The Fab Four
From left to right, we have three members of the ‘Fab Four,’ Sam, Jordan and Lydia (guest appearance by German Scooterist Max on drums). The fourth member of the riding group, Emily, is on camera duty.
Jordan, Lydia and Sam were members of the infamous Young Guns Scooter Club a few years ago. They’re still scootering but aren’t quite so young these days.
Jordan brings us his story about a ‘simple’ ride to Germany for the Tortured Maniacs rally…
Iggy
When the first Lambretta scooters rolled out of a converted scaffolding tube plant in 1947, I doubt many would have predicted conversations like this would occur in 2025…
“’Ey up, Sam! Do you fancy a 2000km round trip to the Tortured Maniacs Scooter Rally in Germany?”
This would be a rather dull article if Sam had said no. In fact, there would be no article at all. Luckily for you, dear reader, the only and obvious answer to that question was “Of course!”.
Trials and tribulations
So, here we are! This is a story of oily hands, much merriment and breakdowns – of both machines and mind. For a week, we certainly were Tortured Maniacs…
Having agreed to meet up with Sam and Emily in Dewsbury before heading to Hull for the overnight ferry to Rotterdam, Lydia and I loaded the scooter and trundled over the Pennines.
Sam didn’t get very far before the panels were off. Luckily, a grown-up was on hand to help!
Teething troubles
With all the pomp and circumstance you’d expect to be associated with leaving for a European adventure, we ceremoniously fired up the scooters in Yorkshire, only to unceremoniously return after travelling a grand total of 500 yards. Sam’s Li inexplicably cut out several times, so the panels were off before getting off his street… After a bit of jiggery pokery, we decided to try again, this time more successfully. We hit the road and headed for Hull for the overnight party boat.
Afsluitdijk
Having made a flying visit the previous year to the Red Berets’ club rally, we wanted to spend more time on the continent and sample some culture on this trip. Therefore, the plan for the first day’s ride was to cross the ‘Afsluitdijk’ (no, the cat hasn’t just stepped on my keyboard). It’s a 32km causeway (with the Waddensee to our left and the Ijsselmeer to our right) to the German border and, ultimately, the city of Oldenburg.
Now, everyone loves a ferry, right? Once we’d figured out there was a short ferry crossing over the river Elbe, it was firmly on our planned itinerary before hitting the bright lights of Hamburg. From Hamburg, we would head to Barnstorf for the Tortured Maniacs’ rally, followed by a night in Düsseldorf before heading back home.
Bourtange
The plan may sound simple, but the execution when riding classic scooters can be fraught with unexpected events, as you will know. The first day’s ride certainly didn’t disappoint…
We made good time, and the ‘Afsluitdijk’ lived up to expectations by providing a spectacular riding experience. Ditching the motorway network, we hit the back roads and were rewarded with a canal-side ride littered with impressive shipbuilding yards and a break at the wonderful star fort of Bourtange.
There’s nothing more welcome than an involuntary piston change at the end of a long day…
Spanner in the works
While later in the day than initially planned, the day’s ride had been relatively leisurely considering we’d covered well over 200 miles. With a mere 50 miles or so left to cover, the sun had started to dip. We were all ready to reach Oldenburg and give our valiant steeds a break. However, my steed had other ideas and attempted to ‘bolt’ – and by ‘bolt’ I mean ‘seize solid’…
Aware that daylight was diminishing, we rapidly reached for the spare piston and had it swapped out within the hour. We did the repair on a cycle path, much to the bemusement of the locals. However, the Special spluttered into life on the 2nd kick and we hit the road again, feeling pretty pleased with our mechanical efforts.
Deviations
Watching the kilometres steadily drop, we began to believe we were on the home stretch… However, no sooner had we come to believe this than we found ourselves contending with a serious road closure. Judging by the number of flashing lights (and that the truckers ahead had set up camp outside their wagons), we consulted the map for an alternative route.
Still following the canals, the alternative looked simple: get to the other side and an alternative road ran exactly parallel. Easier said than done – the next canal crossing was further away than the map suggested and the road was basically non-existent… So, after a piston change and some off-roading, we made it to our first destination!
As is the norm for German scooterists in a country where legislation is very strict, Max’s Vespa was bog standard…
Hamburg
The next day was a more relaxed affair. The sun shone and the scooters behaved – other than a quick adjustment of Sam’s clutch cable. The highlight of the day’s ride was crossing the Elbe via ferry. We landed in Hamburg in good spirits, checked into the digs and headed to our underground parking. The secure parking was organised by a local young scooterist, Max, who I’d met at Mablethorpe the previous year.
As we walked back to our hostel, Sam and I partook in a bit of vintage Vespa spotting across the city, which turned into a relatively fruitful pursuit. Having freshened up, we headed out into the Reaperbahn and visited the St Pauli club shop before meeting up with Max for a tour of horizon-expanding sights…
Uber Odour
The next morning, being the modern men we are, Sam and I agreed to share an Uber to the parking to save carrying all our riding gear across the city. However, this backfired when the driver tried to claim we made his taxi stink with our two-stroke-stained riding coats and started to demand an additional cash payment. For the record, there was no smell; I just don’t think the driver was having a very good day. We stood our ground and complained to Uber when he finally left, resulting in us receiving a refund; oh, how the tables had turned… Max joined our group on his radical Vespa cutdown and we were ready to hit the road on the final leg before the rally.
