I don’t need a calendar to tell me when fall’s here. I just look to my fingertips. On Aug. 29, just before 6 a.m., fall arrived for me when my fingertips told me my fingerless bicycle gloves wouldn’t cut it on the Mountain Division Trail as temperatures were a seasonally chilly 45-plus degrees.

So, I reached into the unzipped back pocket of my fluorescent yellow bicycle jacket and took out my hibernating long-fingered cycling gloves that just happened to find their way into that pouch as the first maples turned red.

(0) comments

Welcome to the discussion.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
PLEASE TURN OFF YOUR CAPS LOCK.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.