for Klaus

I've been unable to shake the feeling that I needed to say something on Klaus' behalf to those expressing frustration at the manner of his death: that Klaus Niedermeyer died young not because of recklessness but because of fearlessness. Because of his pursuit of an epic vision of life. Because he was a kind of hero.

When we're told that heroes are fighting wars on CNN or edited into Hollywood reels it's not in keeping with the times to say this warm-hearted marketing director was a hero because of his riding.

But in the Greek world a hero is someone who overcomes his fears to achieve some epic end, always involving great risk for glory, and usually treading defiantly on the edge of gods' domains.

Klaus chose to live by these Homeric proportions in a realm few have experienced, one that transforms the ordinary into the epic.

In this realm life and death hang by split second decisions simultaneous to action, by the piloting of enormous relative power, acceleration and maneuvering potentialities--speed, sweat and adrenaline their byproducts. It is a surreal place, a time machine, where perception of movement 'outside' slows down while one's own experience remains constant.

The wind and the fury are deafening here.

This demigod-like flight is what Klaus experienced as a road warrior. It's a place where man was not supposed to be but where intrepids like Klaus dared to venture.

The most important thing I feel I need to say is that Klaus was no squid, not some kid on his new bike who got in over his head. Klaus was a seasoned and highly experienced rider. He had been riding for years with thousands of miles under his belt. He had club racing experience on the track. To have made it so long given his riding style in NYC without a prior serious incident is a testament to his riding skills and judgment.

As a road warrior Klaus rode close to limits. He was well aware of the risks, not only hypothetically but experientially. He had been in accidents before and knew firsthand the unforgiving and brutal force speed can wreak on your ragdoll body.

As with rock climbers, fighter pilots, skydivers, extreme skiers or commandos, Klaus knew these risks but legitimately decided to persevere despite of them.

I understand for many the reality of death or injury dispells any romanticized notions of high-performance street riding. I also understand that most avoid placing themselves in harm's way, often based on an illusion of immortality or a misunderstanding of the ephemeral nature of life. But this personal choice of safety over risk should not be projected onto, or used to judge, the few who have chosen to live their lives otherwise.

It was Klaus' life, Klaus' decision to live it fearlessly, and Klaus who must now be honored.

One of the things Klaus has reminded is that Achilles' spirit still lives among us. It is for this bravery in the face of danger and in pursuit of an epic purpose that I honor him as a fallen hero and fellow rider.

When someone pushes limits, he or she does so for all of us.

I believe that Klaus is telling us to value courage and not to succumb to fear. To ride the Aeolian wind like an ancient hero in the face of today's anomie, cowardice and banality. Klaus did pay the ultimate price for encroaching on Hermes' domain. But it is his sacrifice that gives meaning to the brave.

I hope I have not disturbed anyone, I just couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to speak for him on this.

My condolences extend to Klaus' family and friends. I learned of his death after the service and I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend.

I'll leave you Klaus wherever you are with my favorite futurist sculpture, one that represents the heroic vision of speed and machine that you embodied every time you fired your engine up--"a rushing motor car is more beautiful than the Nike of Samothrace" (Filippo Marinetti, 1909)--

and with my fav adapted quote about speed that I know you'll appreciate:

You need to ride. You need speed. You need to go out there, and you need to rev your engine. You need to fire it up. You need to grab ahold of that line between speed and chaos, and you need to wrestle it to the ground like a demon cobra. And then, when the fear rises up in your belly, you use it. And you know that fear is powerful, because it has been there for billions of years. And it is good. And you use it. And you ride it; you ride it like a skeleton horse through the gates of Hell (TN: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby)

R.I.P. Klaus 2-12-08

P.D. Spy

Friends of Klaus Network - New York meets Berlin

Alexandra, Mean Fairy and Sweet Dragon reunion in Berlin

Via Della Pace Last Night

Thank you to everyone who stopped by last night and special thanks to our Bruschetta Sponsors, Paul, aka Master Paul and Jelena aka the Mean Fairy.  

Paul - I just had some of those carefully packed bruschettas.  Never smiled so much while eating a bruschetta in my life.  My favorite is the one with yellow cheese and pruschutto.  We should go back and have some more. This one is on me.....really. No, no.....really.  

Jochen hope you are enjoying your bruschetta packet while Katinka is not there to cook her elaborate meals for you.  And yes....I thought of one word that you don't know how to say in Russian for sure.  

  

For the record everyone, there are two Pauls - there is Master Paul, who now also proudly carries his second nickname, which life imposed on him last night, Bruschetta Sponsor, and Cousin Paul, who I thought for months was Master Paul.  Yes... it got confusing last night. Right, Hector?  

Thank you again to everyone who stopped by last night to Klaus' favorite place.  And hope to see everyone who couldn't make it some other time....maybe at Via delle Zoccolette, which DJ Zenon Marko tells us is another of Klaus' favorite spots, just down from Via della Pace. 

Ciao.

Tanja

 

Die Road Kings Athens und Purq

Hey Klaus!

