Heinz Reflected in his Mirror
Moochin Photoman
Guy gets on a bicycle. Goes for a ride. Doesn’t stop. Forty-five years, he doesn’t stop…not for long. He rides across Europe. He rides through South America and Japan and Australia and Afghanistan and the U.S. He takes his bike and goes island-hopping in the South Pacific. Forty-five years since he left his home in Hövelhof, Germany. He’s still riding.
We’re not talking about a fancy bike. We’re talking about a heavy three-speed. A sturdy machine that will take a lot of damage, that doesn’t need a lot of repairs, that will carry him and 40-50 kilos of luggage, food and water wherever he wants to go. Africa. Greece. Costa Rica. He may have to walk the bike up the steeper hills, but that’s okay; he’s in no hurry.
People give him things. A tent. Food. Money. A bed for a couple of nights. He accepts them, then moves on. Nepal. Alaska. India. He doesn’t need much. Doesn’t ask for much. Life on a bicycle is necessarily simple.
Guy gets on a bike, goes a ride. Half a million kilometers. So far.
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