Three matching black linework mountain tattoos with latitude and longitude text sit on the inner forearms of three people.

Matching mountain and coordinates forearm tattoos

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Three forearms are shown side by side, each with the same black outline of three mountain peaks above two lines of coordinates in a typewriter-style font. The linework is clean and solid with little shading, and the tattoos are black on skin tone with no colour. The arms are arranged close together in the frame, so the three matching designs sit at the centre of the composition.

Fine line Forearm Mountain Coordinates Lettering Matching tattoo Number

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pin had gone green at the head, but the numbers scratched into its brass were still legible when Marion Teague held the lamp close. You were the one who had to read them aloud, because your eyes were sharpest and her hands were shaking from the climb. Fifty-five degrees, six minutes, forty seconds north. A hundred and twenty-eight west, one minute, fifty-six seconds. Tomas copied them onto the back of a seed packet so the wind coming off the col wouldn't take them.

Keep reading

Behind you, Cold Harbour was a scatter of woodsmoke and tin roofs at the edge of the spruce, and the village dogs had long since stopped barking. The old surveyors had fixed the valley on paper using these peaks, three points in a line that everyone in the district still trusted more than their own eyes. But the chart had been wrong for thirty years, and nobody wanted to say so until a stranger's dog dug a tin box out from under a boulder.

The note inside was signed with three sets of initials and a date in 1961. It said the middle peak was never where the chart put it, that they had walked towards it for four days and it kept stepping one ridge further away. It asked whoever came next to stop walking and mark the ground where they stood. You had laughed when you read it aloud in the pub, and Marion hadn't laughed at all.

Now the pin was set, the seed packet was folded into the tin with a fresh page, and the three of you stood in a loose triangle while the light slid off the snow. Tomas said the mountains looked closer than they ever had. Marion said that was only because you finally knew where you were standing. You picked up the lamp and found, with a small shock, that the ridge you had chased all your life was exactly where it had always been.