About meeting friends and roadside repairs

Well, this is the place where such stupidity usually begins



My friend Birols Mechanic Workshop in the industrial suburbs of Ankara.
And this is how such ideas usually begin, by misusing the motorcycle lift :


My name is Andreas, Austrian, 47 of years and chief of Administration at the Austrian Embassy in Ankara for three years now.
In May 2011 I had visited RTW-Dougs place in Bulgaria and had been cut in the ditch by some cager there, resulting in a broken collarbone that made for a short riding season last year (though usually we don't care much about season, see the winter ride report in my sig line)



Birol than had borrowed the bike and burned a hole in the piston, old Ninja rider that he is. But anyway, the engine setup had not been ok or tuned to much to the anatolian high plains, to lean and no good for long distance highway riding. We had bought a scrap bike, changed the cylinders, worked on the jetting, etc.



The Bike itself is a 1994 Jawa police modell. A few had been imported for tests, but not accepted by the cops and sold on the open market.
After I had hacked my MZ 301 for the winter trip to Austria I didn't want to pull her apart again, as the setup was just perfect. So I needed a cheap solo bike and we found this one on turkish e-bay.

Birol, who had sold his sportsbike three years ago due to a costly divorce had in the meantime bought a Rotax-MZ 500, which had proven to be up to all situations thrown at it, including a ride to Georgia (the one in the Caucasus).



İn spring, we had made two trips to the black sea, one of them because I didn't get the vacation for our planned Balkan trip approved (had to take over for a colleague seriously ill).



For autumn I had planned a ride to eastern Turkey, as the last year of my tour here had already started ( our placements are usually four years, than you move on).


It was on coming back from our second black sea trip that Birol said ' the bikes are running well, even the Jawa will hold - we go to the meeting in Germany in October'
And so it was decided. I didn't object, as Birol is the master-mechanic - and it had at least come to my mind anyway that taking care of friends, which in our nomadic lifestyle are far to often left behind, is much more important than seeing old stones.

And so we stood outside the workshop on a Wednesday night



so after this long introduction, let's get rolling, rolling to this place



after I'm back from family shopping, that is

I had hoped to leave work early and that we could make it to Istanbul; wasn't going to happen, the ambassador wanted a full briefing about ongoing projects. I couldn't really complain, as with our workload at that time it would not have been unreasonable for him to refuse my vacation application.

Anyhow, we had decided to go nevertheless as it meant being on the road - who knows when me might effectively get away next morning.
Just ride as far as we get; next day we wanted to stay in RTW-Dougs camp in Bulgaria, a rather long trip anyway.



My rear tire was a bit flat under the load, but the gas station compressor didn't work. Luckily the trucks around here carry compressors, and this guy was only the first of a row of help full truckers.



We had made it over the mountains to the small Town of Düzce when we called it quits long after midnight; the hotel was cheap and clean, and the breakfast typically Turkish, which is good but for the lacking coffee (had made some on the Coleman in the room before though)



room with a view



tightening the chain before Istanbul



tea break somewhere on the european side already



remnants of the past in Bulgaria



loaded with self-made ovens





on self made roof-racks





having arrived at Dougs place after a 750 km stretch a bit late in the night; for those who don't know her - this is Harley, the dog









Toys





an other traveller, Jens from Germany, coming back from Central Asia





a quick breakfast and we left Poly and Ivo to head to Serbia, where we want to stay with my old friend Slavisa. Doug was in the US, having just had finished the Canonball.





next :
Why are we going where and that on bikes a normal or better sane rider wouldn't touch with a bargepole

This looks good -- bring it on. Good to see RTW Doug's place.

In 2004 I was recalled to Vienna, having had my 3 postings to different countries.
I had started riding again in India, after having been a keen mopped rider in my youth and some small commuter bikes in Africa I had hardly ridden - my Dad had sabotaged me effectively when making my bike license, preferring to have a living son.



near Dharamshala; my brother and a borrowed Enfıeld to the left; my beloved TVS Fiero, a bike having been tuned and used by an Indıan Rally Rıder, Rhajeev Whadwa, in the Raid de Himalaya - unfortunately no chance to legalize that one in Austria


So I 'made' a license in India, which, after a practical test, was converted into an Austrian one.
And it was my wife that encouraged me to bring an Enfield to Austria.



