Ten years ago, in a year when Boyzone and the Spice Girls haunted self-respecting teens everywhere, I woke up from a larval adolescent stage and did many memorable things. And while sex, drugs and grunge had (and have) their own niches, the seminal event was learning to ride a motorcycle. Since, for the price of a few scars, a couple of cracked bones and two acrylic front teeth, I've gotten to ride some awesome machines, tour dozens of absolutely incredible places and even managed to earn a living off it - twice.
So considering this is the longest (ten months) I've been without a motorcycle in the past decade, I am going absolutely nuts. I tell myself the next few months are too cold to ride around in anyways, but it's all a filthy lie.. for reasons x and y, I'll be able to afford a bike only by March, which just happens to coincide with the onset of spring.
Besides, I live less than a kilometre from my workplace, a distance insufficient to even get an engine warmed up, and even I must admit it would be daft to pay £150 instalments for a bike and put in 25 miles a month.
Man, it's like being single after a string of fiery relationships.. and having a prosthetic hand.