Before we traveled through Latin America on Chinese 250cc bikes or pushed Dandys across the Pamir passes, we started very “folksy” and “stylishly”. Our very first trip was on a 350cc and led to the Balkans. Everything that could break down did, but thanks to Czech folk creativity and DIY skills, there was essentially no problem we couldn’t get ourselves into and subsequently solve.

We’re going on a trip!

The excitement of the past week couldn’t be crushed, not even by a solid dose of hemorrhoids in the office. Even though the motorcycle season is only just knocking at the door, it doesn’t shake our morale — a liquid sweater will keep us warm enough!

We’ve finally earned our long-awaited vacation, and even if it can hardly be called a summer one, it’s still way better than sitting in an office.

We’re leaving the South Moravian metropolis — which has long since stopped being just a city and become a lifestyle — and heading to Třebíč, the Mecca of all travelers. Only there can we finish the final preparations and set off on a harsh, distant journey toward Bosnia.

Bosnia. Every Jawa rider’s face would twitch at the mere mention of that word. A land the tourist guides advertise with a simple but honest slogan: “It’s cheap and it’s close.”

Unfortunately, we’re running late, with no time to fix much — or even leave Třebíč at all. Pavel decided to entrust his machine this time to the local Jawa shaman, a two-stroke master and elementary school teacher, Pepa. Possibly the last Mohican of Jawa riders in the entire district. A true professional. What could possibly go wrong?

Packing: What You Don’t Have, You’ll Definitely Need

In the morning we try, as tastefully and functionally as possible, to strap the saddle bags onto the Jawas. Soon we’re competing in bizarre ways to attach all our gear to the bikes. We test for strength, safety, and — most importantly — aesthetic value.

Pavel hums his approval at Martin’s creativity but quietly points out that maybe putting all the heavy stuff on the right side isn’t the smartest idea. Meanwhile, Martin’s desperate attempts to balance the load are driving him insane.

When everything is finally packed — including spare cylinders and pistons — and our bags are stuffed to bursting like the compression ratio of a Japanese supersport, it’s a clear sign: time to go. So, on the bikes — and off we ride!

After a few meters, it turns out Pavel was right. The thing rides like hell — in a bad way. In no time we’re completely rattled by how much the rear end of these overloaded Jawas is wobbling. Riding further than to the nearest gas station seems nearly impossible, and there we passionately debate our options.

In the end, our unbreakable spirit wins over reason, and we head off into the gray afternoon toward the Austrian people.

Direction Fritzland — no turning back!

The whole time we’re rolling down the highway, it’s clear something’s wrong with Pavel’s Jawa. It just doesn’t want to go. The revs are flying to the sky, but the power and speed don’t match. His frustration reaches the level of a public toilet — because this was exactly why he took the bike to the Třebíč bike whisperer in the first place!

Pablo’s faith in these machines — or rather, in his own — is about to be put to the test. With the determination of Sherlock Holmes, he ponders why the damn thing refuses to move. From the sound of it, it could make it to Africa, yet on the road, we haven’t met a single machine we couldn’t be overtaken by.

We keep going, trying not to torture the Jawa too much. As a precaution, we loosen the clutch at the first gas station so we don’t burn the plates. Across the border, we pull over for a campsite — masterfully hidden behind hay bales, so that not even the sharpest Austrian cop could find us. We spend the rest of the evening digging into the engine, trying to figure out what’s actually wrong with it.

Austria Is a Beautiful Country

Waking up to the sound of furious agricultural operations is a smaller nuisance than that damned clutch. Morning passes in mild procrastination — we wave at the local desperado on his tractor, take a few photos… and inevitably our thoughts drift back to the slipping clutch.

The evening repair turns out to be successful — at least for now — and we can finally ride uphill. It’s chilly, but the light traffic and stunning roads make us forget the cold.

Austria is a beautiful country… That’s a bold statement. Have you ever been to Austria? Eighty percent of what you ride through are empty little villages with perfectly renovated houses — the only proof of life being a Mercedes parked by the gate. And let’s not forget the ever-present pig smell.

Fiasko

The rest of the story you’ll soon be able to read in our upcoming book.