My friend Duhane phoned tonight as I was packing for a bike trip. He sold me my new bike. The trip is its first real road test.

I told Du that I was packing pretty light. “Take the dresses out,” he said.

“How did you know?” I was laughing.

Apparently I packed two dresses years ago, when we’d biked through Albania. And with a similar rationale: I wanted to have them in Tirana, to frolic with friends.

Duhane also didn’t think I needed the soccer cleats. But they are coming for pick-up soccer (if I can in fact move at all after biking 230 km in two days). However, I have been persuaded to chuck the rubber boots.

Probably this little solo sejour, with last minute info gleaned from the internet, is ill advised. Although, if I’m willing to forgo O-town festivities, I could just take three days, camp in two provincial parks along the way, and have a relaxing trip.

The point is, after all, to clear my head, and get some summertime in.

And now I better get some sleep.

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