Late Summer on Tuxedo

I went for a solo ride the other evening and was treated to a sprinkling of ruby-colored blueberry leaves among the usual proliferation of green. I was so happy and amped that fall is around the corner; beautiful long rides in crisp air, trail runs in a riot of color, dramatic weather with a tinge of melancholy. Pumping up the singletrack, I was starting to get that delighted, almost smug feeling about fall here on the East Coast. There are definitely times when I want to throw in the towel, pack up the '93 Camry, and head to the real mountains out west. This usually happens in the winter when I get letters forwarded to me from Delaney. But fall is the absolute best, almost painfully sweet time to live here. And it's coming soon. I know this because my smug east coast self was surprised by the increasingly early sunset and enjoyed a long pedal home in the dark.