The Labrador Highway is a living organism. Breathing, changing shape, conquering, evolving. Her skin is gravel, it moves, forms holes, washes out, needs to be continuously kept in line by graters and gravel trucks, or else, she would mutate certainly into the form she wants to be, The Labrador Wilderness. Lining the highway for over 1000 kilometers unbroken, the wild shrinks you, daunts you, manipulates you, does what it will with you. Gone are the comforts of medians, streetlights, painted lines and gravel. Nothing goes by this highway uneffected by it. We spent 2 solid days travelling from Baie-Commeau to Goose Bay; negotiating the massive potholes, loose turns, and sketchy logging truck near-misses. On our second day, an hour and a half and 120km in to our travel, the Hwy decided to kick us in the..
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