Well, this is the place where such stupidity usually begins
My friend Birols Mechanic Workshop in the industrial suburbs of Ankara.
And this is how such ideas usually begin, by misusing the motorcycle lift :
My name is Andreas, Austrian, 47 of years and chief of Administration at the Austrian Embassy in Ankara for three years now.
In May 2011 I had visited RTW-Dougs place in Bulgaria and had been cut in the ditch by some cager there, resulting in a broken collarbone that made for a short riding season last year (though usually we don't care much about season, see the winter ride report in my sig line)
Birol than had borrowed the bike and burned a hole in the piston, old Ninja rider that he is. But anyway, the engine setup had not been ok or tuned to much to the anatolian high plains, to lean and no good for long distance highway riding. We had bought a scrap bike, changed the cylinders, worked on the jetting, etc.
The Bike itself is a 1994 Jawa police modell. A few had been imported for tests, but not accepted by the cops and sold on the open market.
After I had hacked my MZ 301 for the winter trip to Austria I didn't want to pull her apart again, as the setup was just perfect. So I needed a cheap solo bike and we found this one on turkish e-bay.
Birol, who had sold his sportsbike three years ago due to a costly divorce had in the meantime bought a Rotax-MZ 500, which had proven to be up to all situations thrown at it, including a ride to Georgia (the one in the Caucasus).
İn spring, we had made two trips to the black sea, one of them because I didn't get the vacation for our planned Balkan trip approved (had to take over for a colleague seriously ill).
For autumn I had planned a ride to eastern Turkey, as the last year of my tour here had already started ( our placements are usually four years, than you move on).
It was on coming back from our second black sea trip that Birol said ' the bikes are running well, even the Jawa will hold - we go to the meeting in Germany in October'
And so it was decided. I didn't object, as Birol is the master-mechanic - and it had at least come to my mind anyway that taking care of friends, which in our nomadic lifestyle are far to often left behind, is much more important than seeing old stones.
And so we stood outside the workshop on a Wednesday night
so after this long introduction, let's get rolling, rolling to this place
after I'm back from family shopping, that is