Table of contents

• Road trip through Germany In love with a borrowed bike
• Tear out another 500 additional kilometers
• “And your?” – “Comes from Thailand.”
• “You already know … with certain services”
• Would you just let your dream woman go like that??
• Different from what these Triumph boys imagine …
• “The mill runs on diesel?”
• Info Triumph Scrambler

Henniges

30th pictures

Henniges

1/30

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2/30
There are wonderful middle ways between cutting down a tree and leaving it standing.

Henniges

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The sun behind you, the freedom in front of your bike – the far north of Germany sometimes gives away more romance than you would like.

Henniges

4/30
Thirsty? But of course. A high pressure area caused sweat and thirst on the trip to England.

Henniges

5/30
Decision made: England remains the destination, only the route changes.

Henniges

6/30
Very British: deep green meadows, high humidity and happy sheep as far as the eye can see.

Henniges

7/30
“I want it!” Author Rolf Henniges actually fell in love.

Henniges

8/30
Please, go: promised, not broken – and still happy. Ultimately, the author Rolf Henniges is in England.

Henniges

9/30
The model has been on the market for ten years now, and the scrambler is often used as the basis for cool conversions.

Henniges

10/30
Was that planned? No, but that is what you get when you enter “shortest route” into the navigation system.

Henniges

11/30
Key question: buy or return? Rolf Henniges ponders while waiting for the Elbe ferry.

Henniges

12/30
The main thing is to protect your eyes: the dog Anna and her chauffeur.

Henniges

13/30
“She has a pulse that calms me down and turns hectic everyday life into a vacation”.

Henniges

14/30
Hardenberg castle ruins in southern Lower Saxony: Who doesn’t think of Great Britain right away?

Henniges

15/30
England! The Triumph Scrambler is supposed to go back home.

Henniges

16/30
Can an object or a machine become a friend? If so, how?

Henniges

17/30
The weather, typically British: threatening clouds, gloomy landscape, drizzle every now and then.

Henniges

18/30
Frankenberg / Eder – with a touch of British architecture: slated, tall towers.

Henniges

19/30
No, no water. Here oil gushes out of the ground. Where? On the oil road in northern Germany.

Henniges

20/30
Werner: “I’ve been driving my Hercules for 30 years. How long have you had your machine? “

Henniges

21/30

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22/30

Henniges

23/30

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24/30

Henniges

25/30

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26/30

Henniges

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The Ohlins suspension struts TR538, type S36DR1L, offer 15 mm longer spring travel and are puncture-proof. However, they are likely to respond much more sensitively.

manufacturer

28/30
… TR 91 with good wet grip and neutral rolling.

manufacturer

29/30
Tried: Conti TKC 80 with a cool look and slightly indifferent steering behavior, …

Henniges

30/30

to travel

Motorcycle road trip through Germany

Road trip through Germany
In love with a borrowed bike

What actually happens when, as a hardened motorcycle test editor, you actually fall in love with a borrowed bike? And don’t want to give it up again? A road movie.

Rolf Henniges

07/28/2014

Do you remember Klaus Lage? Touched a thousand times, nothing happened a thousand times? Exactly! But then, he continues to sing, at some point it did “zooom!”. Damn it, it was also “zooom!” For me! In love! And no explanation why. It can’t be because of your technical data. Because she is slightly overweight: 232 kilos. It is sluggish: 0 to 100 km / h in 5.3 seconds. It is rather powerless: 58 hp at 6800 rpm.

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In love with a borrowed bike

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No, we can’t get any further here with data and values. In theory, my great love should be completely different. More dynamic. More powerful. Easier. I know exactly what I want. Because I’ve already had them all. All! After 15 years of testing for Europe’s largest motorcycle magazine, I have ridden around 400 different bikes. The send. The fast ones. The expensive ones. The dynamic ones. And now that! An ole triumph, of all things Scrambler turns my head For a story I moved it around 8000 kilometers and now have to hand it in again. Just like all motorcycles that are made available to us by manufacturers or importers for tests or reports. Fate. For her. And for us.

It’s a lovely summer Thursday morning. The Scrambler should be back in its home country in four days. It has been agreed to transfer the machine to England. It’s more than an agreement. It’s a promise. A man a word. And that won’t be broken. As hard as it is for me. If you believe the calculation of Google Maps, I still have exactly 1090 km left to have fun with this motorcycle – the distance from Stuttgart to Hinckley, England. Including ferry from Calais to Dover. Provided you drive directly …

Tear out another 500 additional kilometers

No, not with me! No thought of driving the highway. Too boring. Too inappropriate. To the machine and to the separation. When the wheels roll towards the northern Black Forest and Karlsruhe, my thoughts linger again in the past. Everything revolves around our current one, which was created over the many kilometers we shared. Unwound in just 22 days, 19 of which it rained. Maybe not a good base for endless fun. But one to develop trust. The Triumph Scrambler never let me down. More than that, it felt like she was a friend. But can an object become a friend? And if so, how? Her sonorous heartbeat, the twin’s pulse, somehow reminds me of my blissful XT 500, of which I owned five. Back in the 1980s. As in a Jim Jarmusch film, small towns in Baden sail past that seem deserted in the freshness of the beginning day. Hardly a person or a car on the streets. Lots of time to think. How can I just extend this trip, delay the deadline? Look at the map: Of course the direct route is via Calais to Dover. However, one could also translate from Rotterdam to Hull – and thus scavenge at least 500 additional kilometers. I’m already in the Palatinate, so the decision is made for Rotterdam.

