Look Bullwinkle, a message in a bottle!

We'd love to hear from you. We don't guarantee to respond, though...after all, we're really just one guy wandering around the countryside, catching a signal from the occasional unsecured wireless access point, or plugging in at some out-of-the-way internet cafe.

This is really easy: Open your email application, put info@bumalong.com in the To: line, fill out the rest of the stuff in your favorite way, and hit SEND

And, thanks so much for dropping me a line!

An Excerpt From

The Assignment

“Say it again, Ms. Preston. Michelle. Please!”

Mr. Burkhardt was obviously getting desperate. His face was trembling. A look of deep passion was fighting with the fiercest, sternest look Michelle had ever seen. She closed her eyes and reached down into a well of strength she hadn’t known she possessed. She opened her mouth. She said, “Yeah!”

The word came out with a deeply satisfying, dead-flat certainty. She opened her eyes. She and Mr. Burkhardt blinked at each other.

There was a scraping groan from the front of the car, and they both turned to look in time to see a large branch, from the sycamore tree against which they had stopped, slide slowly down the hood and disappear in front of the car.

“Woah,” Michelle said.

“Yeah,” David replied.

Out Of My Head

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