A southern gentleman passed my way last night. He was on his way out, biking from Portland to Kentucky. The household called him Brother John and he had a beard to match. He had been traveling for 3 years, hitchhiking across America and told me I was not far off with my idea of New Mexico.

We shared a couch and laughed together. In the morning I left at 7, while everyone was still asleep. Knowing that I'd probably never see him again put a slight smile on my face.