What's left of the carcass will be full ofdogwalker eggs."The dogwalker hooted. Dogwalkers rose up in the sagebrush all around Jasand Melissa. Big one..., little ones, medium sized ones.A feathered lizard scrambled toward them on four legs. It looked like anoversized iguana. Or a small dragon.The nearest dogwalker picked the lizard up. Hooted at it. Set it down,facing the other direction.Jas gibbered nervously."I think we're safe," Melissa said. "Stay on the trail." Right. What do dogwalkers. Hug her.It was Bessie!Oh sure, the wheels shone like new, because they were new, or at least rebuilt. She had new fenders, freshly repainted, as were the chain guard and the front fork. But the frame -- her skeleton, her very bones -- was the same frame. The sprocket with its crank arms and pedals -- her heart -- were the same. So were her arms, the distinctively graceful handlebars with the rise and spread of wings, complete with the little Sturmey Archer shifter within reach of my right thumb. More

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