(A Different Kind of) Bike packing

Graced with layers of differently colored dirts, pulling off the Revelate bags exposing patches from hard to say when back. Hose it down, new wear marks showing bare steel, needs a repaint, and affording a chance to drill those bosses. Neglected repairs: rear shifter housing split at a bend exposing the cable so the last week with only front gear changes, and even those had to be done with a heel kick to get the granny, front derailleur sticking reluctant, every day thinking I only have n days so whatever. Some large part of the caliper on the front brake — that red dial and the steel bore it is attached to — had gone missing awhile ago. Luckily Avid evidently adds all that mass as decoration, so it wasn’t relevant for stopping the bike, more or less.

Now sun dry, Pugsley looking forlorn and discomfited without the luggage, hefting it about like a road bike. Pull off the parts that are so worn that there’s no point dragging them home: chainrings, chain, tires bald with tiny cuts I’d been monitoring, cracked bottle cages, dented aluminum bidons, manky grips, cogset. The cyclist on the hostal staff accepts the bits to see what can see reuse.

Then packing, twisting it apart absently automatically while also trapezing over emotions images recollected sensations. All positive including this instant, not a reed of sadness, couldn’t see it if it was there underfoot what with looking forward to walking those last few steps to my doorstep confidently in boots.