Ich habe lange mit mir gerungen, ob ich das hier schreiben soll, denn dieser Blog war mir eigentlich zu exhibitionistisch, aber unsere gemeinsame Zeit war doch mehr, als ich selbst dachte... Mit schnürt es immer noch die Kehle zu, wenn ich daran denke, daß Du nicht mehr hier bist, ich wundere mich schon selbst, denn sonst heule ich nicht so schnell.

Wir haben schon wirklich einiges zusammen erlebt, gemacht und viel gelacht - die "Road Kings Athens" waren unser Werk, zusammen mit Alexander Tsolakidis, Jannis Angritharakis, Manuel Petranzan und Ben Reimer ! Ich habe alles aufbewahrt - wie es eben meine Art ist - die Hefte, die Du im Schulunterricht gezeichnet hast, die VHS-Videoaufnahmen von der Kamera Deines Vaters mitsamt dem daraus selbst geschnittenen "Road Kings Athens Film" - Unvergessen!

Der Wechsel zwischen spontaner Begeisterung und nachdenklicher Melancholie machte Dich aus, und zu einem, wie ich glaube, sehr bewußt denkenden und handelnden Menschen. Letztlich hast Du, so meine ich, immer exakt das getan, was Du wolltest. Oft haben wir unsere sehr unterschiedlichen Lebensweisen diskutiert und neugierig nach den Ansichten des Gegenübers gefragt - Wie fühlt sich das an, Dein Leben?

Basis war die gemeinsame Schulzeit, aber vor allem die gemeinsame Entdeckung des Themas "Motorrad" - WAS FÜR EIN SPASS !!! So emotional und offen warst Du für alles. Viel gelacht haben wir über Drehzahlmesser-Fetischismus und den "einsamen Star Wars-Jägerpiloten" auf der Landstraße... Von der Kawasaki AR 50 über die so heiß ersehnte und NEU gekaufte AR 125 ging`s weiter bis hin zur "AR 1400", Deiner großen Liebe, dem Big Fish.
Ja, Du hast genau das getan, was Dir Dein Leben lebenswert machte ! ! !

Nun ist es zuende.

Meine Trauer ist vermutlich vor allem der Verlust eines guten Freundes für mich und die Anteilnahme an der Trauer Deiner Familie und Freunde - Du würdest schnell wieder nach vorne blicken und wieder lachen wollen !

Ich versuche das auch mal. Ich schiebe jetzt nochmal das Road Kings-Video in den Recorder und lache wieder mit Dir. Dann gehe ich die Garage und kicke meine alte Boxer-BMW an und fahre Motorrad, auch mit Dir.

Klaus, es grüßt Dich Dein Chrizzy Purq und mit mir die verbliebenen Road Kings -

Wir vergessen Dich nie .

Via Della Pace Get Together this Saturday

Hello Friends of Klaus

This Saturday May 3rd Friends of Klaus are getting together at Klaus' favorite place - Via Della Pace in East Village.  Any time after 8pm at 48 E. 7th street.  That's 7th and 2nd avenue. 

Please let me know if you plan on coming at tanja@krug2ke.com.  Via Della Pace would like to know how many of us to expect on Saturday.

Really looking forward to having all of us meet again. 

Tanja

My last video with Klaus - Nov 1st 2007

Hello friends of Klaus,

This video was shot last November. It was in many ways very typical of any night spent at Klaus' place. We listened to him play music, had tremendous conversations from everything from Greek and Turkish culture, martial arts, and of course women. We showed each other Youtube videos, each trying to outdo the other with laughter. I think I won because I made Klaus laugh so hard with these two videos:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=Wffwg7pA0t8
This video made Klaus laugh pretty damn hard. But this one made Klaus laugh the hardest, probably because he loved Darth Vader so much:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=5blbv4WFriM

I hope if you watch those videos you can hear his distinct laughter which was so heartfelt and full of joy

It's been more than two months and it still hurts so much. I can't believe I won't have another night at his place like this.




For those of you who don't speak German, Klaus says something in this video that strikes me as particularly poignant. When Kenan (my best friend and close friend of Klaus' from Berlin) says in German "So, we are all together once again"... Klaus strums his guitar and replies in German "It's just as it should be"... Yes Klaus, us all together is as it should be.

Then Klaus goes on to tell me that the WingTsun stance I taught him helped him when he was on stage, preventing him from bending forward due to his bad posture ;-)

I hope you all enjoy this video. It was filmed on a cell phone so the quality is not that great. Nevertheless, I have not been able to get through this video once without a tear in my eye.

I'm not religious or particularly spiritual, but I think I feel him watching over me. Some amazing things have happened. Du gibst mir die Kraft Klaus...

Ist aber immer noch sehr schwer... (it's still really difficult, nonetheless).

Klaus' photo now hangs in my office and right above the door to my school, the very same door that I first saw him come through when he first walked into my life.

