Stumbling Through Wyoming

On the empty shoulder of westbound 1-80 I sensed the morning sun thawing my back as I perpetually

A Jungle Rider Attacks Europe

I saw two teenagers around the field. I didn’t bother to think much of them since I was

Appalachian Backroads

“Communism and homosexuality. It says it in the Bible. When you can’t tell a man from a woman.

Yugoslavia- Through The Dark Forest

“Caution, 18% Grade Ahead,” read the sign in German, a few miles before the Yugoslavian border. I stopped

Two Wheels Over the Sinai

Two women sitting in the shade under a canvas tarp saw me in the distance bicycling down the sandy road toward their solitary house. They were startled for a second, then quickly crossed their faces with white veils. Everything else they wore was black, not just black, but a thick black, a dense, choking black

Gods and Mortals in South India

I bicycled down the paved road into the center of the village, a cluster of twenty or so straw-thatched mud huts that lined both sides of the street. No one noticed me except the mustached little man who ran the teahouse. The rest of the town slept; nothing moved the midday tropical air but the

The Arkansas Accident

My head hurts. I’ll stop and sleep. Wait! I’m in the dirt. I have to get back on

Down the Spine of the Andes

Tio’s house was about a hundred miles from Cuzco, the center of the empire, now a popular tourist

In & Out of Hades- Central America

I was furious by the time the gun-carrying boy lifted the barrier and let me pass from Guatemala into El Salvador. His sinister smile flashed an incisor with a gold star embedded in it. I’d done everything wrong at the entry border, everything that put me on the wrong footing with all the border guards.

Near the Lions Roar (Tanzania)

He took me upstairs to the empty restaurant and showed me a wall with incredible large photographs—a montage of lions attacking people. One picture—I have no idea how such a fantastic shot could have been taken—showed a lion jumping up to a railway-car window and pulling a man through the window, the lion’s paws grabbing

East African Swamps

It was a stupid accident. I had taken the road for granted when my front wheel skipped over

The Hashish Trail (Morocco)

“Get your things together and come with us,” said the first gendarme in French. He was heavy, dark,

Climbing the high Road (Nepal)

It was not much of a place, just the typical anonymous frame-built village having nothing more than necessary

Chinese In A Bad Tone

Another man wearing a loose unbuttoned shirt was desperately trying to ask me a question. He asked in