But first we go to a cafe on the side of the road. The sun is shining, a worn Hercules moped is parked in front of the shop. The driver who goes with him sits inside with his legs apart on a chair, and he’s having a hard time. Because Werner, that’s the name of the Hercules driver, not only has a few nice words left for everyone who enters the shop, he also weighs (benevolently estimated) 150 kilos. The chair groans with every movement.

Modern Classic

Comparison test: Harley-Davidson Sportster Forty-Eight, Honda CB 1100, Kawasaki W 800, Moto Guzzi V7 Racer, Triumph Scrambler

The slow must go on

read more

“And your?” – “Comes from Thailand.”

“Great machine with which you are traveling!”
“Can’t complain, no problems so far.”
“I can’t say that about mine,” Werner grumbles, “bought it in October 1985. Had to change the front tire five years ago, and a week ago the throttle cable broke too! But I don’t want to complain. When it’s really cold in winter, minus 20 degrees or so, my moped is always outside, you only need one step. Do that with yours, ”he grumbles.
“Mine has an electric starter.”
“So does it start the first time?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never driven at minus 20 degrees.”
“German workmanship,” mumbles Werner proudly and looks at his moped. The saddle is torn umpteen times, foam is oozing out, rust has eaten its way through the paint like a hungry animal. “And yours?” Asks Werner.
“Comes from Thailand.”
“Nice crap,” he growls, “and they’re unemployed in England. Damn new time. “

Coffee is steaming in the cup. I sit down with him and tell him about the 8,000 kilometers that Triumph has taken me through all of Europe and North Africa. Reports of days of rain, critical situations, adventures. And the fact that I can only part with the machine with a heavy heart. Werner’s Hercules now has 64,000 km on the clock. Invariably unwound on the way to Aldi, to the cafe and to work around the corner. “Boy,” says Werner, “if you two, the motorcycle and you, have had such adventures together, then you can’t just give them back. I have an idea… ”He pulls me close and whispers something in my ear.

“End of the line departure” – Book by Rolf Henniges

“You already know … with certain services”

Two hours later, I’m back on course north. My bikes roll through the smallest of towns and stand on the Ingelheim Rhine ferry in the afternoon. The crossing takes only a few minutes. A short time in which Werner’s idea suddenly no longer seems so absurd to me. I look at the machine. Looked at soberly, it’s like this: You can’t really drive the road – too heavy, poor tires, no performance. It cannot tour well – consumption too high, range too low. She’s not good at off-roading – poor suspension travel, poor shock absorbers. Although: The problem has been resolved. For test purposes, a couple of Ohlins shock absorbers have been installed, which not only respond better and dampen, but also have 15 millimeters more stroke. But what to do Head and wallet say: back to England. The gut says: off to your garage. Who should I listen to?

I listen to Werner’s advice. Fight my way through the starting rush hour until shortly after Wiesbaden. Now I am standing in the Taunus’ no man’s land with a question in a gas station: “Good evening. Is there an inn here? ”
“Well, not really,” says the roughly fifty-year-old with a boyish short haircut. “How am I to understand that?”
“I mean: not really serious. You already know … with certain services. The good guys have all gone down the drain here. “

I pay and meet a driver with a dog as a passenger at the pump. “Looks great, your scrambler,” he says, and it seems like the dog is nodding in agreement. I get tips for good routes and first decide to drive instead of sleep. Right decision. Because the Taunus is a place of pilgrimage for motorcyclists. Narrow, deserted streets beckon with winding roads. I swing the Triumph Scrambler from one lean angle to the next, listening to the unmistakable sound that sounds so beautifully like 90-degree V2 thanks to the 270-degree crank pin offset of the crankshaft. More than 4500 rpm is never necessary. That calms me. It is a pulse that calms me down and turns hectic everyday life into a vacation. In addition: every time I stand in front of the machine, I think it’s beautiful.

Modern Classic

Comparison test: Harley-Davidson Sportster Forty-Eight, Honda CB 1100, Kawasaki W 800, Moto Guzzi V7 Racer, Triumph Scrambler

The slow must go on

read more

Would you just let your dream woman go like that??

