While walking the dog, I hear the birds chirping and singing again instead of coughing. Spring is coming. And in a week or two everyone will have forgotten that corona thing and then we can go wild again. In a quality newspaper – which is becoming increasingly erratic due to a lack of deliverers – I read: “I can start living again! Party all night and just go wild with a handful of pills behind my uvula. They stole two years of my life. I'm going to go hard on the catch-up position.”
Age or Generation
It must be an age thing, but I thought I'd take things a little easier. However, it is not a generational thing. Because when I still thought I had eternal life, there was also a party. There were also all kinds of intoxicants and it was not even very unusual to just get back on the bike with ten lagers 'behind the uvula'. And there were pills too. After a very nice party, the people who didn't feel too lame dropped off. At those last laps was Mario, who put on his helmet on dead reckoning and with a head full of dreams and started his GT380. That thing had three Reimo expansion outlets, so the local residents got a clear indication that the party was over at about four o'clock.
So kangaroos..
A few days later most of the chemical fumes had dissipated and it turned out that our regular party co-party Mario was out of the picture. The case was seriously investigated and from the squat, which was Mario's home, the word came that our friend was in the hospital. We went on a sick visit and met a Mario who did a good imitation of The Mummy. He didn't speak too clearly because of his broken jaw. But we got the story out. On the way home, Mario started seeing kangaroos. For reasons unknown, those creatures annoyed him more and more until he reached his chemical boiling point. Mario decided to kill such a fucking beast. A real kangaroo might not have survived. But for GT380, the innocent Ford Transit that was mistaken for a kangaroo was just a size too big. The murderous motorcyclist hit the oncoming vehicle in the middle between the headlights. And came to consciousness in the hospital. Eventually, and after a lot of rehab, Mario might have gotten a little ragged, but physically he was in better shape than he'd been in years. And that had to be celebrated!
We didn't have techno, trance or whatever
But the 'crossing out' was no stranger to us either. At the end of October it was such wet and cold weather in central Italy that the five of us decided to blow home in one go. That became a matter of filling the tank, full throttle to the next filling station and so on to the Central Netherlands. At the time, protective clothing only did its best to keep out rain and cold. At least about 1600 kilometers away we were brain dead and we had no butts and necks left. I myself walked around with an annoying whistle in my left ear for two days after arrival. And since then I have only been warm in the sauna.
But in all reasonableness it will now be a pleasant and corona-free spring
I won't tell anyone that two years of my life have been stolen from me. Because I have already saved my time. After all, I could have killed myself 500 years ago during the last XNUMX kilometers of our trip from Rome. Let's not complain. Let's live!
Also read:
– How you can subscribe to Auto Motor Klassiek and how we appreciate that
- Lake columns
- More stories about classic motorcycles
You could just sign up as a member of the Iron Butt Association, you can also put a sticker on your motorcycle that you have ridden 1000 miles in 24 hours. And then you also get a certificate and a pin. But then you have to submit your petrol receipts and I doubt if they can still be found
Didn't you drive through collonne-a-dolfland without a speed limit? = faster ; You might have had less neck, butt and back pain!
Dolf, again a beautiful story and rightly so, how do you do this every time !! still a special gift, read them with great pleasure and above all keep going dolf !!
Just 40+ years of stupid, instead of doing sensible things
In any case, we are very lucky that your memories have remained active! Great story again Dolph!
Thank you. Luckily I still have the lyrics for when the memory gets less
Wonderfully graphically written. Close your eyes and you're in the middle of it. AWESOME !!!!
I agree with the compliments made earlier. Saves a lot of typing 😉
Keep using that pen (or in this case the keyboard) like that. It couldn't be better!!!
WHAT A FABULOUS STORY AGAIN!!!
DO NOT ENJOY ANYONE OTHER THAN PEOPLE WHO WITHOUT READING A NOTE JUST PLAY ON THEIR MUSICAL INSTRUMENT(S) WHAT THEY'RE REQUESTED.
BUT…..THIS KIND OF DOLF STORIES GIVES ME A TEND TO BE JEALOUS OF DOLF……WISH I COULD WRITE WITH SUCH A PEN TOO!!!
KEEP DRIVING AND WRITING DOLF!!!!
COMBINATION WORD COULD BE……WRITING!
😉
Then we're both jealous of people who can make music. And all I can do is drive, look and marvel. And if you practice it for about 40+ years, you'll get there. But thanks anyway!
You are and will remain a real serial word, Dolf!
Senior Killer Now!
That is quite a trip of 1600km!
Have you been all the way to Rome? What were you looking for there?
A blessing to be able to drive all the way home?
But I once drove to Saint Tropez in 1 day with a bit of night, of course. but then you are indeed completely fed up and it was still hot.
The good old days with my Honda CB 750 with a baguette past the tank bag.
Greetings Bert and keep writing otherwise I will miss you!
That was when I was still doing new product presentations. And the ride was cold, wet, and shit. But I had another appointment the next day. So wrong planning. And thanks for the encouragement!
Nice story, nice weather :-))
Again, a wonderful story!!
How do you get it written
Just remember a little bit of what you have experienced if you have lived on a motorcycle for about 20 years and then just kept making serious kilometers. Never plan too much and never go with organized trips (provided for a fee, but not even that)