Both Andrew and I have had a lot of experience avoiding cops. We knew too many people, all of them members of Antifa, who had quietly disappeared. They just weren’t there anymore. Vanished. No one dared to question authority about where the evaporated were. The ubiquitous party line was that the pandemic had eaten them alive, which was what would happen to you if you had the bad judgment to push it. Becoming the focus of cops was toxic. And lethal. We spent our first night on the road, on the bike, in the ruins of a building where the woods came in. It’s stunning how quickly nature wants its landscape back, and gets it. Fragility reaches out to wolves and islands. With the empty graineries of prophets and Achilles’ stones of salt.