Fall colors. We were sure we had missed them. With our cycling trip extending well into the second week of October, it seemed unlikely that we’d see the North Shore in all its splendor. But we were wrong.
For the final two miles of our trip home, Rich turned down Seven Bridges Road. There we could see that Lake Superior had sheltered at least some parts of the Northland. Winding back and forth across Amity Creek on the narrow road, the trees were cloaked in color. Even with the red maples having finished, the yellows and golds were a brilliant contrast against the pure blue sky. A true welcome home present.
As soon as we schlepped our gear into the house, I headed right back out again – on my bike, of course, heading straight up the Shore. Admittedly, the leaves were past prime, but they were still the core element of that quintessential fall day. To complete the experience, it was cool and crisp with a bit of nip in the air. The lake reflected the deep blue of the sky.
Cruising alongside Lake Superior was a cyclist’s paradise. Wide shoulders, mostly smooth pavement, minimal traffic and little wind. Exactly the conditions we hoped for each day of our cycling trip. Add to that stunning coastal views, and there is little left to improve on the experience. Indeed, we live in a beautiful area, with all this right on our doorstep.
I’d have to say, that the scenery
rivaled that which we just spent a month inspecting from our bikes. It was still worth traveling across the country to cycle through new territory. But it also brings home the knowledge that we have it good, right here.
Thanks, fall, for waiting for us.






We’ve seen the thickets of thimble berries growing in “our woods” every summer. And each year the birds, critters and perhaps other berry lovers have gotten to them first. This year appears to be a bumper crop. Loads of big red berries hang from the branches, with many more promising to follow. We promised ourselves that this year we’d pick them and make jam.
A few days ago it became clear that the time was NOW. At least for the first round of picking. Each bush had one or more perfectly ripe berries. So Rich and I ventured out to see what we could gather. Although it meant only a berry here and a berry there, the bushes were plentiful enough to make it a worthwhile hunt. Moving across the road, we reaped even more berries – enough to come up with 4 1/2 cups between us. And judging by the remaining unripe berries, we could easily duplicate that several times if we keep diligent watch.
I had to hunt down a recipe for jam, and was surprised just how simple it was. Only two ingredients in equal quantities – thimble berries and sugar. It also warned that cleaning the berries was as time consuming as picking them. I won’t argue that point. And picking was a lot more fun.
reacquainted myself with the process. Then I dug in. (Notice “we” became “I” at this point…) Soon the house was redolent with sweet berry smell as the mixture simmered on the stove. It wasn’t long before it began to thicken and resemble jam, and filled more jars than I expected.
proceeded to cross over the bay on the bridge. The bridge was wonderfully bicycle-friendly, with a dedicated bike lane that was well protected from traffic. As luck would have it, we also had a scenic view of the St. Louis River basin on our side of the bridge. With the rising sun behind us and calm waters in the bay, we had lovely views of the railway bridge and surrounding waterway.

























