I pounced on the good weather this afternoon, rolling out to Depot Park on the Rawland Nordavinden in a short-sleeve jersey and short pants. Numerous like-minded souls joined me on the Minuteman.
More people meant, as always, more complexity, and I rode past the aftermath of a bike-bike collision in Lexington. This happens far too often, and I'm convinced nobody is systematically monitoring it. As far as I can tell, there's no reporting requirement in this state, and no mechanism to support it. I suppose you could fill out a standard auto accident report, but what would happen to it after you turned it in?
Two different riders complimented me on the Rawland, asking questions about it, trying to understand just what it was. I've encountered this before: it's just different enough to tickle the imagination, but familiar enough to trigger lots of associations.
I had a good conversation with one of them, who had recently moved down from Vermont, and wasn't satisfied with the off-road riding opportunities he'd encountered here. I directed him to Estabrook Road; hope that works for him.
The Shawsheen River was looking its best, full of the blue of the sky rather than the brown of the mud.
At the Bedford Street crossing, an artist was doing a lovely job decorating a junction box. Public art, hurrah!
On many sections of the Minuteman, the yellow foliage of the Norway Maples was still holding sway, and the leaves were glowing in the low November sun.
The dry, clear air seemed to work against sunset colors, except for one squadron of cirrus clouds floating over Arlington Center.
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