There are few success stories quite as impressive, or as impactful, as Commons. Growing up, my dad used to take my brother and me mountain biking behind the old state hospital. There were a few solid trails, partially bushwhacked, and some that had a strange tendency to disappear for a season or two, depending on the amount of foot traffic they received.

Most summers, we could ride for an hour or two without seeing another person. The barns and buildings that now comprise the Village at Grand Traverse Commons were shells with barred windows, graffiti and plywood. It was a forgotten part of Traverse City, and while we enjoyed riding back there, it always seemed like a waste, even to pre-teens with Tour de France (or NFL, either way) aspirations and little concept of economic or community d

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