Winter was coming. We could feel it in our bones and smell it in the air. Looking at the rainy forecast for the weekend we almost reconsidered. But we knew this might be our last chance, especially with the threat of a Covid-19 lockdowns. We knew we had made the right decision as soon as we hit the damp trails; the fall colors of Quebec’s maple trees never disappoint. It was like riding through an impressionist painting with dapples of reds and golds blanketing the trails. Three days of riding on the gravel roads and trails of the Eastern Town-ships would prove to help inspire us through the dark winter to come.