Crossing Lines of Latitude
Moving South across a chunk of land is a magical thing. You witness so much change down these lines of latitude... weather, plants, animals, people and behavior. It's a male dominated region, where I started. There is this recognizable leather to the skin... thick facial hair, too, making eyes pierce beautifully with a sense of wild and carefulness. People look after one another in a way I haven't experienced before. Survival. Roadkill doesn't stick around as long up North. Every animal for itself. Survival. I remember the first piece of green crossing the tundra. The first wildflower, too. I survived the first 500 miles alone on my bike. Several thousand more to go.