A Lesson In Mental Health From Crosby Lake

A good day in the woods can meet the need of a week-long vacation. It saves money, too. When quiet tree-lined dirt trails are less than 10 miles from my house and I’ve got the mood to sweat before getting dirty, I get on the bike.

The trails aren’t really official (or even marked, for that matter). In the gorge at the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers, Crosby Lake sits in the flood plain. Among the sand and cottonwoods and herons are paved trails that succumb to swollen spring rivers every few years. The dirt paths used by fishermen and neighborhood teens are what we come for.

This was Audra’s first time on these trails with me. She picked up a new All-City Space Horse last month and we’ve been itching for a reason to give it a bath.

We spent an hour riding along the water and cruising through shoulder-high brush. Nettles were cured by cold beers and mosquitos didn’t like to keep up. I think I still have vine chunks on my rear derailleur. Now I’m writing this on a Sunday on the back end of a three-day weekend ready to plan our next ride through the sticks and mud.

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