Steel and Steed

Stalen ros is a Dutch expression used to refer to your bicycle or motorcycle. It directly translates to steel steed. An affectionate form of describing your vehicle, it expresses the bond between rider and machine, not unlike rider and horse, or steed. The knight in shining armour riding in on his horse, the cowboy riding into the sunset. As for staal, why not imagine a horse made of steel, with a chrome finish, and defined, hard, unstoppable, cold, supernatural muscles and abilities? Perhaps the next best thing to realistically access, other than an actual horse of flesh and blood, not to mention a steel horse-like cyborg, is a scooter. Yes, a huge discrepancy is born between the reality of a scooter and the fantasy of a steed, but it’s within the space that the discrepancy generates where the affectionate levity comes alive. It evokes a certain irony, an exaggeration in the form of an unreachable metaphor, but that’s not what it’s about. It’s about the feeling.

A steed is not a horse. All steeds are horses, but not all horses are steeds; the difference is that a steed is a horse trained and used for riding. The difference is also that steed sounds much cooler than horse. I would make the same case when it comes to the Dutch language: paard and ros. Etymologically speaking, the word staal or steel can be traced back to a term meaning that which stands firm ¹ (From Old High German ‘stahal’ meaning ‘firm, strong’). Funnily enough, the root of the term ros as well as horse is believed to originate from the verb to run.

Almost nowhere else is the relationship between owner and horse more influential than in the example of the American cowboy. This leads me in turn to bring up a controversial yet iconic figure: the Marlboro Man, or Marlboro Cowboy . The image of the cowboy in American media in the 1950s was going through a phase of Hollywood mythification, with legendary performances by icons of masculinity such as Clint Eastwood and John Wayne. The cowboy was now an archetypical figure associated with feelings of adventure, ruggedness, chivalry, freedom, and independence. Prior to the 1950s, cigarettes were primarily marketed to women with images of elegance and sophistication and seen as more feminine. However, in a marketing move that proved pivotal not only to the tobacco industry but marketing as a whole, Marlboro commodified and associated themselves with the image of the American cowboy, who had at this point had become an industry-fabricated cultural construct, with all its compelling allure and momentum. It was an extremely successful shift, and the brand found an appeal in a wide demographic, including women, but particularly men who sought feelings of adventure and rebelliousness. The cowboy in the wide-open expanse of the American West, taming a wild stallion, lassoing a cow, herding cattle through the snow, riding his steed on the dusty plains, staring off into the distance before lighting up a Marlboro cigarette. All this glamour and symbolism distilled into a single cigarette. It wasn’t simply about smoking anymore.

Fast forward a few decades to the 90’s, to put it shortly, big tobacco faced more and more pressure regarding public health concerns, and a series of lawsuits put an end to the level of influence and reach regarding tobacco marketing. Gone were the days of the Marlboro man and his mystique. Cady Noland’s Blue Cowboy, Eating (1990) perfectly embodies this fall from grace in regards to not only the Marlboro Man and the tobacco industry, but also the archetype of the cowboy itself and its place in pop culture . “Noland re-orients our collective ideal of what a cowboy should be—here he is caught awkwardly crouching while mid-meal, spooning food into his mouth rather than reaching for the gun in his holster. […] Noland frames the cowboy in a moment of vulnerability—his eyes glance toward the viewer with surprise, as if inadvertently exposed.”

While yes, fuck big tobacco, when watching the Marlboro commercials, I can’t help but appreciate the sexiness of it all. Some of that feeling comes from living in an age where the vast majority of advertising is reduced to visual pollution and associated with paranoia (and confirmation) that your phone is listening to you or your camera noticing how chapped your lips are, and then you “coincidentally” see an ad for a lip balm that you’ve never seen before. These assholes how the fuck did they know? But I digress. With a hefty scoop of romanticisation and artificial nostalgia, my maleness forgets everything else and allows itself to be seduced by the fiction and imagery of a bygone era. I’m going to assume that I don’t speak for myself in expressing these feelings. I don’t consider myself a smoker, yet I know how to enjoy the effects of it, both physical and social. I therefore seldomly join my peers in the sacred ritual of the cigarette pause. And I do mean the word “scared”. It has happened many times that someone expressed surprise towards it. “You smoke?” Or “I didn’t know you smoked!” I respond now with an ironic slogan drenched in a James Bond-like perversion of coolness: “I don’t smoke, except when I do.” Thinking about it a bit more deeply now, I like how it lets me engage in the present-day perceived status and smugness of the non-smoker, while shattering that through the hypocrisy and reminder that like everybody else, I am a child of God, a sinner, an ensemble of flesh and blood, engaging in self-destructive behaviour against my better judgement or, according to Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek, a hedonist.

