passive recipients of Western generosity rather than equals. This is not generosity; it’ s a form of ethical laziness. It absolves the traveller of responsibility while placing a new burden on the host community: to either use, dispose of, or awkwardly accept something they didn’ t ask for.
It also disrupts local economies. In many of these regions, small businesses thrive by selling gear, clothing, or offering repairs. When tourists leave behind free equipment, even if it’ s half-broken or outdated, it undercuts these local enterprises. What seems like a helpful gift can become an economic liability, undermining local livelihoods and eroding the value of locally made or sold products.
And what about the environment? In countries where waste management infrastructure is already stretched thin, that extra helmet doesn’ t just vanish, it becomes trash. Durable synthetic gear can linger in landfills for decades. In rural areas, it might be burned or dumped,
DROP THE DUMP!
polluting the land and air. Your retired riding boots weren’ t designed to decompose in the Sahara or the Andes.
Perhaps the most frustrating part of this trend is the assumption embedded in it: that people in developing countries want or need what we no longer value. It’ s patronising. It ignores culture, context, and real need. If something is too broken, too outdated, or too irrelevant for you to take home, why assume it holds value for someone else?
There are better ways to support communities you visit. Buy from local merchants. Donate to trusted NGOs that know what’ s actually needed. Work with tour companies or operations that can assess your gear and decide whether you should take your discarded gear home with you. Support social enterprises that hire and empower locals. And most importantly, treat the people you meet not as recipients of your leftovers but as equal participants in the travel experience.
Travel should be about connection, not condescension. So next time you’ re tempted to leave behind your old gear, ask yourself: is this really a gift, or just a convenient way to lighten your load?
If you want to give something meaningful, start with respect— and take your trash with you.
Leigh
TRAVERSE 7