The bike has kept me sane these last six months, so I have mixed
emotions about packing it up and sending it home, away from the secret
city. I’d hope to have other sources of sanity when I get home, but
what am I going to do in the in-between time?

Friday night I broke down in a sudden fit of clarity and made a list,
with “clean bike” and “pack bike” down for Saturday and “mail bike”
for Sunday. The greatest accomplishments always wind down with a
whimper, yes? In this case, it was a frustrating 500-meter ride back
from the rec center to the tent. The rear wheel needs a little
attention: there’s a bump in the tire from the last time I put air in
it. it’s the kind of thing that makes a good fitness ride frustrating:
going bump-bump-bump down the road.

So last night I cleaned the whole vehicle, prying the clods of dirt
out of the bottom of the front fork, and reaching in with the old
toothbrush to wipe off the hubs. Then I packed it back into the box in
which it arrived, and I must have done it right because the axles push
into the exact same holes on the same sides of the box as they did
previously. Bamse and Peg went in as well, in the little box with the
tire gauge and 15 mm box wrench.

And this morning I took the box and a chair down to the post office to
mail it home. For some reason, it couldn’t go ‘Priority,’ so it ended
up costing $62 to mail, but the important thing is that it’s going
home at all, and with any luck I’ll get there before it does.