We made it. We made it. We made it. Somehow I don’t feel the reality of it. We had to go back to the sign twice; the first time we forgot to get a picture of us together. The second time at the “end of the road” sign felt more real, yet… the trip isn’t over yet. But now we’ll be heading north.<\/p>\n
In the morning we road through the last of the Tierra del Fuego road, up into the mountains with excitement building. At the signposts entering Ushuaia we stopped for a victory moment, then realized we still weren’t quite<\/em> through.<\/p>\n Later, in the park, we visited the last post office, a tiny shop run by an aging old man who was carefully sweeping the floors when I entered. Out of the wind, the small stove warmed the wooden building, which jutted out over the bay. A placard inside with the distance to Alaska and a motorcycle silhouette seemed to perfect, and is now one of the few souvenirs of our PanAmerican Highway journey.<\/p>\n On the way back we stopped at a lake, looking out and eating a small picnic, our celebration. The past three years have been focused on this trip, and now, except for a small ride back up to Santiago for us to fly out, the trip is done.<\/p>\n Three years; in a way, almost six years have been focused on this, ever since my friend planted the seed of this crazy adventure. I’m grateful, and a little apprehensive. What’s next?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We made it. We made it. We made it. Somehow I don’t feel the reality of it. We had to go back to the sign twice; the first time we forgot to get a picture of us together. The second time at the “end of the road” sign felt more real, yet… the trip isn’t … <\/p>\n