You And Me, And A Bottle Of Wine

Tomorrow morning, my best friend of the past two years, two hundred and thirty five days and I will be parting ways for good. She came into my life at a time when I had no one else, and stayed with me through every up and succeeding down along the way. She shared the fame when things went well and kept her chin up when no one cared to even watch. She put up with the travel, the long hours of winter, and the innumerable hours of pounding the trails from mountain pass to mountain pass. On those hypothermic days at 11,000 feet, it was her strength that carried me safely down the mountain. At the fifth hour in the 98* heat, she was there to drag me back to the car. On those moonlit nights at Gorham, when no one else cared for adventure, she stuck by me deep into the soggy forests of the Adirondacks to share in my favorite pastimes. I'll never forget her smooth titanium limbs as they glowed across the camp fire as we sat late into the night along the banks of Cascade Lake. No exchange of words was needed; I knew what she was thinking and visa versa. We had cruised the strip in Vegas and sipped cyctomax poolside, but there was no where we'd have rather been at that moment, then freezing our buts off at a dark and diminished camp site in upstate New York. She is the living definition of loyalty, and someone we can all learn from. Despite the many identity changes she has passed threw over the years, at heart, she's still the same sweet girl I've known from the word go. I've never known another girl like her, and I don't suppose I ever will. She's my Steve Prefontain; the type a rider only she’s once in a life time. Her name means successful, but Nala was so much more than that. She was a pioneer, an explorer, a friend. She was an Independent woman. And to say she will be missed, wouldn’t do the feeling justice.