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@kvragu
And finally, dear reader, I have to close prematurely, as these things sometimes have to. I slept super well last night. Sky full of stars that would put my spotty face to shame 10 years ago, not much noise to get rattled by, and fatigue you'd need a prescription to emulate, all made for an unperturbed night. I didn't even bother to hide from the road, my only cover were the innocuousness of my bivy and the inattention of drivers. This used to make me nervous, but I don't think anyone forced to drive after midnight or around sunrise can be arsed to take time to stop and scold a potential weirdo sleeping outside. Especially if they know what sleeping in a bivy feels like. A bivy is not a camp, it is an unfortunate intermediary between moving over interesting places.
Anyway, I woke up glad and packed up with half an uncaffeinated brain willing to help. I couldn't find one of my shoes,but figured it would appear after I put away everything. Then everything was packed, and my shoe was still missing. My feelings were now mixed. I couldn't come up with a straightforward causal story as to where it may have gone after I took it off last night, so I just spent another hour looking around my spot. No game. I had lost my shoe.
If anyone has a good story about how foxes or badgers are attracted to sweaty chewable plastic or whatever, feel free to share, but I'm just baffled. I'm not a super light sleeper outside, but I feel like I'd hear an animal dragging something away right above my head. And why the shoe?? Why in general?
I weighed my options for a bit and decided to hop on the train to Ljubljana. I'm not limping over a huge hill to a bikeshop that might sell me a 100e spd shoe that I'll never wear again, only to grumpily ride some 150km. Had I been stranded, I'd have ziptied something to the pedal to create a platform, but I am on vacation, and cannot be arsed. Plus, I get to finally try the rinko bag that I carried all along.
Fin, I guess? Next up I guess probably fixie rando build up and some long test riding.
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