We had driven more than 30,000 miles up to this point. We’d traveled for 14 months, through 12 countries on two continents and crossed the open sea. Still, traversing the imaginary line that divides the earth’s northern and southern hemispheres is about as anticlimactic a milestone as they come. Actually, on our first time across, I was sleeping in the passenger seat when Zach said, “I think we just crossed the equator.” “Can we come back tomorrow?” I pleaded groggily. I couldn’t be bothered to wake up for the momentous occasion.