On The Freeway

May 27, 2023

Before riding out of town I visit Rasmus, Andreas' friend and fellow motorcycle dealer. The man has a back yard full of them, some 70 odd of various types and in all conditions, ranging from a gold plated Honda Monkey bike to an H-D Electra Glide, and lots and lots in between. To me the 1960s Kawasaki W1 is the most interesting, because it was a license built copy of the BSA A7 500 cc vertical twin, but metric and presumably oil tight. 

Rasmus has had about 2,600 bikes go through his shop in the 9 years he's been buying and selling, a few of them being keepers. Like the small NSR250R two stroke Honda, which he doesn't have enough spare time to ride. Even if he thinks nothing can surprise him here anymore, he does wonder why so many of the non-runners he buys just need plugs screwed in properly - or even just gas in the tank - to get going again and get sold at a decent profit. He puts it down to the natives not being good at thinking outside the box, but sticking with the things they have learned only.

We chat about living in Japan, how his daughter Kira after being in English preschool learned the Japanese alphabets in a matter of weeks, Rasmus' career as a trained mechanic in Denmark and now having his own business here (long hours, seven days a week) and about where to get old. Both he and Andreas seem to have fond memories of Australia, so who knows, maybe that's where they'll end up.

Then finally I'm going the motorway towards Utsunomiya, starting with a two minute discussion in Danish and Japanese about how I'm supposed to pay the expressay charge without having the automatic ETC black box installed. Or maybe he's asking about my blood type - a month here and I still don't understand he lingo. In the end the toll booth guy thinks he doesn't get paid enough to deal with this shit, and opens the boom. Up the road I'm then going a steady 40 mph/60 kph for reliability's sake. While freeways by definition are boring, I now know the alternative all to well, so I actually enjoy it. 

An Indian Chief overtakes me, and right behind it comes an ex-polizia Alfa Romeo, the former probably heading for the same event that I am. The new plugs I put in back at the hotel makes the Nimbus run right most of the way, but again the thing starts coughing, indicating yet another set ruined. In town I install the remaining set and adjust the carburettor to run a bit more lean, crossing my fingers it'll be the last time I have to wrench on the bike (bike thinking: "You're going down, sucker..."). Hope I can buy some at the rally tomorrow.

An old airhead BMW GS, a large Harley and a Bimota are part of the backyard collection, as is the gold plated Monkey - already sold - below.

Tokyo land being scarce, it's surprising that Rasmus only pays $650/4,500 dkr for

 the place where he and wife and two daughters live.

Non running MV Agusta bought at the auction for $1,440/dkr. 10,000 was fixed with a replacement fuel valve in less than 20 minutes, probably doubling its value. With 5,000 miles / 8,000 kilometers on the clock, Andreas wonders if its the same that went through his hans some years and 600 miles / 1,000 kilometers ago.

'Girls und Panzer', a tv series about how girls learn to drive tanks in order to get the boys interested in them. (Not such a half-assed idea, as I would no doubt find a tank driving woman worth a closer look).

Left hand drive classic Alfa at a freeway rest stop.

Guy on small Parilla is also going  to the rally tomorrow.

Going for cheap hotels often has me looking for dinner in the more questionable parts of town. Like here, where a few dozen guys are crowding the intersections, trying to coerce salarymen and such into the bars and clubs, while leaving foreigners alone. Note girls on the right hand side of picture.