Thanks again for the chance to post here,

Sifu (Alex Richter)

Collected Thoughts

So much time has passed... it almost seems more unreal now that Klaus is gone. In many ways perhaps even more so than before. I think what has made me more aware of it is the glorious spring weather that has finally arrived. Cousin Paul has already been out for a ride, and I am planning to join him soon. Perhaps one Sunday afternoon we can all gather up on top of Bear Mountain for a picnic lunch or some sort. For many of you, it would be a first visit, but I think it would be a great opportunity to see a slice of what Klaus enjoyed about riding, the roads, and the view from above. 

After Klaus sold the Princess Zephyria, he bought THE BANDIT. An interesting champagne color, it was the first generation Suzuki GSF 1200S Bandit, used with some light modifications and low miles. A bit lighter than the Princess, and more powerful also, with a better chassis that was more responsive, Klaus really enjoyed the Bandit. One little problem was the carburetors. For some reason, Suzuki had choked the Bandit with jetting that made it run strangely. No matter how smooth you were, the throttle response was always a bit temperamental. So, Klaus came to me with the idea to rejet the carburetors and make it run more smoothly. He purchased a jet kit, and dropped off the bike. Of course, things were busy, and I didn't start working on the bike immediately. I figured there was no big rush, since the weather was dreary like this past spring. Of course, a week later... the spring sun emerged, and Klaus was now urgently calling me every few hours to see when the bike would be ready. So, finally I invited him to come over and assist me with the process. I figured it might relax him to see how it all worked up close.

We began the procedure in the cozy confines of my garage (at my Mother's house). Simply accessing the carburetors was a bit difficult on the Bandit, as on my ZRX. Something about the design of a naked/standard that precludes easy carburetor access I suppose. After several hours and a few skinned knuckles, we had removed the carburetors. I am fairly sure they had never been removed from the bike. We drained the fuel from the float bowls (bottom of the carburetors), and then made our attempts to remove some of the vacuum hoses so we could remove the slide covers (top of the carburetors) and access the slides and needles. This is where we ran into an bit of a glitch... Since the covers were plastic, and the hoses rubber, they were fairly well stuck on each other. 

Three of the hoses came off easily, but the forth.... well, it broke it's mount. Now we needed to order a new cover, or else the bike would run like utter crap with a vacuum leak on the cover. Klaus was so so disappointed... you could see the sadness come over his face, and then his whole body. Well, there had to be another way for Klaus to ride. A bit of tinkering, and I managed to plug the vacuum port and seal the slide cover. As it dried we installed the various brass jets. Each of them were crusted over with mung from years of neglect (before Klaus took possession). We had to tap and prod and coax each jet to break it free and replace it with the new larger jet. Again, great care was taken to avoid damage to the carburetors. 

Klaus was fascinated with the entire process. The selection of tools and chemicals, the ports and passages inside the carburetors, the slide diaphragm and it's vacuum operation. None of it escaped his curiosity and wonder. As the Uncle, I had to explain each detail, each movement so he would understand why we were doing what, when.... And WHEN would it be DONE! For Klaus to sit still for so long (perhaps 5 hours that afternoon), while so close to his bike that he could not ride, was perhaps just torturous to him. 

When it was all done, I suggested that perhaps I should be the first to ride it... Just to see his reaction. At first, he was stunned, almost speechless. Then he realized I was sitting on the bike in shorts and sandals and a t shirt with no helmet, and he knew I would never ride without the gear. And he knew I was teasing him and he gave me the big smile as he pronounced himself the Test Pilot! When he returned from a brief ride, he was ecstatic. The bike was "totally transformed, it's AAAAMMMAAAZZIIING, so FANTASTIC!"

A week or so later we replaced the broken cover with a new one (I had installed it on the left most carburetor body so we would be able to change it without completely disassembling the bike). By now Klaus had put some time into riding with the revised carburetor settings, and it was still not quite perfect. So we began scouring the internet for more information. We tried removing the inlet snorkle from the airbox. We tried fitting a full exhaust from Yoshimura. Nothing seemed to work. Finally, we brought the bike to Hudson Valley Motorcycles, and let them work on tuning the carburetors. We got close, but in the end, the Bandit was never quite perfectly sweet running. 

Some of you wonder why... why this obsession with making the bike run better. Well, for Klaus especially, the entire experience on the bike(s) transported him through many dimensions. Any small distraction (like the carburetors not working perfectly) were magnified, and became even greater during this ethereal shift of reality. Klaus was always searching for THE RIDE. Where he could exist in "the zone", experiencing the world around him in a manner only the bike(s) could provide. For many of us, this is what makes riding so special, and so important. For many, it is hard to understand just how deeply passionate Klaus was about riding. A good saying among motorcyclists is "It's not the risk that makes the motorcycling experience worthwhile. Its the experience that makes the risk worthwhile." - And for Klaus, life was meant to be experienced in big chunks, with deep passion, and tremendous excitement.

 

As I gaze upon the open road, ahead are stars to light the way and signs to choose between. And behind, in the shadows, follow memories of those who shared my travels for a time. Even now as I sleep, and the roar of the wind whispers in my ears, I can see you beckoning me forward, motor warmed, magical transport awaiting.

Uncle Steve