We passed these guys on the way to the beach on Java. I’m not sure what type of bikes they were riding or when they were made, but somebody made a wise crack about it looking as though they’d been salvaged out of the ocean after a century and everybody chuckled.

They reminded me of a modern day Indo version of a nineteenth century high plains drifter of the American West. The guy on the left, his clothes grimy from hours or days of riding, handkerchief tied around his neck to cut dust and debris in rough sections of the trail, he has his bedroll tied down across the back of his bike. His look is little different than the rough and tumble horsemen that once roamed the Wild West, but instead of a four legged beast he rides a two wheeled machine, an iron horse.

They were a pretty ragged looking trio but seemed to be enjoying the day better than most people. I gave them a wave out the window and snapped the shot just a second before the guy on the right gave us the thumbs up.