Especially when I wake up next to her. Just like the next morning when I crawl out of the sleeping bag next to her. A wonderfully enchanted pasture near the Lahn invited wild camping. A flock of sheep lounges around within a stone’s throw, the shepherd is leaning on a stick 100 meters away and staring into the distance. When he sees that I’m awake, he comes closer and proudly reports to me without being asked about his Norton Commando, which he takes out of the garage every few weeks to take it for a walk. I tell him that I have to return the Triumph Scrambler. “When you fall in love, you fight for love !? Or would you just let your dream woman go after one night? Think about it!”

It’s not about fighting I guess. It’s about overdrawing the account to buy something I don’t really need. Brabrabrabrab – the Triumph Scrambler vigorously shoots its thirst for action into the morning air. This happens via a raised exhaust system from Arrow, which sounds so wonderfully muffled. I’m free, a motorcycle I’m in love with, and beautiful stretches in front of the bike. Can a day start better? The fabulous feeling of lightheartedness is retained even when driving through Gieben. If I remember correctly, Giessen is the only city in the world that I manage to cross without having to stop at a single red light.

Different from what these Triumph boys imagine …

I pondered all night, now finally made up my mind and entered the route guidance in the navigation system, taking into account the shortest route. I will definitely keep my promise to bring the machine to England. But different from what these Triumph boys imagine …

Werner told me about a place called England, which is on the Nordstrand peninsula near Husum – only 700 kilometers from my current location. The first 150 of them will be rasped down in Northern Hesse. Here, between Gieben, Frankenberg / Eder and Winterberg, time seems to stand still. Covered by grain fields, peppered with whistling wind turbines, picturesque little villages made up of ancient half-timbered houses, connected by winding country roads. A paradise.

East Westphalia, on the other hand, is not my corner this time. Because under the premise of “shortest route”, the navigation system guides me through the middle of Paderborn and Bad Lippspringe. With all of what feels like 350,000 traffic calming downs, a million Zone 30 signs and a billion traffic lights. All red! Again my night camp is under a star dome before I continue north the next day. And that via the smallest of connecting paths, hardly wide enough to accommodate a vehicle, torn open by the frost. I pass lime-shaded oases, resettlers’ yards, red brick, with green window and door frames under stork-studded roof ridges. Stables as far as the eye can see. Places, often consisting of only two houses, with illustrious names such as Kaltenhofen, Quelldeich or Westhof. Here, of all places, the petrol warning light comes on. I sneak on but can’t find a gas station. Here in the outback. In a deserted area where you usually always help each other, you can ring the doorbell and the doors open.

“The mill runs on diesel?”

Ring four times. Nobody opens four times. Curtains flit to the side for a moment, may be the wrong day. So go on. The engine dies in the midst of gigantic pastures. To count the cows here, you need strong binoculars. It smells of pig breeding and freedom. In the distance, a combine harvester is brushing the fields. I set off on foot and half an hour later I stand in front of Polish harvest workers and a sullen-looking combine harvester driver.

“I broke down on the motorcycle. Lack of fuel. “
“We only have diesel here. Does the mill run with it? “
“Of course not, it’s a Triumph Scrambler that needs gas.”

He’s not exactly friendly, the guy in the driver’s seat. Instead, a Polish worker grins, runs to his 30-year-old VW Passat, reaches into the trunk, hands me his full five-liter canister and says: “You can keep fuel. Just come here, want to see motorcycle. “

What follows is a wild night of partying in a barn in the middle of motorcycle-loving Poles, who all marvel at my Triumph Scrambler and understand my suggestion: You don’t sell friends. And the machine has long been my friend. It is Monday morning when I stand on Nordstrand in front of the England sign. At nine o’clock I dial the number of my bank – credit department. Then the number of Triumph.

Info Triumph Scrambler

Henniges

The Ohlins suspension struts TR538, type S36DR1L, offer 15 mm longer spring travel and are puncture-proof. However, they are likely to respond much more sensitively.

The model has been on the market for ten years now, and the Triumph Scrambler is often used as the basis for a cool conversion. MOTORRAD author Rolf Henniges drove the machine 10,000 km and tried out two tires and a pair of shock absorbers: the Conti TKC 80 looks great, steers slightly indifferently, but always acts good-naturedly and offers a purely off-road tire an astonishing amount of grip even on asphalt. The Dunlop TR 91’s off-road properties are of course severely limited, but it rolls very smoothly, shines with neutral and precise steering behavior and is also reliable in wet conditions.

The tried and tested Ohlins shock absorbers are much too tight in their basic configuration and are more suitable for sporty bikes. But even if the comfort leaves a lot to be desired – they are definitely better than the original shock absorbers. On the other hand, the one-sided Touratech pannier rack (www.touratech.de), which is only manufactured on request, has proven itself unconditionally. The relatively high consumption of 5.6 liters per 100 km limits the range: with the 16-liter tank, the Triumph Scrambler can take stages of a maximum of 285 km.

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