fellow walkers.

I never ride muddy trails. I don’t. There is no point in shitting were I play, let alone shitting where anyone may play, that is not to say I never took a leak outside and in France I think everyone does, but I am in Ann Arbor today. So I am riding a local loop (a huge mishmash of interconnected trails) and come out on a trail exit…there is this sign and a ton of branches in the way.

I get off my bike to and begin clearing the way. A woman sticks her head out of her house and starts screaming at me. Then she comes out in full. Judging from her bark I am waiting for a gun. I begin to talk smack back and realize what good it is going to do. She does not know how to respond to my knowledge of trail erosion and maintenance other than that she was a "framers daughter" and yet somehow acknowledges bikes are allowed on the trail which adds to her duality of nonsense. I leave no trace. I don’t need a fight. I’ll come back another day or under the stealth of night. Peace. Dan k.

wander wonder.

Look out. Loop wonders. Wanders. It never ceases to amaze me the amount of beauty cities can have. In Ann Arbor there is about 30 miles of trail, you wouldn’t know it just by looking. You know it by exploring. It is not what you can give to your city, but what your city can give to you. And you might be sitting reading this blog, but it is better than talking shit about racing. I have never been nor will I be a sarcastic mofo. Yeah I want you to race, but I must know where I have come from, where I am going with a tad bit of exploration if it is to be a tasty cake. Look out. Wonders. 30 Miles of riding, training in my own backyard. It is time to reinvent myself, keeping the core, never forgetting about the past. 30 miles of loving in my backyard. Yeah, Michigan has its downs, but finding beauty in the valleys, as in a recession is punk. I said it and it is any surprise, let’s just say it and get it over with and get onto business. We are in a recession. When it is time to shine, it will be shown, until then I think I will get a tat of a beer logo on my leg and talk smack…on second thought…I’ll just shut up.

I was riding days ago and I ran into whom…an older dude, he looked a bit disheveled. It was clear he had fallen, crooked helmet, some scraps and bent over inspecting his bike. His chain was broken. I thought, just ride past. The sun was setting and I was just getting started on a 3 hour tour. I stop just after passing him slightly. Some small talk. I ask where he lives; he is troubled and takes me up on my offer to push him home. Up and down the hills here in Ann Arbor, away from my local loop wonder... I say to myself, “self, what is it going to hurt your pushing this guy home; there are more days to train.” He was on a Trek. Riding a Trek and Fisher is like a brother hood, the fact that is a mountain bike is deeper than any road camaraderie could ever reach. Mountain bikers help one another out and prefer adventure over exercise as a whole. I would have offered even if the guy was on a Specialized but would have lectured him the whole time about their crappy manufacturing practices. As I am pushing this guy home, (he has no chain, I have no tools on local loops) turns out this guy’s name is Ron Olson, and although I never met him, yet I was instrumental in the sale of his bike through my best friend Shawn. Ron is the head or chief of Michigan Parks and Recreation in Michigan or the DNR. And now I am pushing him home rather than training and that is punk, albeit first, last or DNF in a race, it is early in the year.

Ron goes to one of his DNR parks this past weekend and does a mountain bike race. He f’in loved it. He loves the people. He loves the sport. If the head of DNR loves the stuff I love to do at his parks, that is the punkest. More bikes. More trails. I think I will look him up at least once a month for a ride, turns out he lives a half mile form my house. I’d love to trade a second place for 10 more trails. As far as racing, like I said it is early. How did you shine today? Look out. Wander. Wonder. In your own backyard.

ha. hell. humor. hellrider style.