Foul play
While battling the congested roads of Hamburg, the Special fouled a plug whilst sitting at some lights. This seemed somewhat contradictory when compared to the fact that it had seized the other day. How can it be so lean it seized, but so rich it can’t be ridden through a city?
Urban rides aren’t typically enjoyable, but the spectacular Kohlbrand Bridge certainly made for a memorable experience. The 3km long bridge with its 350ft elevation offered a superb panorama of the harbours of Hamburg port.
Mental breakdown
Sam’s Li cutch cable adjustment had developed into something a little more chronic, requiring several stops, placing him into an ever-darkening state of mind. The outer had, in fact, eaten itself and was pulled through the headset. Clever use of a washer and the problem seemed solved. However, the cable slipped once again. Sensing Sam was close to the group’s first mental breakdown, I took over mechanical duties and sorted the final adjustments. “Mint that!” exclaimed Sam when I checked in, clearly now in a much brighter mental state.
By this point, the roads had well and truly opened up, and the final 70 miles were pretty enjoyable, with long straights and satisfying twists. However, there was certainly a collective sigh of relief when we made it to the rally site!
Bimmelbahn smash
Anyway, tents were swiftly erected, bags unpacked, and it was time to catch up with some familiar faces. The weekend consisted of all the essential ingredients for a memorable scooter rally: Bimmelbahn rides, fun games and nighters. What more could you ask for?
It was only minutes after arrival that we witnessed the Bimmelbahn smash into the side of a Vespa, setting the scene for a truly maniacal rally. The frivolities soon started to get ‘fueled up’ when a 10-litre jerry can laced with punch appeared and was soon being force-fed to willing victims.
Recipe for disaster: Put drunken scooterists in charge of a small train!
Flying the flag
A curious difference between German and British rallies is how busy Friday night is in comparison to Saturday. However, that certainly doesn’t affect the entertainment value on offer for the second night! More Bimmelbahn rides (this time with derailments) were a must.
Train rides were followed by Korn Slushies and fun games. We attempted to fly the flag for the UK scene and compete against the Germans… Not sure what we expected, but as is typical in sporting engagements, the German team came out victorious!
Sam vows not to let his Leeds Central clubmates down in the drinking games…
Korn slush
Having travelled over 1000km to the rally, we received the honour of the Furthest Ridden trophy, while Max took the trophy for ‘2nd best’ Vespa. A great honour as well? I’ll let the readers decide.
For the Brits who questioned what the aforementioned Korn Slush is… It’s the perfect beverage to drink from the vessel of a Furthest Ridden trophy, of course! In all seriousness, it’s a corn-derived-spiked icy slush drink. That tells you all you need to know about how the night progressed!
Tears and Killepitsch
As Sunday drew near, the 250km ride to Düsseldorf didn’t seem quite as attractive as the ride to the rally…
Newly forged friends Steve and Anke kindly offered to carry our luggage in their vehicle and helped provide secure parking for the scooters in their home town. With the load lightened, we had a mechanically uneventful ride, arriving in Düsseldorf in good time. However, five days on the road, with two nights spent in a tent, had started to take its toll on the group. All I will say is there was a second mental breakdown that involved tears in petrol stations…
Anyway, with the scooters locked up, Steve and Anke took us to a beautiful traditional German restaurant for a much-needed meal. We were then treated to a guided tour of the city by Steve, complete with Alt bier and Killepitsch! Just what we all needed!
Flight of the Phoenix
The next morning, sadly, meant the final day’s worth of riding on the continent. We collected our scooters from the lockup and were about to kick them over when I noticed a sloppy kickstart. Not the kind of problem you wish to be greeted with when you are meant to be catching a ferry that evening! Something did not feel right, and I didn’t want to risk riding until the issue could be inspected…
We whipped off the chaincase side and, although we worked quickly, it was with grudging acceptance rather than the jovial excitement of the earlier piston change. Once inside, we diagnosed the issue: the chain tensioner had come loose, meaning the chain was flopping around when the kickstart was engaged. Without the safety of Steve and Anke’s parking (and associated workshop), the issue could have been terminal. However, after a quick call to Steve, in true ‘Flight of the Phoenix’ fashion, we had rustled up some second-hand oil and new fixings… After lashings of Loctite, we were on our way!
Making up time
This repair meant we were seriously behind schedule, but thankfully, the ferry check-in is open until around 7 pm. Not wanting to take any chances, we blasted down the motorways to the picturesque town of Brielle, a stone’s throw from the ferry terminal.
Auf wiedersehen
Here, we relaxed and had a spot of lunch while reminiscing over the week’s adventures. This, however, also meant saying goodbye to the continent. Not a permanent goodbye, as we will undoubtedly be back, but it marked the close to our group’s latest Odyssey.
Words and photos: Jordan
