Sticky rolls, cinnamon buns, call them what you will, I'm addicted. Many people need their morning cup of coffee. I crave sugar instead, usually in the form of a large glass of smooth orange juice, but I'm a sucker for the sweetness of sticky ribbons coated in subtle spice. Frosting or caramel, nuts or not, they are a perfect combination of butter, cinnamon, sugar and soft doughy goodness.
Living in Yosemite Valley, I have made a habit out of biking to Curry Village many mornings, racing the tourist rush at the coffee counter to score a $2 overly-sweetened but somehow most delicious cinnamon roll. This was a spring and summer filled with scrumptious cinnamon rolls on the road: indulging in the stacks piled pretty under glass and drizzled thick with caramel at the Garden Cafe in Mendocino; sampling locally-baked varieties at the farmers market in Squamish BC; remembering childhood Christmas mornings in New Hampshire when Dad would bake a half-dozen tin of quick-rise bites with icing for dipping... but my favorites are still those created by Morning Glory Bakery in Bar Harbor, Maine.
A lonely drive south from Squamish involved a quick surf session in Mendocino and my first skydive, in Lodi.
Six months on a rollercoaster road. A season of sweetness, a season of sadness.