Keep it free!

Trail to Van Cott

There is a system of trails in the foothills near where I live. Really, I’m pretty sure there is just one official trail, but there are countless spurs, social trails, old double-tracks and jeep roads that lead up and over ridges, down steep gullies, traverse rocky hillsides and lead up and down the various peaks. Most of these are the most direct route, very steep, often loose and, if they get well used, sometimes closer to trenches than trails. The

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Bald Mountains and Fish Creeks

Twin Peaks

I take pride in being a great passenger on road trips. I entertain, provide snacks, select playlists, look up facts on the internet (when there is cell coverage), pet the bossy snout of Mack, and most importantly, I navigate. 90% of the time we have only a general idea of where we are going, so an atlas is the best way to find our next spot. My job is locating creeks, dirt roads, trails, potential camp spots, lunch spots, dog

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Secret Spots

Riding near Stanley, ID

We all know the joy in finding a new, amazing place to ride/camp/fish, especially if that place is one that you discovered on your own, that is only marginally mentioned on the internet, that the shop guys don’t have the info on, that isn’t on any app. My first instinct is to tell all my favorite friends about this most awesome place we found!! Because, really, when you are bursting with excitement, it is natural to want to share. Recently

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Five reasons why you might want to stay inside.

condon motel

Spending 10 days on the road, camping, fishing, mountain biking and trail running might sound like a pretty fun vacation (and it is!!), but as I try not to scratch the bug bites on my arms, and scabs are starting to itch as scratches heal, I realize this style of vacation is not for everyone. Bugs. I was outside for most of 10 days and my arms, legs, hands, back, belly, head and ears are covered with an assortment of

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Images From A Mountain Bike Ride

drawing by Laurel Hunter

The missing tooth in the mouth of the rider who passed me at the rock garden. He didn’t clear it either, but “life goes on,” he said. He was wearing a blaze orange vest, unzipped, flapping at his sides as he pedaled away. This same rider on the trail, riding up “Gravity Hill.” The spring green sloping ridge was backed by a wall of steel blue rain clouds. The orange vest a vivid, slow moving dot against the sky. A

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