The Chain of Lakes on a September Afternoon

Minneapolis calls itself the City of Lakes, and for once a municipal nickname is underselling the product. The Chain of Lakes — Harriet, Calhoun (now Bde Maka Ska), Cedar, and Isles — forms a connected loop of paths, shoreline, and parkland that threads through the southwest neighborhoods like a circulatory system made of water and good intentions.

I start at Lake Harriet, where the bandshell faces the water and on summer evenings a full orchestra plays to an audience spread across the lawn on blankets. In September the concerts are over but the lake is at its best — the water dark blue and still, the maples along the shore firing their first salvos of orange, and the sailing dinghies leaning into a breeze that carries the scent of cut grass and approaching autumn.

The path connecting the lakes is paved and separated — walkers left, bikes right — with the kind of civic orderliness that outsiders mock and Minnesotans quietly enforce with raised eyebrows. The stretch between Harriet and Bde Maka Ska passes through a channel where turtles sun on fallen logs and great blue herons stand in the reeds with the intensity of philosophers who have reached a conclusion but aren't ready to share it.

Best season: September, unambiguously. The summer crowds have thinned, the light goes golden without the August humidity, and the trees are starting the show that will peak in October but is already good enough to make you pull over and stare. The full loop around all four lakes is about 13 miles — bikeable in an hour, walkable in a long, gorgeous afternoon.

What to bring: A bike (Nice Ride stations are everywhere), sunscreen, and the willingness to stop at the Lake Harriet Pavilion for a malt from the concession window, because eating ice cream next to a lake while the leaves change is what Minneapolis was designed to facilitate.