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“…so, are you going to ride it?” Leer más
Sitting behind a dark wooden table, its surface covered with a thick patina of sweat, stale tobacco, beer, and calloused hands resting on it for years, I listened to loud explosions nearby. Leer más
Vodka Smugglers and Northern Winds Leer más
Riding a narrow dirt trail cutting across the famed Cocora Valley, I felt lost in thought. Leer más
The sun was setting as the ferry slowly sailed away from the European mainland and the last glimpses of Greece disappeared from view. Leer más
It’s hard to imagine being able to ride across a first world country covered in perfect pavement everywhere, and not use any of it. Leer más