The following is pure fiction. I have been ugly and slow my whole life. I am far from pretty.
The following is not fiction. I am not the guy in the photo on the right. He is my friend Jason, apparently he is metro-sexual, hence the water with a "M'. However we both are convinced that biking is a way of life. With that said, Act 1.
-Jay was a Territory Representative for Trek Bikes.
-The 29ercrew is a team of riders across the country that ride Fisher 29er’s.
-Travis at Trek manages the team.
-Dan Kotwicki, that is me, a team rider for the 29er crew who races but did not race the first couple of races.
-John B is a mad owner of Trek, who keeps it real by stoking the gang. He is about the only Republican I like.
Imagine the pressure to produce sales despite the pure love of cycling-the two forces are opposed to a degree. I mean we all got bills to pay. The following is a make believe email for the love of it all in a mad corporate world.
-----Original Message-----
From: John B <mailto:john_bxxx@trekbikes.com>
To: Jay M <mailto:jay_mxxx@trekbikes.com >
CC: Travis O <mailto:travis_oxxx@trekbikes.com>
Sent: Sun, 20 Apr 2008 16:06
Subject: What is with this Kotwicki character?

I noticed that there is only one member of the 29er Crew who hasn't raced yet -- Dan Kotwicki from Ann Arbor, Michigan. What's the situation with this guy? I can see he clearly has good looks, a great personality and several of our Michigan dealers indicate that he is perhaps the single biggest factor in keeping Fisher 29er sales up during the last quarter. However, there have been two races now in Michigan, one race in the NUE series and Sea Otter is now complete. He hasn't attended or raced in one of these events.

Gentlemen, can I ask you -- are we in the habit now of comping and giving bro deals on bikes to anybody off the street? I'll remind you per our discussion at the last sales meeting, now that we have cut the Lemond brand free, we are all going to have to work harder than ever to make our numbers. Trek Bicycle Corporation is one of a few American manufacturing companies holding up this fragile economy. We can't afford to have even one wrench left in the machine. Please address this situation a.s.a.p.

J.B.

p.s. Moncel, Armstrong was supposed to make the Afghani Ladies WSD Yak Butter Tea & Bike Fitting Symposium in Kabul this week, but he is going to be tied up at some running race in Boston. So, I'm going to need you on the first plane out tomorrow. We've drop-shipped 30 of the new Top Fuel WSD Mixte Frames to our dealer Bike & Buzkashi in SW Kabul. Ken Derrico will be there to set up the bikes. Be mindful that we've shipped the new mixte style because the Afghani ladies have issues with their burkas riding up on the top tubes of the regular frames. It was a real problem with dealers there last year. Apparently, two customers of a dealer in Kandahar province were stoned by the Taliban when their burkas rode up on the Equinox Tri bike model during the Eid al Adha Festival Ladies Tri and Mutton Roast, exposing a portion of their ankles.

so the truth is known.

Why we live. The days. The nights. The longer days. Second year for “advanced daylight savings time” here in the mid-west-USA. It is really weird daylight still @ 8 PM in a cool if not cold March. Riding the night is grand, but riding the long sunny days is so sweet. The blending of the two as the sun comes up or as it hits the horizon hours later is reason for a toast. The spring is here. I don the helmet, I mount my steed and with the sun raining on me at a mere 33 degrees at 5 PM I ride nice subtle pace, smiling and waving at all the passersby wheeled or walking, thinking of how simultaneously stoked, lucky and grateful I am to be riding any bike on a Sunday afternoon for as long as I want…until the MP3 batteries go dead, until the sun hits the horizon, I think. I think I’ll do it again tomorrow. Why we live. So the truth is known as we embark upon new endeavors.

oŭ. my. eye.

Sold a 2008 Trek Fuel EX 9 to one of my brothers. Friends don’t let friends ride junk. I laughed with old man winter while I slacked on a 40 mile bike ride in the bitter cold. I visited another brother in the hospital. I found a good friend is moving away to Madison. From high to low. You never know the hand you are going to be dealt. You just do it all over again the next day, the next year. And if needed I save the blindfold for the bedroom while I choose to go through life with eyes wide open and down the trails with eyes wide shut. It works better that way sometimes. If you looked before you “________” you may not have done it. Remember when you learned how to ride a bike for the first time? I looked back after coasting for bout’ 10 feet after being pushed from my now rather messed up father. At five there is little that is messed up or at least little that you can remember which is messed up. I hear cupid, god and the devil all speaking to me at once, they say, “Life is short,” then they lead on into some sort of fire and brimstone, garden of temptation arrow word war. All you can do is sit back and watch. Other days you look back at all that, you fall to the ground-there are no training wheels anymore. My dad was not there. He was never really there. My brothers, each one in their own special way now are my father. When they move on, it is always tough.

