Goodbye, North Amerika!

Short Version:
We leave.

Long Version:
We drove 31,455 kilometers, through two provinces of Canada, two states of Mexico, and nine states of Amerika. We met incredible numbers of incredible people and rode our bikes so far that we lost count of the miles; through rain and snow and hail and wind and sun, in forests and deserts, across mountains and plains, on rock and wood and dirt and mud and sand and snow. We saw canyons and weird rock formations, old mines, new cities, spiky plants. We drank beers tasty and not-so-much (but mainly tasty), and ate some seriously delicious foods.

In short, we've had a blast.

But it's cold now, in the wintery north, and the sun is shining on the beaches of Waiheke Island and Mount Maunganui, so - as Rancho Notorious once sang - we're heading south.

The Reaper is gone, driven away to its new home by the first people to come look at it. They looked, they listened to it and to us, they admired the graceful lines and subtle paintjob, the (freshly scrubbed and de-stained) tan velour upholstery, and they handed Nene a big wad of hundred-dollar bills before setting off into the gloom of yet another rainy winter's day in Vancouver. We didn't go so far as to shed little tears, but it was kind of weird and sad to watch someone else drive away in what had been our home for seven months and through uncounted adventures.

The bikes have been stripped and cleaned (with my sister's toothbrush - Hi Steph!) and bubble-wrapped for their long trans-Pacific journey. We couldn't bubble-wrap ourselves for it, though, and now find ourselves sitting in a flying tube, high above the ocean. Well, hopefully we're high above it; one of the cabin crew asked if we had cycle helmets because we didn't trust their driving (most of them were too bemused at the sight of the raccoon and moose headgear coming down the skybridge towards them to say anything much at all).

They've been feeding us Business Class wine despite our cattle-classness, which is very nice. Not sure if that's because of the raccoon/moose parade, or because we've told every Air NZ staffer who'll listen that it's our wedding anniversary. Either way, yum, and we wouldn't want to hit Auckland at 6am on a Tuesday without a hangover, would we?