I stood up, tightened my hood and looked for the penguins. They were gone. Only the pack ice rumbled toward the horizon. I walked toward my bike. It's hard to believe that two rubber tires laced together with spokes and rims--and attached to a metal frame could carry me from the Amazon Jungle, along the Great Wall of China, across 15,000 foot passes in the Andes, through the scorching Outback of Australia, across Europe, to Death Valley and on to where the bolt goes into the bottom of the globe. That simple machine lying in the frozen snow had taken me to far-flung places on this planet and it had allowed me magical moments beyond description. That moment with the penguins probably was the best it had ever done by me. I remounted it and turned toward the base.
The ride back didn't seem so cold.
Excerpt from: An Extreme Encounter: Antarctica by Frosty Wooldridge, Copies at 1 888 280 7715
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