And with the Enfield we are back at the narrative.
Trying to solve some of the technical problems that invariably come with it, I got in touch and in the end became a member of a loosly organised group of enthusiasts of old and strange bikes, the AiA, the 'Alteisentreiber iG' or 'Scrap-Drovers Association'.

a pic to illustrate : traillering the AiA way :



The point here is to not only have an old or Russian/Indian/Chinese made bike, but to really ride it.
Members do have other bikes, even Harleys have been seen, but it's about riding, repairing and sometimes customizing the old stuff - and taking part in some of the meetings.

The most notorious one is the 'Tauern-Meeting' at the end of January in the Austrian Alps -at the same time as the well known 'Elefanten-Treffen' in Germany, but at 1.750 meters - and not in the flat lands


Me and the MZ, Mehmed and the Jawa to the left

There are others and participations in 'Grab the Flag' races, and as AiA spread out from Austria, our German mates began organizing the 'northern meeting'.
But the main thing is the people - I've never met such a bunch of simply nice guys in one place. From the moment when Albert the 'Bulletwallah' after one Internet-chat brought me the Enfield parts I needed simply to my office mind you, a guy he had never met, I was hooked and went to a ride and at once I never felt so much at home in a group of people.
Want to ride with us ? Move closer round the fire, there's a new mate.
From Brick layer and chimney sweeper to Lawyer and museum director - just doesn't matter who or what you are

Albert and Uwe



I took part in the first 'northern meeting' 2 years ago, flying into Frankfurt, where Justus the main organizer of the meeting borrowed me a bike to participate and afterwards make a tour into Austria and to my parents.

Typical scene : trying to find a DNEPRs spark in the middle of the night; once they transfered a DNEPR fınal drive to an URAL - in a snow storm



Last Year I flew in with Birol, getting borrowed 2 Beemers this time and making a nice tour through the Austrian Alps



So this time we decided - or Birol decided - we do it as it should be done; arriving 'on the axle' as we say in German. 3.000 km on 'Scrap'

I'm speechless. This is just too cool, keep it coming. Danke.

Doug

let's start the new etap with some appetizers :

there will be food
lot's of food, and I actually didn't loose weight as usuall on a trip and as hoped


Foto by Oliver

and bikes, again lots of bikes



the rather less brilliantly colored fotos are usually made by Birol with his mobile phone

bikes, actually rather strange bikes sometimes, and the people who ride them



but we have still the 28th of September and a long ride through the Bulgarian Countryside ahead of us.



Yummy, that's swine on the lorry.
Unfortunately we often didn't ride the real small roads, which are real a lot of fun - to far to go to Slavisa's place in eastern Serbia.



but there were enough funny roads left







and on and on, kilometer after kilometer, hour after hour







I definitely have to come back to this beautiful country for a relaxed ride, before civilization as we know it takes over, here, too



stopping only once in a while for petrol, a cigarette and coffee







very much prevalent transport mode



approaching the city of Montana and getting nearer the Danube plain







petrol and some snacks at a gas station in Montana



empty or nearly empty soviet-style office buildings doting the landscape









and then very suddenly we were at the border, a very small border crossing near Vidin and a Bulgarian Border police office who rode a Jawa 250 for 5 years.





This was very much one pic after the other, but then that's somehow how this day was; riding through a beautiful country, but with time pressing down to arrive at our day's goal - somehow I have a bad talent to choose to long ride etaps, also on other rides

chow call, read you later resp. see you on the serbian side

Entertaining- thank you!

Thanks Andy for sharing. Pics are better with the story.

Cheers,
Ozgur

home late after a shitty day at work; well I took a good measure of serbian 'Lozovacka' (sort of Grappa) as an antidote and now let's continue a bit



after having crossed the border we head northwest, to Golubac on the Danube. The first kilometers are so-so, but then we enter the mountains and the roads are first class twisties.
Birol gives w.o. and takes a 20 min nap as is his habitude when we reach the pass.





