I have mixed feelings about the fall season. Outdoor music festivals (my cocaine) have come to a close, and I start to go into withdrawal. Things are starting to turn brown, and the prospect of putting the bikes into storage is beginning to loom. Perhaps I still harbor gloomy emotional memories of returning to school after a fun summer; I hated most of high school. However, a long afternoon ride in the country reminded me, today, that the fall is my favorite season to ride. It was a balmy, breezy day, and the leaves were skittering across the road in front of the bike. In the town of Pompey, I stopped at a homestead on a quiet side road, where the landowner was out in his yard, tinkering with his mower. I asked if I could take a picture of my bike in front of his old silo and superb sumac. At first I thought his response was one of disbelief, but then he smiled, and mentioned that he had an old bike behind the house. Steve, he offered with with a handshake, noted that when his father bought the land in 1949, and it had a large barn attached, but it burned down the day they moved in. They never did discover the source of the fire. He went on to say, proudly, that only a couple months ago, he found out that the small rooms in the basement of his early 1800's farmhouse were used in the Underground Railroad. In Delphi Falls, I stopped at a nicely maintained Meeting House that was built in 1815. It had this historical marker; I followed a county road that I had never been down before in the town of Elbridge, and just as I thought that the tarvia conditions were beginning to get too primitive for my old bike, I came upon these stone buildings. Investigating to get the permission of the owner to take a few pictures, I discovered that he restored old bikes, and he had a cool RD400 to show me, along with many others. This was, in fact, one of the finest local rides I can remember taking. There was a moment when I thought, "O.K., if I die right now, it will be just fine."