We sat chatting with a loose interpretation of the Amsterdam 1,5. We were not five thousand. And we were not emailed at ministerial level. And we were lucky.
Nice and quiet here
As classic drivers from the largest province in the Netherlands, we concluded that we had little trouble with corona jitters. And would you like to jump over the border for high-quality alcohol-free petrol and slightly less high-quality, but in any case acceptable 40% alcoholic drinks? That was not a problem either. But we were amazed at stories from the non-classic driving circle of acquaintances. In an unclear way, they felt limited in their freedom of movement. We concluded that the corona jitters were mainly spread through the media and between the ears.
We mused about our motorcycle past and our health. When we started driving, the world was young and innocent. We drove a lot. We partied a lot. And the most common health problem? That was a hangover. But with such a pet between your ears and a somewhat protesting stomach you scrambled on the motorcycle the next morning. And after two hours of driving you were fresh again.
Fear is for mothers
At the time, the fear of scary things was mainly among our mothers. But we were young gods and therefore immortal. That's why it couldn't hurt at all that we drank and smoked. At least not usually. A friend smoked tapered cigarettes quite systematically. This usually made him calm, but sometimes manic. We accepted that as he accepted it himself. It only became painful when he started to mistake cars for kangaroos near Nederhorst den Berg. He turned out to hate kangaroos and annoyed he decided to kill such an animal. The VW bus was not manic and just kept thinking it was a VW bus. A college friend with a fancy double name was binge drinking 1.0. When he came to his student room the rats had eaten one foot. He hadn't taken off the other boot.
Civil courtesy and displeasure
A few years ago I posted a story about the fact that motorcycling involves some risk and that I therefore did not feel burdened to wear jeans and a T-shirt. That message was picked up on some motorcycle site. And I was doomed from all sides. I would be responsible for the high health insurance on my own, as an influencer as a bad example. I never knew I would be an influencer. I do not give advice, I hope I am nobody's example, I do not know about anything or anything. I just mess around. And I sometimes write about that. Apparently there were more motorcyclists behind keyboards than on the motorcycle. It was therefore quite warm. So maybe they were right.
Fortunately, there are also free spirits. Because sometime this year the same happened with a message in which I reported that barking around on damped two, three or four cylinders was now pretty antisocial. People wished me dead, bravely reported from behind the greasy keys that they wanted to slap me on the face and thought I was a petty bourgeois cock. Was ready for a walker and a funeral in a shallow grave.
It is not all that difficult
And that was then as motorcyclists among themselves. But in the meantime we were chatting in a garage. Straightforward muppets with a shared passion. A motorcycle was parked on the bridge. We had a beer in hand or on hand. Our biggest problem? My new daily driver, a Moto Guzzi V65, had tricks. Carburation problems. While keying in, we happily concluded that the Italians had come up with completely nonsensical things when building the little Guzzis. But why shouldn't it take three hours to change an air filter? The proud owner of a perfect Yamaha TX beamed over so much Italian ignorance.
A golden tip
The golden tip came later from another great thinker: the little Guzzis have a divisible frame. If you unscrew the case, you can lift off the top floor and the rear wheel, transmission and block will be neatly on the mini bridge. And then you can easily reach everything. By the way, scoring points at a Ural is also of almost Italian allure. It is easiest if you remove the front wheel, front fender and fork. There is a lot of suffering in the motorcycle world. We think.
Read more about classic engines via this link and more columns you can find the other link.
Beautiful scarf Dolf !!
There are an awful lot of keyboard knights who like to spit their opinions (read; gal) about others ..
Because just like picking your nose in your four-wheeler while waiting for a traffic light, spitting behind a screen is fairly anonymous.
In real life, they are the most respectable housefathers ore, separating their poo from toilet paper, otherwise the great tits will fly in the PFAS acid rain or something.
That's a tight statement!