Riding out the door

Growing up in the woods of Northern Michigan has let me ride out my front door as long as I can remember. When we were little the chase to catch my Dad was on as soon as we left the deck. It didn't stop until we got back to the same deck, muddy, out of breath, and Dad already cleaning off his bike. I think this is the main reason I love to ride so much and can't imagine ever having to load up my bike to ride. There is a rack on my car but it is normally used to get to the shop or a race, not for daily rides. Riders who live in more urban areas and have to drive to the trailhead have a lot of dedication in my book. Living right between to ski areas full of singletrack and all the road climbing you could want is the greatest training tool ever. A lot of people probably think the Mitt is not the mecca of riding and that is just fine. Out the front door I can ride singletrack for 3 hours, do 5 different century rides, and see 15 cars the entire time. Not too bad. If you are ever up this way look me up and I'll share some of it with you. When we roll back in the driveway the grill will fire up and we'll talk about how sweet we are. It's not the mountains or along the Pacific Coast but it's pretty damn fun. It doesn't matter where you ride, just how fun you make it. Tear it up. WB