A BSA, a reenactment and… It was Theo's birthday - column

Keymate Ernie and I were satisfied with Project 13C, which was in a mild state of decomposition, and opened a swing-top bottle of Grolsch when Theo and someone else entered the yard. Theo is a motorcyclist with twinkling eyes. He masters the painting of classic motorcycles to perfection, and on his own birthdays he likes to do a round on his unrestored BMW R69S. Because of the pleasantly experienced R69S, we knew that Theo was on his birthday excursion. That could be quite right at the beginning of April. Someone else was new to us.

Otherwise, it had a problem, Theo stated

“He has stepped back, bought that there - a thumb gesture to the bike that, until recently, won all the comparison tests in the world - and he doesn't like it. I thought: I'll show him what you suckers are up to. ” Someone else reported that he did not find the adventurous feeling of freedom from his student days on his purchase. “You are no longer a student, you are almost dead. How about a walker? ”

With a smile on your face, you can say so much without it getting mulled.

Someone else, meanwhile, was looking somewhat bewildered at the monstrosity on the lifting table. If you are attuned to each other you understand each other. “Come on, let's go to Hans”, said Ernie. We set out in a column. At Velperbroek, Theo asked: "Where does that Hans live?" "In Amsterdam!" The light turned green. By the way, no idea whether Hans was at home. Hans was at home and showed his dusty, but honestly lived BSA one-man. An 'older restoration'. There was a tear in the buddy cover. The counter needle was loose on the dial.

To be sure, we asked Hans if he still wanted to get rid of that British rabbit. He wanted that. In the meantime he had lost his heart to old Italian motorcycles. “Go try it, we are opposite. I have arranged a time slot with the bar owner ”, Hans waved with a chubby hand gesture.

From WWII, we Dutch have a clear desire for illegality and resistance. We went into hiding in the pub. Beer with it. Cheese sausage platter and a portion of bitterballen. Fine! Cheers and congratulations Theo! Someone Else got a basic kickstart lesson and passed it. He stepped on the British pestle a little more in dismay and drove off with a graceful arc. The tram driver will be over the fright in the meantime.

More than two hours later, Someone Else came back reborn

He grinned like a drugged Smurf: “He stopped twice on the way. But I got it working again. ” He took his beer and drank from the bottle. The midlife cruiser turned bad boy again. His whole body was beaming. “An old motorcycle is much more fun than a new girlfriend,” he beamed. He got a romantic look in his eyes for a week. “Mine has a big ass and a good cook. I should never get rid of them anyway. ” We were collectively filled with so much emotion.

Of course we Dutch men also have feelings

We just have no idea what to do with it. And our soft side? We use it to sit on. So when you already find an almost überpefect 1300 2014'er touring sports bike inernettend with a neat, relaxed man in his fifties with dirty hands, you can bid very sharply. Someone Else really doesn't care anymore. He has his Triumphin the meantime provide you with a normal handlebar and have the old-fashioned motorcycle feeling again. Has been to the Ardennes with it. With his Lief. To a hotel. It was romantic. And there was only two tinkering on the way there and back. Just like in his college days.

And the birthday boy or girl Theo?

He wondered if he should actually give himself a Laverda for his birthday. Just like the bar owner had been behind the case. There was a lot of work to do. And he actually got in the way… To be continued.

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