An avalanche of seasonal pleasure poured down on my head today. Yesterday it rained a little, which is no small miracle. It was chilly enough that night to switch over to the winter sleeping bag, for the first time since June. Then, in the morning, my little dog climbed up into bed and snuggled with me, for warmth presumably, for the first time in months.
A bit of dampness to the soil is great for mountain biking. My little dog and I had a rematch with the ridge we are camping on. Last time, I pedaled up 60% of it and pushed 40%. Today I pedaled 100%, with no standing up. I needed a windbreaker the whole way.
Here is a panning video of a gently descending, neighboring ridge, even grander and more noble than the one we biked up. Long-suffering readers know that I was fluttering my eyelashes over this ridge:
Coming back to camp I had occasion to bask in southern Idaho sunlight outside my trailer door -- normally I dread facing the door south. But at this time of year, the sun becomes something to celebrate:
No matter how many times I say it, there is nothing in this old world of ours that beats dry chilly air, a gentle breeze, and warm sunlight bathing your skin -- all at the same time.
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