Herr Vetter, his wife, Waid, the Farmer's daughter, Teke(TKE at SDSU) LeRoy Zimmerman
on Herr Vetter's farm near Munich.
All behind $25 motorcycle--October '64.
Waid again (what a difference 37 years makes)
taken by a lopsided alcoholic friend of mine.
I bought the motorcycle, a 1952 Hoffman 250cc 2-stroke (Sachs engine) in a little farm community, Grubenzel, outside Munich. I paid $25 for it. The owner had ridden it for only 2 years, then hurt himself on it and never rode it again. It was 10 years in his garage where he painted farm implements. Results a dented tank and lots of over spray, but basically a near new bike. I spent 3 days cleaning it up, bought a new battery and helmet (pot metal outer shell, cotton webbing inside), cleaned the carb and squirted some oil down the barrel. It started on the third kick, and looked so great he wanted more money for it.

I rode it from Munich, to Innsbruck (site of the recent winter Olympics - 1964), Zurich, and home to Paris. Outside Innsbruck it started to sleet and I stopped, but then it seemed better. Back up to speed and again it was really coming down. 2 times before I realized it was my speed that caused more rain and ice to hit me.

I got behind a truck to draft him and get out of the weather. I was about a foot or 2 from his bumper and doing 55, watching his taillights. He ran over a 2x4 and scared the hell out of me.

When I finally got down out of the Alps in France, I stopped for gas. The proprietor of the gas station/cafe/bar saw the ice on my Levis and invited me to come in a thaw out, have a free Cognac by the fire. I was so cold I couldn't bend my legs enough to get off the bike. The owner brought out a customer and they laid the bike down and I crawled off. 26 years old and stiffer than I am now at 62.

Six months or so later I wrecked the bike in Paris; ran into a Mercedes that stopped faster than I expected at a light in the rain, just past of the Arch of Triumph. I hurt myself on the gas cap going over the handlebars, and the Mercedes driver's girlfriend had a good laugh watching me at the curb holding my crotch unable to speak. The driver checked out his car then left me there. When I could walk and talk, I went into a bar right there and asked in English, "Anybody want to buy a motorcycle?" I sold it at the curb for $35 with the front wheel and fork bent. Inconvenient mixing 2 stroke oil and gas? Not really. At that time all gas stations in France had 3 pumps, regular, premium, and premix. You dialed the mixture you wanted - say 2% to 6% oil- and the pump mixed it right in the hose. I don't remember if it was 2-stroke oil or regular 30W motor oil then as it was in the 60's.   -Waid

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Copyright 2001 Waid "Scooter Daddy" Parker
First Published August 12, 2001