In Aramberri, there are guys on horseback who appear so comfortable on their mounts that may as well be standing or sitting in a chair. One is squatting in his saddle, wearing sharp, pointed shoes. He has an amazing-looking thin face with the subtlest, scraggly bit of beard and shoulder-length hair. I desperately want to take a picture, but his seriousness scares me away. Slowly he rises up to his feet, towering above my head, standing in the saddle on his horse. Then the music begins..
3.
I'm ascending a twisty mountain road on my underpowered bike, somewhere between Tehuantepec and San Cristobal. A semi truck with a light load is bearing down on me, clearly desperate to pass. There is an even slower pickup truck in front of me that I wouldn't mind passing myself. The semi blows past me on a curve, his trailer weaving back and forth, forcing me toward the road's edge where there's no shoulder, but 6-inch drop-off that would launch me into the bushes if my front wheel were to graze it. I hold the road and glare into his side-view mirror, gesturing at him with my free hand, the one that isn't gripping the throttle in a death vise. The mirror reveals his dark outline giving me a shrug.
4.
Eden. In one of the few pictures you find posted in any of these collected stories. This guy made me laugh harder than few ever have. I love you…and I don't even know you.
