Indian Summer

On a day which now seems like a lifetime ago, but was actually only last Friday, I rushed home from work, pumped up my almost entirely deflated road tires, threw my bike in my car, and drove up to Mt. Morris.

Summer was taking her final, gasping breaths for the year. Eighty degrees or so, partly sunny skies, and dry roads.

I rode up Hobbs Run Rd, and then back down when I saw that Bacon Run had been very recently tarred and chipped. Then I went down Big Shannon to Mile Climb, all the while pleading with the sun to stay in the sky a little longer. I accidentally went down Church Run Rd because Mt. Morris is a labyrinth. When I got down to the doberman (the minotaur?) who is one day going to rip free of his chains and rip my legs off of my body I realized my mistake. What's one more hill?! I turned around and went back up, then down Little Shannon, eventually back to my car at Rising Creek Bakery. I bought a loaf of salt-rising bread to take to my parents house, and bid adieu to pleasant weather.