“I claim that, in contrast if those conservative critics, who claim that we are entering an era of disbelief, of a godless world, of hedonism, I disagree totally. First, we don’t live in an era of hedonism, we live in an era of strictly controlled, regulated hedonism. […] The only true hedonists today are those who take drugs and, especially, for some strange reason, those who smoke.” This is an extract I took from a talk between Jack Miles and Slavoj Žižek . I distinctly remembered that passage about the smokers, as in a very Žižek fashion, he connected the subtleties of everyday life to larger abstract ideas about existence. He expands upon this point in an article he wrote , titled “Smoking considered as one of the fine arts.” The article opens with a presentation of the ideas of the Lacanian terms plaisir and jouissance. In the Lacanian sense, the term plaisir, quite like the word pleasure, serves to express the drive to avoid discomfort while seeking satisfaction. The term jouissance comes in as a contrast to simple plaisir, and refers to an intense, paradoxical form of enjoyment that goes beyond pleasure, often involving pain, excess, or transgression, sometimes to self-destructive extremes . The article read:

“The impasses of today’s consumerism provide a clear case of the Lacanian distinction between plaisir and jouissance: on the one hand we have the consumerist calculating his plaisirs, well-protected from all kinds of harassments and other health threats; on the other hand we have the drug addict (or smoker or…) bent on self-destruction. Enjoyment is tolerated, solicited even, but on condition that it is healthy, that it doesn't threaten our psychic or biological stability: chocolate yes, but fat free, coke yes, but diet, coffee yes, but without caffeine, beer yes, but without alcohol, mayonnaise yes, but without cholesterol, sex yes, but safe sex..." The point I would like to extract is how he is presenting and pinning against one another two different models of consumers. Let’s call the first model the Puritan and the following one the Hedonist.
If we come back to Chris’s semi-legal scooter build, I can’t help but see it as a hedonistic approach to personal transportation. Its appeal, in part, precisely comes from its transgressive nature, and like our Marlboro cowboy and his beloved cigarette, we find once more adventure, independence, ruggedness, freedom, and rebelliousness. We may even go as far as recognising the self-destructive extreme previously mentioned in the rush of speeding.

“No, you don’t see many wild stallions anymore”. This line from a Marlboro commercial is said by the narrator’s deep voice as the cowboy is contemplating the antics of an uncastrated male wild horse. If I may be so eccentric, I will equate the unregistered scooter to the wild stallion. A majestic beast you need to tame, only in this case not in the vast expanse of the untouched American west, but the overly designed country of the Netherlands.

Historical

Although the concept of placing an engine on a two-wheeled vehicle existed since 1919 with the Skootamota, post-World War II Italy became the birthplace of the primordial iconic scooter, Piaggio’s Vespa. Having to rebuild itself despite a destroyed economy and infrastructure, the need for inexpensive and practical transportation became essential. The scooter came as a vehicle that was affordable, easy to drive, and capable of navigating Italy’s narrow and bombed-out streets. It proved immensely popular, and many European countries encountering similar challenges followed suit. They became the economic vehicle of choice. The two companies at the top were the Italian Vespa and Lambretta, and despite many other countries joining the market, no one really could capture the level of charm of the Italian machines. As more and more consumers got their hands on them, it became more than a means of transportation; people started to have fun with them

To get a better understanding of what it was like, I had a talk with Tom Van Dalen, a retired art history teacher at the Willem de Kooning Academy, but more importantly, a lifelong motorbike enthusiast. It was a free-flowing conversation more than a proper interview, yet I recorded it and will paraphrase extracts of it. Some of the ideas brought up will have complementary development from my part to do justice to relevant points that were simply glossed over.

