80 Seconds

As the UK is known for motorcycle thefts, we felt pretty good about making it through the ABR Festival without hearing of a single bike being stolen. But the morning after the event, I looked out our hotel room window and saw a cut chain lying on the ground… but let me back up.

We had decided to stay one more night after the festival ended—just a chance to relax and unwind. One of the invited speakers, Henrietta Thiim (@fortheloveofwheels), joined us for the extra night. We first met Henriette along Namibia’s Caprivi Strip, then crossed paths again in Van, Turkey. She was riding a brand-new Suzuki DR-Z400, a loaner from Suzuki for the festival.

When we arrived at the hotel, we chained both motorcycles together just outside our room window. The bikes were so close we could almost reach out and touch them. After a good meal and plenty of conversation, we turned in for the night.

Around 1:00 a.m., I suddenly woke up with an uneasy feeling. I jumped out of bed and looked out the open window. Everything appeared calm. The bikes were still there, and nothing seemed out of place. I shrugged it off and went back to bed, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

About 45 minutes later, I was back at the window.

That’s when I saw it.

The padlock was gone. The chain lay on the ground, cleanly cut.

My bike’s alarm had been armed, yet the thieves had slipped in, cut the chain, broken the steering lock on Henriette’s bike, and vanished with it—all in about 80 seconds. The entire theft was captured on CCTV.

I knocked on Henriette’s door with the bad news, called the police, and headed out to search the surrounding streets. The motorcycle had disappeared without a trace.

The police took a report over the phone, and that was the end of their involvement. It was disappointing. The whole experience left us with the impression that motorcycle theft had become so common that no one seemed particularly surprised.

The next morning, Henriette contacted Suzuki to report the theft. They, too, didn’t seem shocked, acknowledging just how common motorcycle theft has become in the UK. She managed to arrange a ride back to London, while Melanie and I continued our journey toward Bulgaria.

The incident sparked a long discussion with friends about what people in the UK can legally do if they catch someone stealing their motorcycle. The answers were grim. Most felt their hands were tied. If you physically confronted a thief—even to defend your own property—you could find yourself facing legal consequences.

One friend, who shall remain nameless, carries a baseball bat in his car. He also keeps a glove and ball with it, just in case he’s ever asked why it’s there. The whole situation struck me as bizarre.

Perhaps that’s one reason motorcycle theft where I live remains much lower. We are generally expected to protect ourselves and our property within the law. I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but freedom is a funny thing. The more gradually it’s taken away, the less you notice it’s disappearing.

The following morning, we rode to the home of our friend Fern, north of London. She had generously offered to store our motorcycle while we flew to Bulgaria and even drove us to our airport hotel. After dropping off the bike, we enjoyed a nice dinner together and spent a few hours catching up before calling it a night.

The next morning, we headed to Luton Airport for our flight to Sofia, Bulgaria. From there, it would be about a three-hour ride east to Horizons Unlimited at MotoCamp Bulgaria.

This is one event we always look forward to. Over the years, we’ve made countless friends from across Europe, and many of them would be gathering there once again. MotoCamp has become much more than just another stop on the map—it’s a home away from home.

Cheers,

2WANDRRs