If I had to express my relationship with my in-laws' Idaho vacation home using Facebook terms, "It's complicated" would fit perfectly. The lakes and rolling mountains of the Idaho panhandle are gorgeous and my family enjoys going there. My boys, in particular, love all the boy things they can do out in the woods with grandma and their two boy cousins from out of state. My wife adores her own cousins, all six of whom can be reliably found in Idaho each summer, even though some are scattered around the country the rest of the year. We attended the 50th anniversary of Shannon's de facto aunt and uncle, a joyous event for two wonderful people. Really, all of Shannon's family are delightful.
But from my perspective, this "vacation" has a Groundhog's Day feel to it. We go to the same place every year. I'm not sure I'd want to go to my (imaginary) uncle's condo overlooking Wrigley Field every year, let alone a remote destination where it's easier to find ammo than a reliable cell signal. This would be some people's ideal vacation destination (hunting, fishing, shooting, lake activities, campfires), but it's not mine. As road trips from Seattle go, without the family factor we'd go to Vancouver or the Oregon Coast much more often than Northern Idaho (we haven't been to either since our annual trips to Idaho started seven years ago). And the ownership agreement that protects the in-law family's interests all too casually draws a line between my wife and me, furthering my sense of isolation in the Idaho wilderness.
We would have ridden again, but weather and family activities got in the way. Next time we go a new bike trail will be open and we'll make sure to get the second ride in. There's always a next time, but with biking, at least there's a little more for me to look forward to.