Bam.

Tara was in India, sweating a lot and showering very little. Now she's back, which means two of many glorious things: we can once again hear the reverberating sound of her stupendous laughter, as experienced yesterday at a gal meeting in Allaire; I now have a cross bike, and her name is Bambi. Bam for short. I cannot begin to relate how enthused I am about the two of these things, only because they behold so much more than meets the eye. They translate into a lot more than I could possibly reveal here, on the interweb. For starters, Tara is psyched about cross season. I am psyched about cross season. Big E is also, how strange yet wonderful, inquisitively psyched about some possible cross races. The two of us, E and I that is, did the NJ State Championships together last year, her only cx race and she kicked it, and now she's talking all starry-eyed and crazy eights about getting a cross bike. And let's not forget, last year I raced the cx season with Sula, using borrowed skinny wheels; when I was "banned" from using her, a la USGP, I was fortunate enough to have been lent a ss cross bike (shouts to Keith and Johan). Now I have one that I own, which I could not be more thankful for. Well because healthy relationships tend to arise from a mutual understanding and sharing of, and respect for, love and life, I cannot really call what we have an "ownership." We're better than that.

In a new quest to build our fated alliance, Bam and I (plus Tara and E) embarked on our maiden voyage, through the twisting sands and dirt-red roots of Allaire, coiling through an endless underbrush of sun and autumn air. Looking back, it was infinite.