An online movie column

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There classics purchasing (copy)

It is again to get on the bike well dressed. The current correct motorcyclists also do this at temperatures above 30 degrees. They also generally find motorcycles too noisy. Obey traffic laws. And drink spring water from the right brands. Fine.

That not all motorcyclists are good was shown by one film in which a couple of those brothers in light T-shirts drive from Breda to Rotterdam in just eleven minutes. Then you arrive at an average speed of over 200 km / h. To be precise: 218 km / h. And with such a speed, 40 kilometers is really not much.

The stories

In a small circle, the stories always surface what the various speakers did themselves in their early days. That was of course bad boys work and a laugh. It was the time when we could take on the whole world on pure testosterone. The road was quieter. And the engines did not reach average speeds of 218 kilometers per hour. In the meantime, many people no longer know how the café racers in England started. In the pub some coins were thrown into the jukebox and the rider had to complete a fixed course and report again before the single was over. There are serious indications that these actions were not always handled correctly with the traffic rules. There were also quite a few people who ended up in the hospital instead of the pub. If they ended up in the pub they could still end up in the hospital. Because you can also get drunk on English beer if you drink enough of it. So there is not much news under the sun.

Nice pace of travel

But in the meantime, we motorcyclists are nowhere near as suicidal as is thought in non-motorcyclist circles. Motorcyclists who drive classically certainly not. And if you are overtaken on the A1 by two Ducatists on sonorously humming classic L-twins, they are allowed to drive 140. But that's just because that's a good travel pace for such fat desmos. There was also no irresponsible traffic behavior. That is why we were curious about the two when they were at the next gas station. We weren't the first. In front of the two Ducs was a neutral-looking car that apparently had just gotten out of two policemen.

The men were in such a pleasant conversation that we hooked up. It was quite fun. Despite the fact that the crew of the inconspicuous surveillance car was triggered by the travel pace of the two bikers. But the conversation had already passed that point. In fact there were six motorcycle enthusiasts talking about their passion. The agents said goodbye: “Be careful. Not all colleagues are motorcyclists ”.

Shortly before that, I had a conversation with a motorcycle cop who had stopped me. My classic breathed out through Megaton dampers modified by Startwin. The officer thought it was quite noisy. Or I knew people could get annoyed by that. My comment that it was not all that bad if I kept an eye on the rev counter. Then the police monkey came up. If we now just swap engines until the exit, then I also have an old man Triumph and then you know if you stay behind me how much noise that thing actually makes. The end of the song was that I still tinkered with original dampers under the moped. And in terms of motorcycle clothing, it sometimes remains to make do.


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  1. You know what's such a shame? That they consciously go so hard for their own pleasure, but that if things go wrong, which of course there is something more in it, it is others who will pay for the consequences. Apart from a fellow road user as first (!) And further from the direct care provider up to and including the undertaker who is allowed to fix the remains. And the entire community can pay for the costs. In short, perhaps one-sided fun, but no one else can enjoy it.

  2. Great idea to make a movie column for it.

    Idea to make a movie of “” tinkering “” or just drive through a village with some sound recording.

    Keep it up, maybe a small subscription later to watch movies

  3. The most annoying non-smokers are usually people who used to smoke themselves. Let me confess right away that 10 years ago I had very bad Remus dampers under my Duuc. And among many other motorcycles. Is it the age or the zeitgeist? I don't know, but motorcyclists with open exhausts annoy me to death. It is not necessary to confront everyone within a radius of a kilometer or more with your hobby. I hope that more motorcyclists will realize that, it would contribute to a more positive image of motorcyclists. Clothing? In France gendarmes drive in short shirt sleeves, so everyone should know that for themselves. The advantage of riding a sidecar is that you don't crash that quickly 👍🏼😇

  4. To be honest, as a motorcyclist, I sometimes get annoyed by people who cart around on their motorbike without sound insulation. Now I am of course an unimaginable wimp, because I drive a BMW boxer with original pipes because I find those exhausts so nice and quiet. Fortunately, the shaking of the thick muff is not filtered out. In terms of clothing, I am very wrong, because in 2020 who is still driving around in a grease suit without fall protection? Well, I do, because it is so comfortable. The fall will probably be much less pleasant, but that has not happened to me so far except for an innocent slider, and the Egyptian cotton (12 ounce) from Belstaff was fortunately able to withstand that.
    It remains that you can constantly annoy a lot of people with wrong recalls. Not wearing protective clothing will only shock the hospital staff if you end up there after sliding in your shorts over that wonderfully rough zoab.

  5. Well, as far as clothing is concerned, I remember normal rain pants that, after driving 200 kilometers, hung like sheets around my legs. Sound recalls a Laverda SF120 that was once converted to a 1-hour racer that I used to move around without modifying the open 6 in 2. The same Laverda was able to reach the top 1 and that was indeed achieved on the Veenslang at the Assen circuit. Very early on Sunday morning, of course, because at that time the circuit was still part of the public road. Later in the day there were always oncoming traffic in the form of cars with suckers in them who did not know the direction of travel.

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