Near Canada, eh...

 The moto tribe headed north last weekend after we  got smoked out of our planned trip to ride to Sun Valley from Jackson.  Literally, Sun Valley was on fire, so, we bailed north to where I grew up and had the most rocking weekend of hanging with my parents and doing nothing, absolutely nothing, but hammering moto all day long.  We found paradise in the form of outrageous single track, no crowds, and the best hospitality around!

Steve, stoked to get out of the truck on the first day after a bunch of hours staring at a windshield, up Independence Creek.

 Good ol Murfy, the welcoming committee.  

 Compared to home, North Idaho is like being in the tropics.  It is so lush and green up there still.  I almost forgot how amazing of a place I grew up in.

Weber Saddle, day 1, still 40 miles to go.