Retiring at 83? – column

I bought a motorcycle. From an 83-year-old. He stopped riding it because his wife, for the peace of mind of her daughter and a story that the grandchildren wouldn't be able to handle it if grandpa would drive himself short... Damn, will I have to get rid of motorcycles in only 13 years? I hope not, but it's just a reason to enjoy every moment until then.

My enjoyment started at the age of 17^e when I bought a Norton Domi 75 for 99 guilders. I pushed it out of the street to kick it around the corner, next to my grandmother's house. The system was already so rotten that the police could take that machine away from me with impunity.

Later, after a year of serious dating, I broke up with my then Love. I bought a Ducati 2.000 GT with a gear shift problem for 750 guilders. That problem turned out to be a spring that could be replaced within fifteen minutes. There was a song 'Dave is on the road again' and from under my hand-painted jet helmet I resounded 'Dolf is on the road again'. You can make heartbreak last as long as you want. Friend Theo Terwel recently restored a GT750 for a customer. Who sold the Duc. For 43.000 euros.

There were no TomToms or anything. There were no smartphones. There was no internet. There were no plans. That approach had led to great things before. For example, on a Friday morning, a beautiful Friday morning as an enterprising MTSser, I had set off for Utrecht where the regional MTS Scutos (more than 400 pupils, or should I say 'students') was and still is. Long story short: I drove past Kanaaleiland and had a pleasant weekend in the Ardennes.

I have always known more people than I have had money. I was always lucky with jobs that included a company car. That gave me a lot of space to do fun things. Because with four people in a Peugeot 504 estate Diesel to and from the South of France was with only one refueling at my own expense divided by four. That kind of thing. But at a certain point I had money for a ZGAN XS1. I bought it at Van der Kuinder. When I was there again, there was a traded-in at the back of the shop Triumph T150 V, a machine with a horrible reputation. But a very nice machine. Nico just didn't want to believe that it was a serious proposal when I said that I wanted to trade the XS for the Triumph. Once the penny had dropped he kept emphasizing that there was NEVER EVER any form of warranty on the T150 and that he would rather not see me anywhere near Hilversum again.

With that one Triumph I drove a good 50D km with lots of TLC and respect. In May it snowed like crazy in England. I decided to take the boat and cut my holiday short. Once it was warmed up I let the three-cylinder run. Where possible I drove 160. The Trident ran better and better. Had I perhaps just driven too slowly all those years? At home the Triumph into the garage and it took me hours to warm up again.

All good things must come to an end, but the bottom line is I've had far more motorcycles than relationships.

The last 25+ years the business has crystallized a bit. Since then there have always been and in any case a Moto Guzzi and a Ural tricycle in the garage. The dimensions of that garage further determine that there is at most room for four motorcycles. So that remained makeshift. Because I have always stayed away from modernity and electronics, I repair them myself. In addition, the hydraulic lifting table that I once purchased has become an indispensable tool. Because although I am not yet 83, my back has not gotten much better over time. Some people estimate that this could have something to do with the crash I had with an XT 500. I dived into a ravine with that. Or that it could be because of the time I went under the crash barrier with a Biggelaar Ducati. Nonsense. Backs are simply a weak point in my family. My father also had back problems. And he never rode a motorcycle. And I still have 13 years before I am 83.