“In terms of scooters, there were only 2 brands, Vespa and Lambretta”. The memories started flowing back, and he corrected that statement by remembering scooters from the German brands Sundap and Heinkel, as well as a Czech brand called Cezeta. Let’s not forget Solex and Berini, which offered a small combustion engine attached to the frame of the bicycle and were strongly associated with vintage Dutch cycling. Nevertheless, they were quite awkward and dangerous to ride as they were very front-heavy.

Admittedly, Tom was more a fan of motorbikes than scooters. “When I started riding the bike, it was 1968, I was crazy about the English bikes, the leading brands were English at the time”; “I carried a bike up to the attic to fix it up at 15 and started riding at 16. I was into dirt track races.” The machines he went for were the English bikes, like the Triumph and Matchless. He would get his hands on them by buying them second hand from people in Britain who sought to sell them as they started to be able to afford a car. It seems buying them firsthand came as a practical economic choice; doing so second-hand had a layer of passion and interest.


“The bike would sometimes break down, but when you start so early with old bikes, you learn a lot about them. One time I rode my bike at 180 km/h for 5 minutes. I thought, if something breaks now, I’m finished.” When asked if he ever fell, he said, “I fell a lot of times, but I always had a helmet on. I was very anxious about that because a friend of mine died in an accident at 18, he wasn’t wearing one.” No matter the speed or duration of the ride, he always insisted on wearing a helmet, even though it wasn’t legally obligated back then. “Us motorbike guys at the time thought that scooters were a bit feminine, that they were for sissies, for guys who wore suits and didn’t want to get dirty. Of course it’s a ridiculous thought, but that was the idea.”

Remembering this perceived dichotomy led him to bring up the Mods and the Rockers. The Mods, much like the Rockers, were a British youth subculture defined by their sharp Italian-inspired fashion, love for modern jazz, soul and R&B, and a sleek, sophisticated attitude. They rode Vespa and Lambretta scooters, customising them with mirrors, chrome, and paint jobs, making them both a status symbol and a practical mode of transport. The identity revolved around looking effortlessly cool, embracing nightlife, and constantly seeking the next big thing in music and fashion.

The Rockers were about motorcycles, rock music, and having a rebellious, working- class attitude. They went for leather jackets, jeans, and heavy boots, drawing inspiration from American biker culture icons like Marlon Brando in Wild Ones. They modified their bikes to favour lightness and speed. These 2 groups are also known for their occasional violent clashes; nevertheless, it’s important to recognise that most of them never really caused trouble.

This isn’t to say that Tom and his friends were rockers or clashed with mods, in fact he thought it was a bit too crazy for him. Nevertheless, something about the nature of the machines came in as the perfect vehicle, pun intended, to help generate and define emerging subcultures. In this case, subcultures of teenagers, a concept that was developing at that time as young people were, unlike ever before, in a position of having both disposable income and free time. This led to them seeking to define and express themselves, simultaneously defining what it meant to be a teenager.

While trying to think of anything that could constitute a contemporary scooter or biking culture with Tom, I jokingly brought up electric scooters, namely the ones from companies such as Check and Felyx. The reason I say jokingly is I believe the nature of such service could never truly serve as a vessel for “scooter culture” the same way traditional scooters have. What differs them from a more traditional scooter is as follows: they are electric, they are built in a way where the mechanics are inaccessible, you rely on an app, you do not own it, and its software is programmed to comply with Dutch law in order not to exceed 45 km/h. Technically a scooter, and much like the purpose of the first Vespas, it offers an easily accessible option for personal mobility. It is a scooter, but a scooter reduced to a painful existence of simply being; no charm, no attachment, no personality, no stinky exhaust, no engine noise, no fear of it getting stolen, and no possibility of personalising or modifying the machine to one's liking. The link one develops so delicately with their machines cannot find its roots. If our wild stallion of a scooter previously mentioned aligns with hedonistic values, I could imagine the puritan contrast as being the domesticated electric rental scooter. “Yes, I ride, but only rentals on my app.” In order to get closer to the spirit of contemporary scooter subculture, I will have to look somewhere else.



