61 miles

I woke up and showered, put some lube on my chain, aired up my tires, and we hit the road. The weather has turned cold today, 55-65 degrees—windy and overcast. I wore pants, a long sleeve top and a rain jacket for most of the day, expecting rain, though we didn’t actually get hit with any. 

The cold was a nice relief from the last few days of brutal sun and heat, but I spent a good part of the early ride thinking about my warm sleeping bag. There was a subtle scent of wood smoke in the air, which was foggy, the colors soft and wet, and I just kept picturing a warm dry cozy cabin, like the one I remember Jean-Marc staying at in Eustis, Maine, or grandmaman’s camp in Canada, or that place I remember staying up in Grand Marais that one time. 

We made it to Little Yellowstone campground. I think we’re both tired from a long day of riding with pretty heavy side winds. I spotted a tick on my pant leg as I got into my tent. I hope there aren’t any more. Gross.