Corrected – column

When I got on my bike, a purposeful man came up to me. “Listen up! Do you think you’re doing a good job?” I looked at him with satisfaction, but a little surprise. “When I see how you get on your bike, you still have a lot to learn!” That could be possible. I’m a slow learner, but I usually get away with it… “Don’t you have any sense of responsibility getting on a bike dressed like that?!” And: “People like you are causing health care costs to keep going up!” I had a sense of déjà vu: I’ve been called out on my – lack of – motorcycle clothing before.

“Oh, I dress for the seasons. I've been doing that for about fifty years now”

“Man! In a short book, in a T-shirt and sandals! You really don’t know what you’re doing!”

“Listen here, you strange butter-talker, go rinse your mouth with buttermilk and keep your lips closed when you talk to me.” I started the engine and drove away…

I have been riding motorcycles for over fifty years. The last time I had asphalt eczema was over thirty years ago. Then I figured out that 98% of every motorcycle accident you have is your own fault. And I am willing to take the risk for the remaining 2%. There is always a risk. You can poke your eye with the handle of your toothbrush while brushing your teeth. Then you step back, trip over the bath mat and break your neck on the edge of the toilet bowl.

A motorcyclist is a mouse who lives under a cupboard in the kitchen in a house where two cats also live. Now that mouse can rightly think that he also has rights to the kitchen floor. But those cats see it differently. End of mouse.

As a motorcyclist, I am that mouse in the kitchen. And I stay under the cupboard as much as possible because I know that there are cats 'outside'. Car drivers and more of that stuff. That pleasant paranoia does not prevent me from enjoying motorcycling. Because I am constantly alert and anticipate, I enjoy it even more. More consciously. I do that in the awareness of my mortality. Because something can happen to me too. The motorcyclist who was hit head-on in a bend by a senior motorist who took the bend as an oncoming driver on the same side of the road as the motorcyclist? That motorcyclist had no chance. Even if he had had two helmets, an airbag suit and an ejector seat.

In my first thirty years of riding I practically lived on my bike. In the meantime I have dropped from once 40D km/year to something like 4000 kilometers per year on a few classic motorcycles. But my clothing style has remained unchanged: Well wrapped in spring, airy in summer, dry in autumn and in winter, when it is slippery, with the sidecar.

Riding in a club is something I do with three people at most. Riding in groups is not relaxed in my opinion. And dangerous for motorcyclists and other road users.

What struck me at the time is that… motorcyclists these days simply can’t ride a motorcycle anymore. You see men on big motorcycles. You can see from their entire riding style that they have no experience, that they are even afraid on their mega GS or Harley. You don’t see them making beautiful flowing turns, but you see them divide a circle arc into a wobbly 32-angled line. I have seen motorcyclists ‘freeze’ in turns because they lacked vehicle control. And then I am mainly talking about somewhat older motorcyclists. The younger ones are now simply on the road with powers of more than 150 hp. Add to that the fact that those youngsters have even higher testosterone levels. In combination with the busy traffic where the majority of motorists are blind and/or deaf and in a hurry or – on weekends – the herds of geriatric drivers… Well: you can indeed consider purchasing a complete, maximum protective motorcycle outfit with airbag vest, neck brace and hearing protection.

In the meantime I avoid the most popular routes. If you make your own plan instead of following your navigation, you can even ride on a nice weekend day without getting stuck in a traffic jam of motorcyclists.

But for me it's totally ok if people don't share my idea about motorcycling. Just go your own, sensible, way and enjoy it in your own way.

During a terrace stop I was recently approached by someone who turned out to be even older than me. He told me that he used to ride his motorcycle with clogs on. But that he now wore motorcycle boots. Because it was easier to shift gears. A nice man. Oh yes: There was also a couple of terrace sitters who were annoyed by the fact that two cigar-smoking old men were sitting on the terrace talking about motorcycles.

But that was because of the cigars.

Not because of the motorcycles.

I grant everyone their divine right. But in the meantime I have survived more than half a century of motorcycling. And I still enjoy every ride. So I think I have not done it completely 'fold'.

The helmet in the photo is my souvenir from that fall about thirty years ago. The knee with the bandage on it? While walking the dog in the evening, the dog saw a cat. Piet hates cats. When he lunged, I was standing on the wrong leg. Also my fault.

But maybe we should start thinking about whether you should also wear protective clothing when walking your dog. Or during sex.