Time for reflection – column

For inexplicable reasons, GeKra Motors and Richard Busweilers Ural and Dnepr shop do not appear to be essential companies. So let's 'mess' (quote Richard Busweiler) a bit. And we think back to the time when the world was still young and Covid-free. That was the time when motorcyclists were not yet tame non-smoking and Spa-drinking TomTom or Garmin followers. That was the time when the treasurer of the Ariel Club had once again confused the club's coffers and his trading money. He then got a beating. But he was allowed to stay in office because he could get parts so cheaply.

Too ambitious

It was the time when Timmie was in his attic room in Utrecht Triumph had restored and at the end realized that his pride reborn couldn't get down the stairs. Also because his girl had left the building halfway through the restoration project that determined the living space. He tried it on his own. The Triumph got stuck in the stairs at the first bend. Timmy too. And then there was 'Mad Fredje' or 'Kratje'. A descendant of an old noble family, including a double name with 'ae's' and 'ck's'. He was a textbook example of 'the eternal student'. When he didn't show up for a few days, the door of his room was forced. Fredje lay half undressed in a mega intoxication half on his bed. The rats had eaten off his foot. Those rats were a thing. But Fredje saw it this way: “They lived here before I did. And so they can stay.” Later he could not fall asleep. He put his Norton in his room and started it. He was rescued by his neighbors who kicked in the door.

At one meeting, the idea was to surprise a somewhat shaky, eternal bachelor. An inflatable doll was placed in his tent. But all the anticipation and allusions to his tent made him shy. So at the camping site at the Schellingwouderbrug he decided not to sleep in his tent, but to lie down next to his tent. It rained hard that night. He contracted pneumonia. Someone came to pick up his bike from a renowned Harley Specialist. He tapped over XNUMX guilders from his back pocket and had his purchase put in a closed aluminum trailer behind his Pontiac TransAm. When I asked the Harley man what I was doing because I was dubious about a ZGAN buyer's house for one hundred and fifty guilders, I got a jovial slap on the shoulder. “You're doing it much worse than you think! He's on benefits!"  

The time we went to England just before Christmas to score parts. It was cold. First went one Triumph broken. Then the other. We were tinkering, completely numb, when a neat Vauxhall pulled up. In the car was a couple with two interesting daughters. The driver had also been a motorcyclist. The family lived just a mile away. We were invited to continue our repair efforts in the garage. We continued to eat. We stayed overnight. The next day there was snow. Vauxhall driver Nick took us to the Triumph parts specialist an hour away. It was so nice there too. The Christmas Spirit jumped on my fellow traveler and the one daughter. They even got married later.

But first there was the return journey with well-running engines and our newly acquired treasures. We took the boat from Dover to Calais. It was winter in Calais too. And today's fantastic winter-proof clothing had yet to be invented. Our ways parted. I drove to my parents' house. When I got there it was dark. I couldn't get off the bike because of 'cold through and through!'. After about ten minutes my father came out. He had heard me coming. And then there was silence. Two days later, the bone near my knees was still cold.

As a motorcyclist of some age, you muse about such things, while the ice is on the roof of the garage. The recently purchased retro moped for local use, a 125 cc Mash has just had (1 liter) fresh oil and a new air filter. The Chang Jiang project is on the lift bridge. The Ural combination is sulking because this is already the second winter that he is not allowed to play outside. Because no matter how nice the weather is now, I think more and more about that time when I was so numb that my father had to lift me off the motorcycle. Fortunately, spring is already tingling in the air… isn't it?

Have a nice day and a prosperous new year.