Ah, rain, blessed rain, has finally come to these parts after 170 days of sunshine. Though 170 days without rain isn’t unusual, we always celebrate the true end of summer when the mountains get their first dusting of snow.

Sally and I took advantage of the holiday to enjoy the newly improved traction on the wash singletracks which we have been riding ever since the El Dorado wildfire closed our summertime trails in the mountains.

The watershed of Mill Creek offers a mountain biker’s paradise with natural features to challenge riders of almost any skill level. As the trails dry out over the summer, they get increasingly difficult as the sand gets deep and loose wherever it has been churned up by motorcycles, horses, and do-gooders who remove rocks to sanitize the trail. Today, we felt invincible as we carved turns with new-found confidence, our knobbed tires hooking up flawlessly in the moist dirt.

Sally had been experiencing mild symptoms of a cold all week so we rode in masks and kept a safe distance between us. Climbing while emaskulated can be a little uncomfortable as the heavy breathing tends to make the mask wet in a short time, but it was cool enough that we could ignore the mild discomfort. We decided to forego the pleasure of a post-ride lunch on the patio until she was symptom free.

There’s nothing like the first ride of the season to dispel any lingering depression. The challenges of Covid appear manageable and the post-election problems seem surmountable. Let’s get on with enjoying this wonderful life!