All that rain made my bones ache and my bike rust. As soon as the
weather cleared, I got on my bike and started for Honolulu. It was
time to send my bike home. On the way there, my shifting cable rusted through. In Kailua, me, and the kid working at the bike shop,
dismantled my bike and put it into a shipping box. I had to hitch hike with a huge box by my side to Honolulu. I felt ridiculous, but after shipping my bike out, I felt much better. I no longer had a bike, but I knew when I got home, it would be waiting for me. Mission accomplished, I stuck out my thumb and headed back up to Makaha.
Not too surprisingly, it stopped raining when I reached Makaha. Keaau had to be the best spot, weather-wise, to camp. Back on the park grass, I camped next to Bob, Eddy, and Rich. Apparently, they liked Keaau too. They had a welcome back party for me. We got drunk again. The big debate was whether my name had to be changed. It was decided that I would remain Bicycle Dave even though I no longer had my bicycle. Eddy and Rich hadn’t lost their dry sense of humor. Those guys were great if you needed a distraction, but after a few days back, I just wanted to be left alone (I suppose it didn’t help that the effects of the “big drunk” hadn’t totally worn off either). I didn’t have a permit, so I used that as my excuse to move down to Makua, or “beer can beach,” as it was now affectionately called.