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Machine

September 16, 2009

I had deemed it the all-nighter. We left the camp with water, drinks, snacks and jackets, in for the long haul, taking the turn toward the Playa on our bikes, sizzling with pent-up energy.

“It’s on,” I shouted over my shoulder. “I am a machine!”

“Machine!” echoed a guy riding in front of me, just before he disappeared into the crowds parting before us.

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