Where The Road Lets Go
Baja, Mexico
A lone rider cutting the edge of the world. Salt air and sand under knobby tires, the ocean breathing slow and endless to the right, cliffs collapsing into soft, sun-bleached lines on the left. Tracks in the sand like unfinished sentences — proof someone passed through and didn’t stay.
It feels quiet but not calm. Wind in the helmet. Horizon blown out, almost unreal. A moment suspended between escape and arrival, where the road doesn’t exist and freedom is just throttle, shoreline, and time slipping away.