Renger's father was with the police and rode a BMW boxer there. And at home was a BMW with a sidecar as a family vehicle. After additional family expansion, a car came. Not instead of, but with it. That was of course a BMW, a used 1600 cc. Meanwhile, Renger put the family relations on edge by driving a Yamaha FS. From his Dad's point of view, that was doubly wrong. It wasn't a BMW and the thing ran considerably faster than the legal 40 km/h. After the FS1, the motorcycle license came and Renger's father got things back on track by arranging a retired BMW boxer for his son through relations at the Domains.
Renger also proved to be very brand loyal and grew friendly with the BMW catalog range
We don't see each other often or regularly, but the penultimate time I saw him, he had a BMW K1600, which he was only moderately satisfied with and with. While I was delving into the mysteries of a 6 Volt hybrid wiring for my own boxer in front of the garage, a 525 BMW 1982 i drove up into the square near the garages. The driver got out a bit stiffly, and looked like an older brother of Renger. But it was Renger. It turned out that he had survived a near-death experience, but had some residual damage left.
Driving quietly on a rural road, a Volvo had suddenly come out of a garden
The fluorescent helmet and ultra-safe vest, plus the two viciously shining LED floodlights hadn't been conspicuous enough and the fat six-cylinder had hit the Volvo at right angles to the side. Renger's Original BMW Motor outfit with all its CE-protection things might have been rudely expensive, but the mechanics at the hospital agreed that the investment had saved his life. But it had been a bit of a stretch.
The Vulva pilot hadn't seen him
That is the standard explanation in cases like this, where by the way the phrase 'loud pipes safe lives' is also proven nonsense. The only moment a motorist hears a motorcycle is when such a thing hits the car and the rider enters the car through a windshield or side window.
Just carry on. But different
In the hospital and during his rehabilitation, Renger had of course had plenty of time to make plans. Fortunately, he didn't have to worry about his motorcycle future. Grace was able to put into perspective that her life partner had almost killed himself, but did not fall into the almost standard convulsion of "If you ever buy a motorcycle again, I'll leave you".
But because women are very crafty, she had coached Renger during his healing process. That is why he now arrived in the classic BMW with more than the usual number of wheels. The point was that his new acquisition did not have a tow bar. And he didn't own a motorcycle trailer. This practical combination was necessary for a moment when the purchase into which he had invested the rest of his insurance money had to be collected.
Another BMW, but now a 250 cc single cylinder
The approach for purchasing such a rustic stroller was: “It's a BMW. But he's so slow that nothing can happen to you. And if something happens, you get off and wait for it to be over.”
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