Seasons come and go.
The bad winter we had is breaking up.
Our fat biking trips are ending.
After trying to ride to a Glacier and finding nothing but slushy lake,
we tried another place.
The access is slushy too.
The snow is gone.
Time is running.
Wind is blowing.
Swamps are the option this day.
Dead trees are standing, stubborn in the weather.
With the hope of getting alive.
Another season will come.
The cycle has to continue, it will come back.
The bike is away already, waiting for the next winter.
Just like the trees, waiting for another chance to come.
Bye Portage Valley,
thanks for making this dog smile :-3