My Serbian is not even rudimentary, but I think this spring was made by some family to commemorate it's members having been killed in the war, WW II that is.
I had been posted in Serbia in 1999-2000, from Nato Bombs to the ouster of Milosevic. Crazy years, especially for an Expat being payed in hard currency. Both my wife and me put on 16 kg due to the fantastic serbian food ( as long as you are not a vegetarian).
I still have friends from that time and we were going to stay with one of them.







just wonder how Birol made it to drive in the 2-stroke fumes; as I moreless knew the area, I rode in front here.

the sun sets and we are coming down to the Danube plain




dinner time, but I'll try to continue afterwards

Arriving near Golubac, we found ourselves even some gravel roads while shortcutting through small villages. Unfortunately no fotos



This was where we would stay the night, the 'Weekend' - House. Slavko had earned quite some money in the good old embargo days, smuggling in petrol from Romania.



But first we went to the village and dug into the Jawa, which had developed unhealthy noises from the rear wheel.




Slavko in the front

the tightening mechanism of the chain had loosened on the right side and so the wheel had wandered out of line and the chain was scrapping over the sprocket, which had produced an unhealthy noise for an unhealthy situation.
Additionally the spring inside the drum break had broken and was now happily scrapping away at the aluminum of the rear hub.



the Cagiva is a nice, completely original bike Slavko got real cheap - but without papers - doesn't matter that much in the Village, though



Then it was already a bit late, and the minds wandered - and instead of reassembling the Jawa, Birol started repairing the Mercedes.



Slavko had been told that the computer fucked up, maybe the Immobilizer, and that the car would have to be shipped to the main dealership in Belgrade - read that as $$$$$$$.

Within 10 minutes Birol had identified a broken sensor on the crankshaft feeding nonsense signals to the ignition computer.
Not expensive to buy and easy to mount.

so after a good days ride and work we retired with a few beers.

In the morning we had breakfast in the village - after I had had my coffee of course. Birol as a real Turk prefers Tea.



grilled meat, pleskavica, cheese.......



As we are not real Serbs, we didn't enjoy what those people are having



see the small glasses - yep, Rakija


Romania on the other side





those had been license produced in Yugoslavia, and a few are still around





back at the 'village house' we reassembled the Jawa



Birol working

Me sleeping


Slavisa is running a security firm, the Merc and those cars belong to that

there's also some agriculture still going on, especially sheep



late enough and not without a hearty meal we were on the road again. In hindsight I wonder why I didn't make more fotos here.







toll station before Beograd; our plan was to look for a hotel near the border. We had looked a bit in the Internet, which had not been conclusive, but I knew at least there was a good and cheap one a bit after the Croatian border - in the old days we had gone there to get lead free petrol for the service car, as lead free even the embassy was not able to get in Milosevics Serbia.

having Tea - freshly brewed nearly everywhere on the Highway, courtesy of Turkish truckers







a leak and a cig sometimes



and, late enough again, at the Hotel



just early enough for the Restaurant



the real stuff, 'mesano meso', mixed grill for me, whatever he chose for Birol





tomorrow will take us to my parents

as a goodbye, a Serbian Biker; Foto from this summer (car trip)




and at last, some more yummy things, from the same family trip



NSFV (not save for Vegetarians - and, seriously, maybe city Kids)

https://asphaltmueller.smugmug.com/...90271_hFtfHx#!i=2040989303&k=5FT7X2w&lb=1&s=A

becomes this

Thank you Andi
Lets make a Gourmet Ride to Serbia

a quiet breakfast

behind the Hotel



this time we got off late enough again - Birol was stuck in Facebook (I like books without faces)





on the highway again, no time for the potentially lovely Bosnian roads





wanting to use the bathroom, but the tourist bus was faster



we'd follow suite those guys in the background



a grey day on the grey anyway Slavonian plain



by chance we met a friend, colleague and customer (of Birols wokshop)



he had rammed some monument in Edirne, but most of the damage had been quickly repaired; some of the drive-train damage only yesterday, though



we had some coffee at this station

nice view



and on we go





deja vue



direction Austria; at least after 25 years the Slovenes have now some roads to show for the exorbitant tolls they charge



already on the Austrian side; Birols headlight had become loose in the fairing. Good we had enough of the universal spare - wire



On the croatian side of the border there had been quite a queue, but no one protested, when we passed between the lines of cars and trucks. Not the first time that it had come handy to ride a former police bike.



