An acquaintance of mine is a real motorcyclist 2.0. He has an electric motorcycle and rides it like a real one. And let's be honest: in terms of performance, such a Duracell GT still looks pretty good. He was even with it in Switzerland. There, he bravely steered, overlooked a built-up bowl. Speeding in expensive in Switzerland. Driving too fast is more expensive. Much more expensive. Driving too fast in built-up areas? He was allowed to leave his motorcycle and was fined 5.000 Swiss Francs at home as ransom for his motorcycle.
Of course that was all my own stupid fault
But when you think back, you become a bit sad. The police were still driving in Porsches on the almost unlimited motorways here. I had just found my Great Love in Woerden: a Ducati 860 prepared by Biggelaar, which consisted mainly of a huge strangely curved polyester Tank, very thick Dell'Orto's and almost open Conti dampers. Oh yes: he was sprayed in a coarse blue metal flake. I had seen the machine. And was lost. Had paid hand money and needed two weeks to gather the rest of the money. After that I lived on macaroni and ham for months and drank tea. I also visited my parents around dinner time. By bike.
After two weeks I went to get my pride
I found Rob Noorlander sweeping the completely empty industrial hall with a broom. "Where's my bike!?!" Rob had had a clash with De Belasting. That's been buzzing around a bit. But I met him after his masterstroke to avoid the tax: He had smuggled all his company stuff including toilet paper plus all motorcycles to Luxembourg in one night, where he remained a Ducati and Harley dealer for years to come. My motorcycle turned out to have been on consignment with Rob. I was able to collect it from the owner. In the head of North Holland.
The journey to almost the polar circle was long
The bus driver let his only guest out. I had to walk another mile or two. There I found my Ducati plus the likely reason it went on sale. At least that's what I think. Talking was almost impossible due to a constantly screeching baby. There was no mother in the picture at the time. The visit was therefore short. And only now did I notice what an impossible sitting position my dazzling blue beauty had. Fortunately, I was even better foldable then than now. I hit the road and noticed that looking beautiful was no guarantee for pleasant touring abilities. Pretty soon my lower legs started to invent their own circulatory system. The Tomaselli clip-ons provided better stretch and stretching in the back and shoulders. But the debauched - and beautiful - intake and exhaust note was beyond fantastic.
At the height of Amsterdam I had a good feeling for the elongated trotter
And after Amsterdam I raced with a calm 160 on the counter, it was an Italian counter, so it must have been 140 km/h, further south. I was overtaken by the White Mice, the Porsche driving highway police. When the officer saw he had my attention, he made a follow sign with his gloved hand. I followed. And the Porsche went faster and faster. With the speedometer of the Duc above 220 km/h, my jet helmet moved above my head like an angry kite on a too short leash. I thought it was pretty hard enough. The Porsche slowed down and entered the right lane. We stopped. We shook hands. I didn't know what would happen. The driver said, “We were behind you. The thing sounds very nice. We wanted to see how fast he could go.” After five minutes of chatting, we said our goodbyes. “Do you pay attention to your speed? Beautiful color by the way!”
Such an encounter will make you glow for a week
And that it was not only reasonably pleasant in the past, but that it is still possible today? In the context of free classical thinking, work is being done on a BMW with a Ford V4 block. At the moment that wrachtsel was ready to drive, a test flight was made. And where we hadn't seen the police in years, there was now an alcohol trap at 11.30 am. There was no need to blow. But two agents were overly interested in the BMW V4. “If you get that thing through the RDW, I would like to drive it sometime. But shall we now agree that we have not seen you and never want to see you again?”
Good people there with the police
A few years ago at 160 km/h on the A1 behind an Audi A6 that cleared the way, after a light signal from me, the Audi pulled over and I went towards 200. Out of nowhere, suddenly a motorcycle police officer to the left of me who gave the 'take it easy' sign with his left hand and then a thumbs up. They still exist; the chill cops…
police experiences are enough to fill an entire issue of AMK. Both fun and about which I can still get angry. Getting stopped on the highway because the cop had never seen that model of motorcycle before makes an ordinary day a fun one. A cop who remarks when you stand next to him that he has never seen a Harley make less noise than his BMW also falls into that category, just like a young cop who is learning to check a whole look of those youngsters at a traffic control, his colleagues are surprised to show that a Harley has two buttons to indicate direction. One on the left side of the handlebar and one on the right side of the handlebar. And that also by pressing both of those, the hazard lights will flash. Only when you say that you are on your way to work and that the early shift would like it if you would come and relieve it, do they let you drive on in amazement. But if, after half an hour of talking about the differences to drive through a traffic jam or past a traffic jam between the crash barriers and the left lane, you pass the traffic jam with an officer who had been in that task force and get right that they saw it right that you warned others to slow down and then still give a ticket of 250 guilders because you drove ten meters over the hard shoulder and do not receive any response if you write a piece about this in the club magazine and submit it to the relevant agent for approval then i get angry again. The fact that I then drove through the traffic jam so rudely that several motorists were shocked was due to that angry mood. No excuse, but understandable.
It was Queen's Day in 1978 I was still living in The Hague at the time and wanted to visit my grandfather in Roosendaal. My then CX 500 had received a new camshaft from Honda in the winter months before. My confidence in the CX had dropped below zero and to regain confidence I wanted to test the machine… When I came through the Eurotunnel and the opportunity arose to experience how the camshaft held up at high speeds I increased speed by a Ford Granada in my wake that apparently was in more of a hurry than I … with 180 km / h on the clock I just went to the right and the Ford Grenada came driving past me in the corner of my left eye I recognized with great indignation the light blue shirts with those stripes on the shoulders then came the gesture to go to the hard shoulder, so now it was Queen's Day and my then wife liked to tie an orange banner in my 27mc antenna maybe that helped me .. I was asked why and how fast did I drive? My answer was :" my counter indicated 160/170" there were differences of opinion and he persisted with something like 150, so as not to be rude I just agreed with him ... with the pleasure of my legs I was allowed to travel to continue my grandfather, some time later I was allowed to pay 125 guilders for this adventure. Was I matted? After that experience, I never drove that fast again in the Netherlands.
Greetings Richard
Just received an official warning from the Marechaussee on my driving license for speed. They couldn't measure it but I overtook them with 150 where 100 was allowed. Was in a bad mood. Bought K1100 in Balk and with 3 sometimes 4 cylinders to Nijmegen. I don't know which is better: fine or this. They weren't rude. Can I ask CBR if they have made a note and above all are they obliged to provide this?
Yes, of those cops who react like this, more and more are retiring 🙄.
yes, they are still there, but less and less,
yet…