Real life interrupts being what they were, didn't get on the bike until 4:30, when the temperatures had already fallen back into the 50's and the clouds that rolled in were intermittently spitting a bit of rain. Just rode out to Bedford and back on the Minuteman (20 miles), with a headwind on the outbound leg, and patchy carpets of leaves and pine needles. Lots of folks were out, including some of the regulars: the young blind woman walking alone, the mysterious Persian gentleman who rides with a leafy tree branch protruding from his back-pack. People were wearing a lot more clothes than last week; in a few cases, this seemed like a shame, aesthetically, but was compensated for by a sighting of noteworthy fur-trimmed boots. There were also a few apparitions: the man on the fully-loaded Xtracycle belting out "My Favorite Things"; the Wheaten Terrier on a leash walking down-hill with a peculiar gait that kept his body rotated 45 degrees off his direction of travel; the big red-tailed hawk that swooped into the trail corridor at shoulder-level at Hartwell Ave, flew parallel to the rider ahead of me for 30 yards, then popped up to perch on a low tree branch.