A short field of self-dispaly, so let's get going. Maybe this is the place where i should recount the shaping moment in my life, which made me sit on the saddle of a steel-frame-bike since earliest childhood. Maybe this is the place, where is should tell about the deeply moving, philosophical epiphanies, which came to me while shifting from the middle sprocket to the big sprocket, having a cool breeze of air around the nose. And maybe this is the place, where i should mention the great revolutionary potential, if just every human being would stop using poluting cars and planes and would feel the freedom of a fully packed expedition bike instead, so this world could be a better one. Maybe this is the place, where i should emphasise the sporty enthusiasm, which make me race up and down the passes, always with one eye on the speedometer and the forcing urge being even faster this time.

It is all this and simultaneously none. It is all of this at the same time none of it by itself alone. There has been no shaping event in my life, philosophical enlightements are better won on the warm seat of a toilet - maybe even better -  unfortunately revolution will need a bit more than the enthusiasm of denying the use of fossile fuels and individual traffic and certainly a bit of sporty ambition is always accompanying, despite all theoretical critics on the principles of performance and achievement.

With my ass in the saddle the world won't turn into a better place, certainly it won't turn into a worse place either. And after all this is about cycling, so why all this pathos. I just like cycling, travelling, getting in touch with new people and places, exploring new landscapes and marveling into the endlessness of the night. And when - anywhere in the world - a branch bank looses its windows or a nazi car is burning down, i just slightly smile and continue...