Mv2stroke

What follows is an interview with Mick Videler, a 22-year-old mechanic who works from his own workshop, Mv2stroke, in Rodenrijs, between Rotterdam and The Hague. He was recommended by my friend Chris, as I needed a source to better understand the intricacies of scooter culture in the Netherlands. “At 16 I started riding, at 18 I started working on it myself and getting into it, and at 20 I started helping people with their builds. I’ve had this company for 2 years now.”

How did you get into this?

I wanted a scooter for a while and finally got enough money to buy one. One time I saw the receipt from someone who brought it to a repairs shop saw how fucking expensive it was, and I thought “No, I gotta do this myself”. That’s when I started working on my own bikes, and from there it all happened. What I like doing is full on builds and restorations, but to get the money for that I do repairs as well.


What type of machines do you work on?

I only work on 2 strokes engines11. What people bring here mostly is Piaggio scooters
2 strokes and mainly Piaggo. 4 strokes are more reliable but it’s not as much because you don’t get the sound from it. Almost all scooters are 4 strokes but to have fun with one you only need a 2 stroke.

What do you really like about it, what’s the most fun to you?

The most fun is to build something no one did before, with your own cool details and rare parts you managed to find, as a little showboat, you know? And the speed. The speed is very fun. When you’re doing 80 it feels like 120 in a car. And things start to shake a little bit. It’s also the process of working with your hands and seeing something come to life. It’s really fun to see the result of all this effort and money be completed.

What can you tell me about the community?

It’s fun, it’s a little bit toxic sometimes, which sometimes, makes it also more fun. It’s always a bit of a competition because you want to be quicker than the other guy, and it can be toxic because some people like to bully each other in group chats. But when you go to a meet-up and need help to get parts, do repairs or learn more, people are really supportive.

Tell me more about the models and details.

Mainly you have what I work on, the Italian Piaggio and all other Piaggio brands like the Aprilia and Gilera. Models I work on came from 1993 to 2003. It makes the parts harder to find and more expensive. A lot of parts don’t get made anymore, for example original panels are rare, they broke easily because it’s plastic but they fit really nice. You have after market parts from other brands that keep being made but the original parts are much better, some people travel to Italy to get the original stuff.

I’ve heard that some models are associated with criminals.

Yes, the Gilera Runner. Back in the day people used it for bank robberies, because it was fast and extremely light. If there’s a motorcycle cop behind you it’s the model where you actually have a chance of getting away. It became so popular that in 2000 to 2006, some people would go to Germany by train to steal a Gilera Runner and drive them back to the Netherlands. Then it wasn’t even registered in the Netherlands. People doing that were called the “Terughalers”. That’s where the stigma came from, but it’s not really a thing anymore because businesses are becoming more cashless.

Is It more about the building or the riding?


It’s a love-hate relationship. Sometimes I feel like I enjoy building more than driving it. But as I drive, I start to think that I prefer the driving. Then it breaks down, I have to walk all the way back home with it, and I hate it. Then I get some money to do the repairs, I get the parts, start working on it and loving it again. It’s an endless cycle.

What’s a trend you’ve been noticing?


Tuning is getting bigger. A lot of people want to go really really fast, parts are getting better and people are figuring out how to make an old 2 stroke go faster. So racing is coming back but some do it only for the wheelies. You also have more and more people riding around without license plates only to fuck with the police, and the police tries to figure out who the groups are and where they do their meet-ups, so these are always organised last minute.

Is it easy to modify?

There is a lot of information of YouTube, so it’s easy to start out that way. But when you start making racing engines, you really need to know what you are doing so that you don’t ruin your expensive parts, and that’s much more difficult.



Tell me about the practise of replacing a small engine with a bigger one.

Because a scooter is very light and putting a bigger engine on it makes it go much faster, a lot of people do it. You just need to do a few adjustments for it to work, it’s not like cars, where it’s much harder to do changes.

Don’t you risk trouble with the law?

