We have to drive because there’s too much snow on the ground for the bikes. It doesn’t improve Jasper’s mood to sit in a car with me for over an hour, driving out to a trucking depot in the Mozhaysky District. I put on my favorite song and he deliberately switches to the next one right when it gets to the best part. I spend the ride fantasizing how I could shut Jasper in a crate and nail it shut and ship it to Mongolia by the slowest route possible.
