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I picked up the small RV camper I had parked in a garage a few blocks over and had the oil and fluids changed and the tires and wiper blades checked. We were leaving to drive to Albany as soon as he finished his workday.

In return for me going along with him, West agreed to test drive the newest prototypes I’d created to mass market, the Eaton Elite. The two bikes we were taking were the same except there were a couple of differences I wanted to compare so I could judge which changes needed to be made to the bike to make the Elite a high-performance machine that could be used in many types of competition.

I had a customer in Spain who was looking for a new bike, and I wanted to supply him the best model I could. We’d see how things worked out by the end of the trip.

The style of tires on each bike was different, one had cross-country knobby tires and the other had racing tires, though they were both quick-change tires for different riding conditions if one were to ride on both terrains. The tires were lightweight and could be inflated with a can of air. They could be attached to a backpack the rider was wearing and were valuable time savers in competitive races.

The seat type was different between the two bikes. One had a slim saddle like most racing bikes, but the other seat was built with more springs to adapt for trail use and offered more cushion for the tailbone, though it was a bit bulkier.

Each bike contained differently configured handlebars to see which worked better for the rider on a distance ride. One set was a carbon drop handlebar used for a more aerodynamic posture on the bike. The other set was a lightweight aluminum adjustable aero bar. My interest in the bars was from the standpoint of comfort for the rider.

The trip would be the perfect trial for the bikes. Based on our discussions while I was working on them with West observing, he was more than happy to be a part of it.

Speaking of which, what the hell was I going to do about my increasing attachment to Weston? I now made sure to see the man every afternoon and found myself excited when I noticed it was time for him to arrive at Eaton Cycles. I’d put off really analyzing what he meant to me. I’d yet to answer the question of how I viewed Weston and how far I wanted things to go between us.

Was he my protégé? Was I only trying to help him because I owed a debt to his father, or was it something else? For the life of me, I couldn’t come up with an answer.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late. I got into a traffic accident.” West pushed his bike down the alley where the camper was parked, loaded and ready to go.

Both bikes were already attached to the ladder on the back, and I’d put a duffel with clean clothes inside. A trip to the grocery store down the street for snacks, water, sports drinks, and a first-aid kit had rounded out what we’d need for the trip, but I had to be sure he was okay before we got on our way.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t look as if he’d been hurt, but I wanted to be sure.

“Yeah, I’m fine. A cab hit the back of my bike when I was delivering in the Financial District. I fell off.” He showed me the skinned knees with large bandages, and my heart flew into my throat.

“We can postpone the ride, West.”

His expression revealed alarm. Was he afraid I was going to quit helping him? “No. No, Bridges. I’ll be fine. I went to the MedStop, and they fixed me up. I have ointment and bandages to take care of it while we’re on the road.”

The idea of anything happening to him made me sick to my stomach, which I hadn’t expected. “Okay. Uh, are you sure you’re able to ride? Can I see your injuries?”

“I’ll show you later when I change the bandages. I’m ready to go if you are.” He gave me a grin, and I shrugged.

“I believe it’s best to drive up tonight. I’ve got us a spot at a campground near the trailhead to sleep tonight, and then we’ll start the ride in the morning. It’s three hundred miles and we have three days. Let’s see how it goes.”

“Thanks, Bridges. I’m fine, okay? I, uh, I can’t drive because I don’t have a license, but I’ll stay awake and talk to you so you don’t get sleepy.”

No license? I vaguely remembered Claude telling me about West getting into trouble years ago because of his lead foot. Obviously, it was a lot worse than I thought.

“Sure. Let’s get going. We should get to the campground in Albany around seven. We’ll stop somewhere and get dinner before we park for the night.”

West nodded. “I’m excited.”

I was too, but I was also freaking the fuck out. Being cooped up in the camper with him would be a test of my will.

We put his bike in the studio and his backpack in the camper as we climbed into the cab of the 2020 Winnebago View that I’d bought used in 2021. The former owner was an older gentleman who decided the excitement of life on the road was a lot less fun when being cooped up in the twenty-five-foot vehicle for long stretches of time with his wife. One trip to Niagara Falls, Canada, and he was ready to sell. I got it for a steal.

Once we had both used the restroom and were settled in the Winnebago, we were on the road.

“Does she have a name?” West asked as we fought the traffic to the interstate to head north.

“A name?” I wasn’t the kind of guy to name a vehicle.

“Yeah. I mean, I named my bike Essie... Eaton Essex. She takes care of me, and thanks to you, I’m learning to take care of her. The accident didn’t do any damage except to the back tire. I had a can of tube sealant and the bicycle cop who stopped had a can of air so I could get here, but by Monday, I might need to borrow a tire to get home.”

“You sure you’re okay? I don’t want you to be in agony as you ride. We can postpone this if you’d prefer.”

His face showed surprise. “No, please. I’ll be fine. I appreciate that you’ll take time away from your business to do this for me. I owe you so much, Bridges. I need to see how it is on the open road. I’m good at urban riding. I need to see how it is with rural riding. I haven’t done much of it, and eventually, I’ll need to do some mountain riding.”