When did you look back? To see. The eye. Of. To see the eye of your brother laying there cut from neck to belly button. Crap they stopped his heart for 19 minutes, did what they had to do and bam. When you looked back and saw your brother move away, what did say? When you looked back saw your dad was not there, what did you do? Finding our own way is what makes us unique. Finding the path that few have taken is what makes us extraordinary. Getting back on the bike in the face of adversity is what makes you a lover.

rescind all other rhymes in favor of the soothsayer

Dead leaves and the dirty snow. Carbon sequestration. Getting the bends on a deep dive. Debates on TV tonight as to who will be our next President. This time stickers on bumpers may be made that say, “I Voted for him” (or her) finally after 8 years of hell. Here is my take. It is a messed up world we live in when a man a woman get the same education with the same grades and the man gets hired first and makes more money. Clinton although perhaps more qualified will lose out to “the man;” sad but true…the former that is…namely the system is what is sad. Today I like Obama but in my mind I think Clinton is more qualified. Crap. Breaking conventional thought is like love. It seldom attained but always sought after. Change. Evolution. The current status of things. Man (white/black) then wo+man (white black). That hierarchy (of a patriarch) is kind of disturbing, I don’t subscribe. I prefer human. I know I would not want the rolls reversed but they at least have to be equal. None the less a brother and a woman running neck and neck for the nomination on from the Dems is an exciting time to live as an American even though it is a Hinault (Obama) LeMond (Clinton) election.
I believe the natural self will find itself again or get consumed with the act of consumption further. It will find itself locally, in pools and parks this summer. It will find itself on dirt trails with dreams. I will listen and vote knowing there are flaws and perhaps knowing why it was Obama (equation=marketing+personality+decent platforms+man) back in Iowa (man first than woman) (I didn’t write the book I am just stating what’s in it) while we struggle to break free from conventional thought (man must be president) (as mountain bike riders try to grasp 29 inch wheels a departure from the status quo, there must be 26 inch wheels). Furthermore, the question is not “How to win an election?” It is “How not to lose?” ‘Further furthermore,’ the question is not, “Which one is faster” but, “Why are 29ers faster?” These are the things you can think about when it is 17 degrees you are on a 3 hour bike ride with tiny little twenty six inch wheels spinning like a hamster on the tread mill. I once said (in 1993 referencing bike riding) I will never…ride suspension, run clipless pedals, shave my legs and I will never wear lycra. Well I did all those things in relatively short order. Just two years ago once said I will never ride a 29er now I can’t wait for mine. I have listened for two years and now I am ready to consume with a conscious. It makes sense. I am through being the hamster, going nowhere. I need to cover more ground, all be it dead leaves and dirty snow right now. Life is short. I am getting the bends as I dive further into thought at 17 degrees. I am quite fine with a being a stay at home dad. But I have no wife. And how do you justify the bike over walks. I am not a patriarch. I am seeking the soothsayer…I am seldom attained.

punxsutawney phil & vd

I hung up the phone at 6 PM with one of my brothers. I got the good news regarding my bike, it was shipping. From running and core strength and rock bottom temperatures it was the first sign of spring since Punxsutawney Phil promised us 6 more weeks of winter. Now it was Valentine’s Day, the pesto garlic, three cheese mushroom extravaganza did me in. With only one slice I laid down and shortly thereafter I began barfing. I barfed for 12 hours, until it was just water, until it was morning, until now. Somewhere in the middle of the barfing my sphincter loosened. I did a 180 from head to ass worshiping the porcelain bowl. You know it’s bad when your puke is more solid than your shit. No Valentine’s Day for me. The only saving grace was I lost 5 % of my body weight tipping in at 157 and 6 foot. More like a mountain goat than a mountain bike rider. I feel malnourished. I am going back to bed with visions for Fisher 29ers in my head. I hope to get up eat and feast. With black eyelids and a sore gut. Late…dk