Twenty-one years — enough time for a boy to grow into a backbone, and enough for a wilderness to grow stories. ARMADILLO's tire tracks have burned across scorching deserts and measured the biting cold of glaciers. We have set out at countless dawns and made camp at countless dusks; the roads we have traveled read like verses scattered across time, every line spelling the same word — the far horizon. And this time, we chose autumn, and headed north all the way, to Altay.

September in Changji carries the dry air peculiar to the northern foothills of the Tianshan Mountains. New faces came with anticipation, old friends with unspoken understanding. We gathered from every direction like a flock of migrating birds, drawn in this autumn by the same pull.

One must be fully prepared where one stands before deserving the infinite possibilities of the distance. And so came the first day's least romantic yet most indispensable words: vehicle inspection, supply replenishment, convoy formation, pre-departure briefing. At the welcome dinner, strangers warmed into friends over clinking glasses, and the story of the road ahead began to unfold in the warm glow of the fire.

On the second day, before dawn had fully broken, the convoy was already awake. It is the overlander's rule — leave early, not to rush, but to save the best light for the road. The lead vehicle moved out, the tail vehicle followed, and the formation flowed out of Changji like a river of steel — heading northeast.

Leaving the county town behind, the road turned wild. Camp must be built before sunset — an iron rule of the wilderness. So everyone sprang into action: parking, picking sites, organizing supplies... In less than an hour, a home had grown out of the wild.

As the first camp of this journey, it appears on no travel guide. It has no name, no coordinates, and by tomorrow it will be dismantled completely, leaving no trace. But in this moment, it is complete — with cookfire smoke, voices, hot water, and the aroma of a meal.

Altay's autumn is unfolding layer by layer, and our wheels keep rolling forward. We will continue our crossing to witness the most stirring autumn scenery of the northern frontier. And the story of ARMADILLO's twenty-first year on the road has only just begun.