A sidecar as a dating service

ER Classics Desktop 2022

Motorcyclists are often seen as threatening. People on classic motorbikes are found to be a bit less wrong, although former Randstad residents living in dyke houses with an adequate amount of money consider it irresponsible in terms of the environment.

But a classic sidecar combination? This is found to be endearingly socially broad. As the owner of such a tricycle you are therefore approached uninhibited by members of all currently known genders. That sometimes makes shopping a somewhat lengthy expedition. But oh well ... it's fun.

While loading a crate of groceries, a pleasant-looking young woman asked if she could ask something. I always find that strange: ask if you can ask something. Because you already do that at that moment, right?

Nevertheless. "Whether her grandmother would be allowed to go to the crib?" It seemed to me that a grandmother must have had the time to arrange something like that. It was different. The brother of the grandmother had once killed himself on the motorcycle. That had made motorcycling within the family taboo. The apparently deceased grandmother's husband was also against motorcycling. He had a cardiac arrest at the jeu de boulen. Well ... if jeu de boulen is too exciting for you ...

We made an appointment. The amazingly youthful grandmother was suitably pleasantly surprised. I got to hear the story about her brother again and was curious about what kind of motorcycle he had driven. That was not clear. But that grandmother had always been a motorcycle enthusiast? Clearly!

Grandmother boarded. Granddaughter sat on the rear gliding saddle and held a giggly hold on the handle on the nose of the saddle. She was used to horse saddles. But this was new. We drove a tourist tour. Drunk on the terrace of the Waag in Doesburg. It was a nice outing. Grandmother and granddaughter were nice girls. In the meantime we called each other relaxed by our first names.

Back at home, coffee was served. Grandmother Linde had enjoyed it. She thanked her granddaughter for the move and me for the ride. And she thought that after this adventure she might even want to sit on the back of a solo bike ...

I am not a travel agency, but I vaguely knew a friendly motorcyclist whose buddy had not been married for some time. The grandmother got blushes on her cheeks from all the possibilities that suddenly lay ahead. I ensured that the required addresses were exchanged and I went on my way again.

Now, two years later, I was again tipping things into the sidecar. A broad-waving woman came running towards me. She didn't seem malicious to me. So I waited. It turned out to be grandmother Linde.

Despite running, she was not out of breath. She looked radiant. I told her that. "It's all because of you!" I hadn't seen it coming. But in terms of women's logic, there was something in it. Ernst and Linde had met after the sidecar adventure. Two years ago she had spent a week gathering courage. The moment she wanted to call Ernst, the phone rang. It was Ernst who called her. They made an appointment for the much desired passenger seat ride.

They started talking. And it turned out to click pleasantly. They had been on vacation on the motorbike, on the Honda Pan European from Ernst. To Portugal. It had been fantastic. That was the moment that I saw how seriously Ernst took the matter. The Pan was his work bike. To enjoy motorcycling, he had a Moto Guzzi LeMans 2. But apparently he had thought his passenger's seating comfort was more important than his driving pleasure on the slender fat man from Mandello.

Additional news was that Linde had just moved in with Ernst and was in the process of reorganizing the business. "And you know what I liked so much when I was with him for the first time?" I did not know. “It was pretty neat. And he had a motorcycle in the room! ” As far as I knew Ernst, he had cleaned up before his visit. But that of that motorcycle? I knew that.

In the meantime, there is another member of the friendlier modeled family who also wants to participate in a sidecar. I don't know anything about her marital status yet. But look around to see if I have a motorcyclist on offer. It is scheduled for next spring.

Sidecar makes you happy


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  1. Again a wonderful story!
    Nice description and you would like to get on the bike
    Unfortunately my motor measures 50cc and is a newtimer
    But have a lot of fun
    Wonderfully warm motorcycle suit for the cold months / summer days
    And shorts with tshirt for the sun-drenched warm days
    Clothing or little clothing is as safe as you drive yourself ……

  2. Great story ..

    And as a member of the (so phrased by you) 'friendlier modeled sex' I just keep laughing about the style of writing.
    Now a subscription myself ...
    Mainly because of your pieces ..

    • Thank you Jinny! I will include your subscription in the upcoming rate negotiations! Then I will finally become a rich freelancer! Tis just silliness. Our old junk is not a bad pastime. And if you just start playing with it instead of living behind a screen, you will meet people and things will happen. Those screens are a thing. A few years ago, on a beautiful Saturday - when I was at work - I posted some teasing about all those safety attributes in motorcycle land online in a forum. A photo of me with half helmet & shorts on my old sidecar. Within an hour, about fifty people had responded angrily: Immature! IRRESPONSIBLE!! Softy!. Dangerous crazy! Antisocial! And they were all motorcyclists who did not ride on a beautiful Saturday, but were grumbling behind their keyboard. Nice and safe behind a keyboard….

  3. Fantastic stories does this man !! He knows how to hit the right chord (with me) and ensures a happy outlook on life. Every time I read a piece of him, the corners of my mouth curl up a bit …… Nice feeling that gives. May I ask you to continue with this for a long time?

    Greetings, Pieter
    ps. someday I'll get on the bike again after so many bits… ..

    • Therefore. Sometimes it is disappointing. Sometimes it's okay. Tis just what you are focusing on (spoke the man with an inexplicable electrical failure on his daily moped from 1971)

  4. When I got to know my love it turned out that my future father-in-law had just written the A-tje on paper.
    Although my Argus-eyed mother-in-law was observing my roaring iron and my person, the ice with Dad was already broken.
    Both ladies had nothing to do with engines.

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