It’s an early September morning in Bellingham, Washington state, USA. There’s only a hint of a sunrise; it’s more a subtle brightening of the low-hanging fog, as if Mother Nature is slowly turning up the knob on the earth’s dimmer lamp. Gusting wind dances through a mix of tall fir and alder trees as John Richardson begins his favourite morning ride, up a short, steep moto trail that leads to a logging road. The forest is dark and damp with the first signs of fall. Here in the Pacific Northwest, there could be either a week or a month of fine weather remaining before winter sets in.
“It really reminds me of home here, just a bit bigger,” John says. “The dirt, the green, the rolling hills, they’re really similar.”…
