That should be inspiring for when the holiday gear is put away!
In the meantime, we will give you a holiday story from the pocketbook 'Men, motorbikes and (what) girls' by our editor Dolf Peeters on your tablet.
That booklet can be purchased via bol.com and www.bestelmijnboek.nl. It costs 15,95 and it contains 100 (!) Often politically incorrect stories.
This is one of them:
An Ish from 1956
Of course we could make the diagnosis ourselves. You're not going out without a multimeter, are you? The Ish 350 cc from 1956 had a lot of dynamo. And such a messy six-volt battery, you drove that empty.
The Ish was towed back a few kilometers to the terraces on the outskirts of Cadzand Bad. That gave some misunderstanding when a hasty motorist wanted to insert between the towing sidecar combination and the Ish, who dangled fifteen meters behind it on the loose line. The oncoming car was also shocked. Fortunately there was a cycle path next to the road and next to the cycle path an endless field. That was a beautiful dust cloud behind us.
On the first terrace on the right we took refreshments. The terrace is easy to find for the WegenWacht. We emmerged the WW to have the cheerful black two-wheeler repatriated. The ANWB lady listened to the argument and said to send a WegenWachter. We report that we did not need a Road Guard, but a truck. The lady said that the Road Guard was coming. We concluded that they have a low opinion of the current motorcyclist at the WegenWacht. Send a roadside assistance first to see what is there?
The wait was good on the terrace. The WegenWachter came, saw the two-stroke pastry and stammered: "What is that !?". "An Ish 350 from 1956!" We wailed. "With a broken dynamo".
The WegenWachter was younger than the Ish. He measured the matter and diagnosed a defective dynamo. We nodded benevolently. See, he knew it all!
The WegenWachter wanted to solve the problem by putting the battery on the fast charger. "That's not going to work. We will not come until halfway through the tunnel. " The man was clearly from after the six-volt era. He sighed: “Then he must be repatriated.
Later there was a truck with an unbelievably dialect-speaking, according to 65 year-old, Zeeland with a huge gray hair. He was overjoyed that once again a motorbike without plestik got on the cart. At least you could lash it down nicely. When the fork was pulled into the front springs, two jets of fork oil spouted from the breather caps on top of the fork. The oil clattered on the diamond plate underneath. De Zeeuw was completely enchanted. He had not seen so much oil in ages.
The Ish driver decided not to let himself be repatriated, but to ride back in the sidecar. We offered coffee and cake to De Zeeuw. Wave off the transport. Only the spare wheel of the sidecar was lost on the way. Never heard of it again.
A pity about such a wheel.