16/8 My dear Scholli
Until 9 I still keep both eyes shut and head to the cereal, fat the boots, and Offjerechtsein to the ritual farewell coffee with Master Lutz in the workshop. Master Raik also drops by as a wink element. By my standards I get up incredibly early and say goodbye shortly after high noon towards Leegebruch. First, warm‑up with a good 200 km. Or we could say hot‑up, if you like, the midsummer is in full bloom and by the time you put the helmet on you get the first little sweat burst.
Theory: One go through the B2 via Heide and Fläming, then west around Berlin, and Scholle is already waiting with beer and pool in Leegebruch. In Beelitz a little pull‑stop, banana fed, and … crap! Big oil, where none belongs. Too much to just wipe away and ignore. Between engine and gearbox it sweats heavily. I linger briefly, have to think back all those years, how often on the day of departure I still had to change engines, propellers, or other stuff. Does it ever stop? I call Scholle, he should clear the operating table. I could also turn back, but optimism still triumphs over resignation in the hope that the cause only needs a tiny correction.
Up onto the Berliner Ring and, damn it: traffic jam, nothing moves. The planet burns and my face deforms under the helmet into a sour‑mood, simmering potato. The road is single‑lane and there’s no hard shoulder. I still start to carefully slip past the first cars. And contrary to expectations most make room, so I can at least fight my way to the exit for Potsdam. From there down, past the New Palais, and back onto the road at Spandau. And always the anxious glance down, how much oil will still appear.
I reach the yard with difficulty and need;
Under my butt the AWO was dead.
Well, it’s still alive, and quite well. Still, the patient came to the table and engine and gearbox were desecrated. Uh, split. Aha, small cause, big effect: the halter on the drive shaft of the gearbox had a burr that turned the lip of the shaft seal into kindling. A grind with the Dremel and a new shaft seal installed – for which my friend Scholle went out of his way to contribute to the revival of a new one – should hopefully eliminate the problem for the rest of the journey.
The pool unfortunately fell through, but there was a Scottish drinking water. Or two …
