It’s just a bike. I mean, it is beautiful to look at. And wow, the feeling of riding it! And it has my name on it (literally). And every time I stare at it, I marvel at Dario’s heart and soul and creativity when I discover a new nugget in his mad yet remarkably subtle representation of Latin jazz on every piece of every tube. (Chad had told him I loved Latin jazz.) And every time I touch the frame, I think of Pietro and Jack (Dario’s magnificent wolf of a dog) whose hands (or paws) all touched that frame. And I remember spritzes and espressos, and trying so hard to understand Trentino simply to better bask in the spirit of the man who was spewing out colloquialisms beside me. Is it just a bike? It’s a life, it’s many intersecting lives. It’s art and science and play and spirit and joy. It is a metaphor for all that is right in this world. That’s what my bike is for me.