August 24, 2014
Standing next to a cliff with fresh ice melt trickling into a stream, weaving between hundreds of animal skulls and pelts; the smell of the rot is overwhelming. I carefully, and respectfully, walk away from the site while never turning my back upon the site of ancient rituals and magic. A small group of Tibetans greet me and there is a community of three or four families living in permanent, mud packed structures. I watch her laughing to herself as she marches along the perimeter of a mad packed wall. Walking towards the stupa, she slips her hand into my palm. Closing her tiny, weather worn fingers around my hand and we look at each other and smile with a child-like gaze. No one is leading nor lagging; traveling together in unison and harmony; souls complementing one another. The touch reminds me I’m human, with all my insecurities and fears; overwhelmed with the innocence, imagination, and purity of the child’s love. We play with the horses, laugh under the prayer flags while inspecting and investigating everything that sparks our curiosity. She falls over with giggles after watching my attempt to milk the goats, even after her excellent hands-on instructions. She is flying around all of us, feet barely ever touching the ground, buzzing with energy and joy. Her brightness and warmth glows as intense as the last, and single ray of sunshine.

Standing next to a cliff with fresh ice melt trickling into a stream, weaving between hundreds of animal skulls and pelts; the smell of the rot is overwhelming. I carefully, and respectfully, walk away from the site while never turning my back upon the site of ancient rituals and magic. A small group of Tibetans greet me and there is a community of three or four families living in permanent, mud packed structures. I watch her laughing to herself as she marches along the perimeter of a mad packed wall. Walking towards the stupa, she slips her hand into my palm. Closing her tiny, weather worn fingers around my hand and we look at each other and smile with a child-like gaze. No one is leading nor lagging; traveling together in unison and harmony; souls complementing one another. The touch reminds me I’m human, with all my insecurities and fears; overwhelmed with the innocence, imagination, and purity of the child’s love. We play with the horses, laugh under the prayer flags while inspecting and investigating everything that sparks our curiosity. She falls over with giggles after watching my attempt to milk the goats, even after her excellent hands-on instructions. She is flying around all of us, feet barely ever touching the ground, buzzing with energy and joy. Her brightness and warmth glows as intense as the last, and single ray of sunshine.

August 10, 2014
Modern day society has no place for those of us who have no desire to be leaders and refuse to be simply led. There are a few places left on this earth that allows us curious wanderers and rejects of the world to be free and live anonymously to learn and develop our true self and accept one’s purest form of identity. We can only have one perfect relationship in life, and that’s with ourself; once we’ve learned to accept and love all our imperfections. Not enough love in the world these days, folks…to all my fellow loners, misfits, and dreamers…it’s time for a revolution of consciousness.

Modern day society has no place for those of us who have no desire to be leaders and refuse to be simply led. There are a few places left on this earth that allows us curious wanderers and rejects of the world to be free and live anonymously to learn and develop our true self and accept one’s purest form of identity. We can only have one perfect relationship in life, and that’s with ourself; once we’ve learned to accept and love all our imperfections. Not enough love in the world these days, folks…to all my fellow loners, misfits, and dreamers…it’s time for a revolution of consciousness.

August 5, 2014
"Just choose one, Moseman…both will you lead you somewhere". At a crossroads where I don’t have a legal permit to be, only 2 buses passing a day, 1 liter of water remaining, eating emergency food rations, and extended time at that altitude was causing horrendous physical effects, I was predicting my demise…you don’t have time to sit at a crossroads examining the paths to see which seems to show a history of more travel or kicking dirt around trying to forsee what will be at the end of each road. It’s not about the path we choose in life, it’s about making a choice and then cycling through with conviction, passion, dedication, free thought, and open heart. It’s not what route you choose that matters, it’s how you live through the journey that you felt was the "right"one at that moment. People say they are "lost", no, they aren’t…they have chosen not to choose…they haven’t yet begun their journey. How can you be lost in life when you aren’t even living? This ain’t the gospel…just the inner-ramblings of a long-distance-lunatic-cyclist on a saga with skies in the eyes and a fiery heart that rules my journey. 

"Just choose one, Moseman…both will you lead you somewhere". At a crossroads where I don’t have a legal permit to be, only 2 buses passing a day, 1 liter of water remaining, eating emergency food rations, and extended time at that altitude was causing horrendous physical effects, I was predicting my demise…you don’t have time to sit at a crossroads examining the paths to see which seems to show a history of more travel or kicking dirt around trying to forsee what will be at the end of each road. It’s not about the path we choose in life, it’s about making a choice and then cycling through with conviction, passion, dedication, free thought, and open heart. It’s not what route you choose that matters, it’s how you live through the journey that you felt was the "right"one at that moment. People say they are "lost", no, they aren’t…they have chosen not to choose…they haven’t yet begun their journey. How can you be lost in life when you aren’t even living? This ain’t the gospel…just the inner-ramblings of a long-distance-lunatic-cyclist on a saga with skies in the eyes and a fiery heart that rules my journey. 

August 3, 2014
Hours spent sitting along the banks of Namucuo, the highest (alpine) lake on Earth, watching the current bring the most crystal clear water to my feet. Complete silence except for a single heartbeat, the pulsing of my own blood, and the water gently rolling and crashing to accompany the beat of my own rhythm. No one around for as far as eyes could see, small schools of fish in the water, massive coal black ravens along the bank tending to themselves, and insects skimming across the surface. The waters and skies merging into one along the horizon, no longer able to differentiate between earth and the heavens. We are one and at the mercy of it all. 

