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I grew up in a family that loved camping and travelling light. By bicycle of course, we're Dutch after all. This way of life became natural to me. Already as a two year old I was seated in front of my dad on a little saddle on his bicycle, and even now I still prefer to sleep on the ground. By the time I was 13 years old I wanted to go camping on my own, and my parents believed in independebility. "Here's a book on camping, if you can light the paraffin stove without setting yourself on fire you are free to go". I have been camping on my own ever since.
I was done for. At home I drew a bike on my bedroom wall, and I wanted nothing more then a drivers-licence for a bike. Alas, my parents believed in independence, but also in sound advice, and I was willing to listen. They were not in favour of motorbikes. During military service I turned out to be to short for the bikes they had in the service. And then I started my studies, and there was no money...
Motorbikes drifted out of my everyday life, but every now and then the vulcano rumbled. I would meet people who drove a bikes. I learned that bikers came in different fashions. Some drove fast, some were cool, others drove summer and winter. Some had a bed with their name engraved in a hospital, others never had an accident. I even met biker over 50, I never realised they could get that old and survive. Shoppers came into fashion, and all of a sudden there were bikes in my size. But time and money were tight as ever. Camping continued, mainly in the Netherlands and with a bicycle.
I started my driving lessons in 1995, and by the end of 1996 I had my licence. In the mean time I had succumbed to the influence of bad company; somehow I had become convinced that only a BMW, and more precisely only an old BMW, was suited for serious travelling. Indestructible and easy to maintain, that was the ticked. The choppers that once caught my eye as low and befitting my shortleggedness were condemned to the more unfavourable parts of hell as back breaking and bad handling showpieces for would-be bikers. If it wasn't to be a BMW, at least a 'normal' naked bike would do. And I must admit, when I saw a test on a Honda CB 250 in a magazine, I immediately fell for it. The need for simplicity and minimalism runs deep with me. That was the original attraction of old BMW boxers -simple old fashioned hammer and screwdriver jobs-, and the CB 250 was as minimal and simple as a bike can be. The driving school had a CB 250, I finished my lessons on that bike, and within 2 weeks of getting my licence I bought a used a CB 250. YES!
And how did I like this minimalistic approach to bikes? Alright, it wouldn't give one a real power-rush. On a still day and level road it would do 120 km an hour. I once clocked it at 145 kmh, and uphill it would fall back to 90 kmh. My own 100 kilograms and all the camping-gear didn't seem to effect that speed, it turned out to be an aerodynamic matter. The lack of power and speed turned out to be more of a problem in daily driving the Dutch roads then on my journeys. Dutch motorways are crowded, and I missed the capability to get away from morons changing lanes without looking over their shoulder. On a journey I prefer to take small roads in the Pirsig way, and maximum speed on those roads is dictated by bends and surface of the road, not by available power of the bike. And on those small roads, the advantages of a small bike all of a sudden become very important. The bike was light and very easy to handle, a joy on wet grass or unpaved roads. Fuel consumption was absolutely minimal: 1 litres on 28 to 33 kilometres (1 gallon to 80-95 miles). I only needed a fill every 400 kilometers -250 miles- without a care in the world. After a journey of 8000 km maintenance costs fl 110,- How's that for cheap driving, what?
There was a drawback to this all. Such a little engine has to work at the top of his lungs almost all of the time. I drove it for 2 years and 30.000 km. It took me to the North-Cape and it took me to Scotland. It never led me down. But after those 2 years it had clocked 60000 kilometres in all, and if I was to turn it in and buy another bike, now was the time. Another year like this would render it worthless on the second hand marked. Besides, everyone kept chewing my leg on how this wasn't the best thing a biker could have. More power should be more fun. And I would like to have hard cases instead of bags for packing my gear. A drive-shaft instead of a chain also seemed to be a good idea. I still thought second hand BMW were to expensive, so I started to look around. Spring 1999 brought me the Honda NTV 650. Whether my legs or my confidence had grown I'm not sure, but the height turned out to be no problem anymore. I went for it.
By now I have this bike for almost a year and 18000 km. More power is more fun. And it is a good feeling to know you can leave morons behind by the flick of a wrist. The bike is slightly bigger and a lot more comfortable when I drive it for a full day. Almost to comfortable; I can imagine falling asleep while driving, unimaginable when driving a CB 250. The only drawback so far has been the bill, maintenance is no longer a matter of 100 or 200 guilders. Maybe it's time to learn a bit about the bike and start doing things myself...
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