Outside the Gleinalm-Tunnel in Austria. As it was late - as usual - we stayed on the highway with it's toll-tunnels, and where caught in the next one - it closed down partially for cleaning at 8 p.m - we arrived at 08:03



one hour wait - arriving home and having at least a beer with my brother




I'm not much in form today and call it quit's; tomorrow evening I have to attend a reception, but maybe I can do something at the office after work hours.

I had promised roadside repairs - believe me, they will come, and some spectacular at that.
We are now at my parents place, a long days ride from the meeting.


a few glimpses



what Birol did I will explain later but Dad couldn't believe we would ride with such dirty plates.The good and honest man had never seen how Turkish Sports Bike Riders mount their plates



and Birol found an Airhead-Harley



and smiles that had come back after a -then - somewhat long time

Was that last picture taken, when the Jawa was back together ?

Man, I do have a talent for making silly faces... :huh

Please give some warm greetings to Birol, when you see him!

awsome, thanks!

Wow! Very different around the world, nice to see. Thanks for posting.

Bruce H, USA

so we where at 'home' - the house my parents built when Mom had at least forced Dad to give up his nomad ways, changing work and moving about every 3 years - which in the 70s, with the economy booming, was much easier than now a days.

The camper is my brothers, who had moved back to the parents due to his divorce going on and now was thrown out, as it was 'my' room in the basement he was occupying, 'his' room being used as Mom's store now.





Dad in the old days; maybe genetics do come through somehow; that's a Horex Regina 400, BTW, one of the hotter bikes in the 50s round here.



Birol's chain cover had broken, which meant the speddo wouldn't work anymore, as the gear was no longer held together, and, worse, grease was leaking on the tyre.
Those former east block bikes usually have closed chains, running in grease, which gives them a life expectancy of easily 50.000 kms. And the wheels are mounted in a way you can dismount them without touching chain and sprocket - those engineers had to ride the bikes themselves and knew what they were doing within their means.





We then had a look at my brothers garage; 4 bikes, none running



In the background the Honda Dominator I gave him when I moved to Turkey 3 years ago - hardly run in with a good 20.000 kms .



the XT 600 that he had used on our Balkan tour and the Kawa he had used on our Baltic trip (you could find the links in my profile)



sad

that' Dad's 'Ranch', a barn he rented from the Forest Service and where he keeps some of the firewood and the tractors and farm vehicles he collects now







Well; Birol had seen that the smoke coming out of my left exhaust had diminished. We checked the spark plugs and the left one was burned out.
The Jawa is extremely sensitive to correct spark plugs, and it was already impossible to get 'cold' ones (= hot weather types) in Ankara.



some absolutely respectable old time bike dealer had sold Birol those nice red chinese plugs, saying they were right for the Jawa - I think you realize where we are heading now.

But before I head to a school function and then a birthday party (of the guy with the Volvo some posts before) - and so it will be tomorrow until we come to this -



we follow Birol to a little excursion to a private BMW museum about 30 kms from my village. Dad had told him about and Birol wanted to scout out the area anyway, while I was lazy and wanted to spend some time with the family










this is the guy owning all those bikes;some of them the BMW - Museum in Munich doesn' t have. he made his fortune with poultry feed
He was very nice to Birol and showed him some things usually not presented to the public



like this Airhead-Harley already shown





what is Birol doing here ? More tomorrow

You guys are hardcore! Just wrench on your bikes and keep going...no BS. Great attitude!

Thanks for sharing

Captivating ride report , as usual . Thank you Asphaltmueller
-zie egret .

Really enjoying your ride. I do love the pics of the old Euro bikes.

from Great Lakes Region Canada

What a fantastic report!!! You guys know how to have an adventure. That, and you tell a great story too....

Thanks for taking us along.