My father lives in a cabin about a mile down a township off of route 144. I met up with him at the Sunset West (a little diner on the edge of Pleasant Gap) for a Saturday breakfast with a few of the guys that come up from Philly to hunt deer on his property. They drive up every year at this time to help cut wood for the winter, get the last of the hay into the barn, and shut down the nursery. In return, he lets them hunt for a few days in late November.
Fall with dad has a way of making me feel as though I never left Central Pa. It could be the smell of the greenhouses or the saw dust and exhaust from a two stroke engine. Maybe it's the cheap lager that he keeps in the bunk room refrigerator, I don't know, but it adds to the magic of autumn.
This is my favorite time of year and I'm ashamed to say that I haven't ventured out on the bike in nearly three weeks. Days like last Saturday were perfect, and we had a string of them here in October. I've missed riding, but is sure has been nice to catch up with my father after a long summer.