After setting out from the Arctic Ocean, the number one question I was asked en route from Alaska to Argentina was: “How are you getting around the Darién Gap...
Rain dashed upon the glass and steel canyon-streets of London, drumming against the concrete walls that rose from the riverbank, high above the ancient...
“Time is a blur and I do not remember what I was before. For as long as I know, the day I came upon these untouched waters, was the day I began to live. For is not to love, to live?”