Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
12
My Country
Tuesday, September 6, Garrison, Minnesota
A nd, lo, it is autumn.
This morning when I woke at five thirty, the temperature was thirty-six degrees and
it was damply foggy. Even though the sun burned the fog away by midmorning and the
mercury eventually rose into the sixties, I pedaled through lunch wearing leggings and
long-fingered gloves. This was something I had been looking forward to, riding as the
season changed, and the enterprise of traveling all day outdoors changed with it. With
the mornings brisk and the afternoons temperate, departing at dawn is no longer ideal.
You have to dress carefully, to keep your extremities warm and your body protected from
the cold wind, but not so bundled up as to overheat with exertion; when you sweat in
the cold, you shiver and stiffen every time you stop. My nose has a tendency to run, too.
Still, if you dress right, cool weather is great for biking, energizing. I had a splendid
Labor Day ride yesterday, taking advantage of Minnesota's network of state bike trails
and cruising sixty miles untroubled by traffic on a paved, woodsy path through a region
sprinkled with Paul Bunyan-iana. In every town center, it seems, there's an oversized
sculpture of a bearded, axe-wielding woodsman or a blue ox. I'm heading in the general
direction of Minneapolis.
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