And so it is, five weeks later, back on the horse that threw me, I retrace my path. This time, I ride alone. This time, I make it home. I’ve never really been the superstitious sort, but it seemed like the right way to spend my evening, after patching up the roadie. And so it is that I revisit the bayfront at sunset. There is no milestone in my physical recovery at five weeks. It is another week before I am permitted to begin leaning to chew again. I do not know when the remaining hardware will be removed from my face. Tomorrow, I will wake up little less swollen, little less slightly off-feeling, than I did today. But I will wake in my bed, not healed but still healing, back on the bike I love, looking ahead to the next adventure.