Wobbler Alan lives up to his name!

Sam Hewitt

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26th August 2017

PART 2: Ted Bemand concludes his story about the Wirral Wobblers’ recent ‘invasion’ of Holland on their mopeds and autocycles.

During our big Sunday run in the Netherlands, the narrow 4ft wide Tarmac dyke top strips were also being used by walkers, some with dogs, along with joggers, bike riders and other moped riders too (well, Doug had to pretend his Black Douglas was only 50cc) and of course the inevitable happened. A couple of opposing parallel cyclists forced one of the Dutch riders off the Tarmac and he disappeared towards the water, luckily without injury – just soggy clothes and dented pride!

**The action squad gets down to a serious bit of wheelbuilding in a hotel bedroom after no fewer than eight spokes went ‘ping’ on Wobbler Alan Griffiths’ Honda 90.**

After 70 miles Alan Griffiths’ C90 started wobbling excessively, and back at base we counted eight broken rear wheel spokes. This was serious, being more than 100 miles from Europort and with no breakdown insurance!

Next day, action man Ben ordered a set of spokes and Nico lent Alan his two-stroke Zundapp (which he found far more ‘revvy’ than his C90) for a fairly quiet day’s riding, a ferry crossing to Haarlem, some sightseeing, food tasting and so on, and just 55 miles were covered.

Tuesday, May 7 was a moped-free day. Our hotel had a classic US Chevrolet school bus which we hired to get us to and from Amsterdam, about 16 miles away. As soon as we arrived I approached a boat tour operator and negotiated a decent discount on an exclusive party trip. Then Pat Keeling squeezed an extra few euros off the price – a potential Brexit negotiator?

Later we found the famous flea market, and a shop selling edible insects! Howard went off to see if there was anything worth liberating in the Rijksmuseum, and the rest of us (purely for the record) went off to do a risk assessment on the red light district. I tried to get a donation to our charity from one of the lady display models, but she declined, saying sweetly: “Sorry, no photos.”

A text informed us that the spokes had arrived – well done, Ben! – and between Madam Suzie’s massage parlour and a ‘gentleman’s service station’, we found a tool shop! Alan bought a Chinese junior hacksaw and a packet of British Eclipse blades.