Short and sweet

Today was a typical autumn day: some sun, cool temperatures, a few clouds scraping the peaks of the Chugach range, and beautiful colors draping the mountains as the ground vegetation prepares to go dormant for the winter. All of this, of course, was enjoyed only through my office window, because by the time I got home for dinner it was raining sideways and an evening trail ride was out of the question.

But rather than fall into a funk, I decided to scroll through my iPhoto library and come up with a nice summer ride pic to post on the blog. The shot above was taken this summer during a ride on the Kenai Peninsula. Along with Adam and Pat, the riders seen here, I rode up the Lost Lake Trail outside Seward, passed through the cloud-shrouded high country, then made a fast, hairy and fun-as-hell descent of the Primrose Trail back to Pat's car. We followed it up with some appetizers and a beer at a little restaurant in Girdwood on the way back to Anchorage. It was the kind of ride that leaves you with fine summer memories to carry you through the cold, wet days of fall and winter.

Summer never lasts long enough, and I never feel like I've taken enough rides, but it wasn't a bad year: A brand-new, full-suspension bike to break in; a week in Fruita and Moab with my brother Matt in early May; a solid four-man team effort at the 24 Hours of Kincaid (a local race) in June; a long and thrilling trail ride and helmet-cam recording session with the IMBA Trail Care Crew in July; and a bunch of local trail rides from the Anchorage area to the Kenai Peninsula throughout the summer. Not to mention plenty of trail work on numerous nights and weekends for the past couple of months. Next year, we'll be riding Anchorage's first singletrack designed and built by and for mountain bikers.

If this damned rain ever lets up—or if it at least starts coordinating with my free time—there should be a few more trail rides between now and the first snowfall. But if not, I can't really complain. It was a pretty decent summer. I'm grateful to everyone who shared a good ride, showed me a new trail or told me a dirty joke to provide a little relief from the drudgery of swinging a Pulaski.

I can't way to do it again next year.