688

Today my friend Jody and I went on a 17-mile mountain bike ride along Surveyor’s Ridge, and in spite of our attempts to go way too fast and pitch off cliffs we emerged from our expedition largely unscathed. The forecast called for anything from freezing temperatures to rain to snow, and while it was a brisk 38 degrees when we started at the trailhead, the day turned out to offer some perfect biking weather. We were treated to hardly a drop of rain, and the sun was even kind enough to make the occasional appearance.

The fall colors are in full swing, the oaks having completely yellowed and the maples absolutely on fire with the season. Despite some amazing overlooks along the trail, Mount Hood never shrugged off its cloak of clouds, so we had to imagine what the peak must look like all draped in fresh snow. I could just barely make out Cloud Cap, and it is obviously buried under at least a foot of snow at this point. This was not the weekend to go camping.

In other news, my neighbors moved out a week ago, but I swear that I am still hearing music, voices and other noise coming from downstairs. I think ghosts have moved in. Ghosts that flush the toilet.