Hours spent sitting along the banks of Namucuo, the highest (alpine) lake on Earth, watching the current bring the most crystal clear water to my feet. Complete silence except for a single heartbeat, the pulsing of my own blood, and the water gently rolling and crashing to accompany the beat of my own rhythm. No one around for as far as eyes could see, small schools of fish in the water, massive coal black ravens along the bank tending to themselves, and insects skimming across the surface. The waters and skies merging into one along the horizon, no longer able to differentiate between earth and the heavens. We are one and at the mercy of it all. 

July 22, 2014
Speaking to the neighbors during an evening stroll through the gardens along the edge of the Pamirs, before breaking fast for Ramadan.
In Tajikistan, you can encounter villages predominately of women and children, as many men are working out of the country such as in Russia. I’m not sure if there many other places I’ve felt so safe and welcomed, by all.
Earlier in the day, this older woman had insisted on giving me a bath. As I’m standing in the mud packed wash room, modestly with all my undergarments on, she insists I take EVERYTHING off and get in the tub. I’m always up for an adventure and experience and this surely was…and will never be forgotten.
Later the women, children, and I would dance in a room together and that evening I would share a room with her and the youngest boy in this photo.

Speaking to the neighbors during an evening stroll through the gardens along the edge of the Pamirs, before breaking fast for Ramadan.

In Tajikistan, you can encounter villages predominately of women and children, as many men are working out of the country such as in Russia. I’m not sure if there many other places I’ve felt so safe and welcomed, by all.

Earlier in the day, this older woman had insisted on giving me a bath. As I’m standing in the mud packed wash room, modestly with all my undergarments on, she insists I take EVERYTHING off and get in the tub. I’m always up for an adventure and experience and this surely was…and will never be forgotten.

Later the women, children, and I would dance in a room together and that evening I would share a room with her and the youngest boy in this photo.

June 24, 2014
Zorna stands next to her husband in a slum camp developed for garment workers near Dhaka, Bangladesh. February 2014
This young woman is approximately 25 years old and has resided here for the last 10 years. The young couple has one son together that lives with extended family in their hometown of Jamalpur-Sherpur. I was told that the two must reside in separate quarters of the camp, as men and women are separated to prevent problems from arising.
This portrait received an Honorable Mention from the 2014 Professional Women Photographers Open Call.

Zorna stands next to her husband in a slum camp developed for garment workers near Dhaka, Bangladesh. February 2014

This young woman is approximately 25 years old and has resided here for the last 10 years. The young couple has one son together that lives with extended family in their hometown of Jamalpur-Sherpur. I was told that the two must reside in separate quarters of the camp, as men and women are separated to prevent problems from arising.

This portrait received an Honorable Mention from the 2014 Professional Women Photographers Open Call.

April 13, 2014
A written piece and published images from Tibet were featured in the annual Brooks Bugle for 2014. You can download, and read the entire article at: http://issuu.com/brooksengland/docs/bugle-2014
www.wandercyclist.com

A written piece and published images from Tibet were featured in the annual Brooks Bugle for 2014. You can download, and read the entire article at: http://issuu.com/brooksengland/docs/bugle-2014

www.wandercyclist.com

June 25, 2013
Children in Tajikistan, one day after the civil war erupted in the Pamirs. July 24, 2012
My body was badly wounded from my near drowning and had been pushing my bike up a pass as the bolt on the seat post was stripped. I could barely walk, ride, let alone push a bicycle carrying 80kgs. I stopped here to have lunch, where they allowed me to nap for a couple of hours and to dry from the rain. The kids and I played for a little while until the adults ran them out so I could shut my eyes. I had slept on the stall of an old bazaar the night before…finally some rest.
The oldest boy comes to me as I’m leaving with his bicycle. His front tire is flat and I pump both tires up for him, leaving them all with smiles. I also gave him an old bike tire tube he could use for strapping things down with.
The people of Tajikistan are some of the warmest and welcoming folks I’ve encountered on my journeys. Allahu Akbar!

Children in Tajikistan, one day after the civil war erupted in the Pamirs. July 24, 2012

My body was badly wounded from my near drowning and had been pushing my bike up a pass as the bolt on the seat post was stripped. I could barely walk, ride, let alone push a bicycle carrying 80kgs. I stopped here to have lunch, where they allowed me to nap for a couple of hours and to dry from the rain. The kids and I played for a little while until the adults ran them out so I could shut my eyes. I had slept on the stall of an old bazaar the night before…finally some rest.

The oldest boy comes to me as I’m leaving with his bicycle. His front tire is flat and I pump both tires up for him, leaving them all with smiles. I also gave him an old bike tire tube he could use for strapping things down with.

The people of Tajikistan are some of the warmest and welcoming folks I’ve encountered on my journeys. Allahu Akbar!

August 6, 2012
Tajik women making bread to deep fry for a Ramadan feast. Taking during the fighting in Khorog…life continues as usual just 200km away. Tajikistan, 2012

Tajik women making bread to deep fry for a Ramadan feast. Taking during the fighting in Khorog…life continues as usual just 200km away. Tajikistan, 2012

July 16, 2012
Tibetan Sisters at Sunrise, near Namucuo, Tibet Autonomous Region 2011

Tibetan Sisters at Sunrise, near Namucuo, Tibet Autonomous Region 2011

July 11, 2012
Kazakh Shepherds, Assey Plateau (near Almaty) Kazakhstan 2012

Kazakh Shepherds, Assey Plateau (near Almaty) Kazakhstan 2012

June 23, 2012
Bukhara at Sunset

Bukhara at Sunset

April 27, 2012
Tibetans and their motorcycle, U-Tsang Tibet (TAR) September 2011 at 5200m altitude

Tibetans and their motorcycle, U-Tsang Tibet (TAR) September 2011 at 5200m altitude

January 15, 2012
23 year old Kazakh woman with wedding gifts. Near Balicun, Xinjiang. December 1 2011 

23 year old Kazakh woman with wedding gifts. Near Balicun, Xinjiang. December 1 2011 

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