Holiday from then - a reader response

Trouw AMK subscriber Adri Brevet also follows the “very informative short stories” via the daily email. He also finds the contributions of Dolf Peeters particularly worth reading and often puts a smile on his face. Dolf's column about the Holidays back then did something more for him.

Adri writes: “The report of his badly ended motorcycle trip through France literally gave a shock of recognition, because something similar, with an almost uncanny resemblance, I experienced many years ago. After the Heinkel scooter period I have almost exclusively from 1966 Citroën and the France report has been written for one Citroënforum. At the moment I still own a Vespa Sprint from 1963. ” He has enclosed a report that we liked so much here that we reproduce it in full below.

The French truck driver

The title of this story refers to the one and only hero of this story.

In the 12s, hitchhiking was the only way for students to see Europe on a limited budget. Popular were the meat coolers, which drove back and forth between Breukelen and the slaughterhouse of Porte de la Vilette in Paris. For ƒ XNUMX you were folded and transported to Paris, after which the great hitchhiking adventure could begin.

Elevators

The lift spot at the exit road to the south, the Autoroute du Soleil, was notorious. Depending on your appearance, you were there waiting from a few hours to a few days for a French bulldog. For girls, those times were a few minutes to a few hours (also depending on appearance). Often you were dropped off at the beginning of a village after a lift, after which you had to walk through the village to the other end with your excessively heavy luggage in the heat. Fortunately, you mainly keep the fun lift memories.

Such as the elevator in a Facel-Vega with a driver who could not handle the great power at all and who also constantly looked at 2 such attractive boys. Unforgettable was also the young couple in a Traction, which was packed to the rear seat. They stopped anyway, because the more heavily loaded, the better the handling, they said. Folded and broken, we made it to Paris. A lift from an Englishman in the hilly area in central France was very educational. He had a racing school in France and also raced as such. Even as a teenager with very limited driving experience, I could tell he had masterful vehicle handling. At one point the Englishman said: These Peugeots 403, usefull cars, but I don't like them. I later drove 403s. It didn't turn you on, but they weren't bad cars at all before then.

Heinkel Tourist type 103 A-1

My friend and I then decided to do things differently next time, aided by the fact that we had grown old enough to own a motor vehicle. That was a Heinkel Tourist type 103 A-0 (the one with the tube handlebars) for my friend and a type 103 A-1 (the one with the steel handlebar) for me. The Heinkel had a 174 cm3 four-stroke, 6,8 kW (9,2 hp) and Dyna start. It was a pity that the four gears on the steering wheel were operated, because nothing beats foot gear.

The truckdriver

We drove smoothly on the provincial roads to our destination in central France, because toll roads were still rare and in any case above our budget. Just before our destination, such a provincial one-lane road almost killed me. Driving ahead, I suddenly felt my steering wheel turning progressively heavier. With a 2-wheeler, this inevitably has the consequence that you will swing, because you can no longer correct your balance. During this sinusoidal movement, I was amazed to see the ever-increasing swings bring me to the left side of the road. And a truck with boulders happened to be driving there. If I remember correctly, such a Renault with front steering wheel.

The rest of the memory is fragmentary, but I was thrown off the scooter and ended up on the shoulder with nothing more than a tear in my jeans and a scratch on my helmet. The following had happened in a fraction of the time. The truck driver had followed my suicide route with the same bewilderment, reflexively throwing the steering wheel to the right and then flattening several roadside posts.

Because of his reaction, instead of a head-on collision, I had only hit his left fender. The handlebars of my scooter were roughly level with the buddy seat, so it seemed to me that the holiday was over. But you are young and resilient and the Travel & Credit letter from the ANWB provided a solution. The scooter wreck, along with part of the luggage, was stored with a friendly resident and was repatriated to my parental home.

Having arranged all the formalities, I climbed on the back of my friend for the last part to Moulins airport, where we had glider and parachute jumping plans. Until the night's sleep it seemed like it was just a ripple in the holiday. But once in the sleeping bag I was shaking and sweating all night, reliving that one moment over and over again. But, as already mentioned, you will not let yourself be known and we had a wonderful flying and jumping holiday.

Skydiving is a lot of fun when you float down from the screen in complete silence. Before that, you have to jump out of that hole in the depths. The first time I farted 7 colors str. At the last and 12th time it was just as bad. The opening of the chute was all times automatic by a string attached to the plane with a break cord. Then you can still get a hit in the neck. But still nice to have done once.

Epilogue

The French truck driver may have saved my life, but at least saved me from serious injury. I sent him a big box of chocolates after coming home.

Of course I called my parents and told them that I only had a tear in my jeans and a scratch on my helmet. But when De Heinkel arrived in Utrecht with the crumpled front, they could not believe that after such an accident the driver only had a tear in his jeans and a scratch on his helmet. So they have lived in total stress for 2 weeks.

I was also able to reconstruct the cause. Before the holidays I had a flat front tire. Contrary to my habit, I had not repaired it myself, but had it done at a petrol station. They had put a patch over the crack and had not cut the ends of the crack round. The crack had started to grow, came out under the patch at some point and catastrophe became inevitable.

The rear of the Heinkel was still completely intact, including the engine and the drive train. With a frame and front fork from the demolition and a spray can, I have covered many satisfied km's. After all, it was the Rolls-Royce of scooters.

My friend, driving behind me, saw everything happen 1st rank. He recently told me that he can recall the whole event very sharply in his retina and he expected that he will be able to continue doing that for the rest of his life.

Lessons learned:

• Even telling your parents the full truth is sometimes not good enough.
• Never stick an inner tube of a motorized 2-wheeler.