The government needs to approve the paperwork when you do that because it needs to be registered as an actual motorcycle and not a scooter. You needs the paperwork of the scooter you took the engine from, and the one your using, then they need to approve all of it. They also need to check that it’s safe to drive, they check the breaks or if you have no bearings falling off. Then its registered and you get a number plate.


 What do you think of electric scooters?
It’s not that fun because you don’t have the sound or all the work you need to put into it to make it go faster. You get all the torque at once, so it’s definitely faster, and performs better, but It’s just a battery and a wheel. We like it when we see it but it’s not an actual bike that you can work on, there’s no an actual feeling for it. With the rentals It’s fun to grab them because they’re not yours and you can mess around with them, that’s about it, but people from the scooter community don’t care for them.

What do you think the future is going to be like?

You see a lot of young kids not getting scooters but fat bikes, so it’s gonna cool down, especially when the government won’t allow 2 strokes anymore. It’s not good for the environment so it could be coming. People will find loopholes around that but the future is not really that bright. For racing that won’t change, and the people doing meet-ups will be more scared and cautious. There are actual racing divisions, where people race on a track on private property, where anything is allowed, you don’t even need a license. In some cities like The Hague its not allowed to drive 2 stroke scooters, because its bad for the environment, people complain of the noise and the smell.

Do you think it’s also because of the type of people who ride it?


Also, there are people who fuck it up for the rest of us, its a small percentage but the bad voice is always louder then the good voice. Most people just enjoy riding and know when to shut the engine off. You have a few wannabe gangster with the nike tech and underarmour, but it’s all groups that are into it. I have clients of mine that are 40 years old who are into it because of nostalgia, they remember those models from when they first came out and who dress normally. You have the 17-18 year olds who fuck around with scooters and the hard working people who come by after 4 because they’ve been working all day and want to have fun with it on their free time, like a hobby.

Is part of the fun the rush you get when speeding?

Yes, but after a while you get used it. The thing with speed is that you get bored of it quickly. Although people never expect a scooter to be really fast, so when you’re at a stop light next to a motorcycle, of course they’re gonna race you a little bit, and they never expect you to be that fast on a scooter. So it’s fun to mess with people like that.


Do you have any crazy stories?

Not really. Well a few police chases, nothing crazy. The cars are easy to get away from, the really scary ones are the cops on the bikes, they train everyday for that and have their own academy for chases. When you see one you always slow down and pass by with as little noise possible. It’s the boogieman of the road.

Can you tell me more about the inventiveness of parts making?


2 stroke is not as developed because 4 stroke came right after. 4 stroke is better, it doesn’t use that much oil, it doesn’t break as much, and it’s more fuel efficient. But recently people are bringing the 2 stroke back and making them faster and faster. That’s where you have a lot of 3D printing and CNC machining to make all kinds of parts fit together. Most people pick the 2 stroke to have more fun, it’s faster on shorter distances. 4 stroke is more to go from A to B, 2 stroke is like someone’s toy for the weekend, so people want to spend more money on it.

Chris told me about the word beunhazen. Officially, it refers to unlicensed or unprofessional workers who do a job without proper qualifications, often in a sloppy or illegal way. While having the capacity of being used in a derogatory way, it can also be used in a humorous manner. Chris used it in an example where your scooter broke down, and you just have to somehow figure out how to fix it, try all sorts of things, and employ guesswork and actual work until you fix it. It then is used in an affectionate manner to describe working with your hands, despite whatever skills you may lack. While Mick is no stranger to a good beunhazen session, his knowledge and expertise as a professional regarding this particular field of mechanics are far from amateur. Yet, the love behind building or figuring out something with your hands and tools was no doubt present. “It’s also the process of working with your hands and seeing something come to life. It’s really fun to see the result of all this effort and money be completed.” It would seem that the puritan spirit is present all throughout the meticulous process of putting one together or working on modifications: “calculating his plaisirs, well-protected from all kinds of harassments and other health threats.” This approach exists in the practise of finding the correct parts, spending a bit extra because you want a certain exhaust with a rare finish, waiting for the paint to dry after coating a piece of the panel, diligently and tirelessly working with an annoying problem, getting the expensive oil for a smoother ride, figuring out all the factors at play between weight, horsepower, suspension, brakes, looks, functionality, etc.