Lime green Tamaracks flashed by, almost changing in color as we passed through Montana’s fall landscape. A break in the trees revealed a rogue trail that had emerged under the radar. A lip, sculpted from a bank using logs to hold its figure, would propel riders into the air to a large step down landing. As we drove to the Whitefish Bike Retreat, that view reminded me of all the trails I created as a kid without permission. The responsibility free days of being a kid, were they over? Not at a pl