After waking suddenly without an alarm and grabbing my phone to check the time, I was up and scrambling to make it to the airport. I hurriedly shoved everything but my helmet back into my gear back, brushed my teeth, dressed, and bolted out the door for the rental car. Fortunately, the airport was only 18 minutes away, and I’d refueled the car the night before.

At the small Delta counter they took my bag, and I relaxed. Maybe 20 minutes later I was boarding the small plane to Minneapolis, my brain still fuzzy from the sudden jump from sleep.

We touched down less than an hour later at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport, which I can say with certainty is my favorite airport so far. I enjoyed some interesting shops while waiting for my next flight, sipping hot coffee.

Soon I was back in my comfortable first-class seat, using the 2 hour and 45 minute flight to wrap up some blog posts over breakfast.

There was no anxiety or eager anticipation during this flight, just a resigned sadness that comes at the end of a good trip or holiday. Seven days away and 304-plus miles suddenly seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye.

Ninety-five degree heat greeted me on the jetway, and there was nothing left but to collect my bag and drive home.

I’m sitting here now in my familiar home office, surrounded again by my cats. Tomorrow it’s back to phone calls, a couple hundred unread emails, and deadlines. I can feel the scenes of the last week slipping into memory, like a wisp of smoke trailing from an extinguished candle wick.

If I can possibly manage it, I intend to keep in touch with the friends I made on this trip, and I hope to ride again at next year’s MUP with the same great LMB gang. Thank you Jason, Scott, Terry, Matt, Travis, and Jerick for including me in all the fun, and for making this week absolutely wonderful.