Motorcycles mean much more to us than cold, manufactured arrangements of metal and plastic should. We're powerfully, irrationally, emotionally bound to our motorcycles, partly because thay're an expression of who we are - they identify us - and partly because we put our lives in their hands, literally. We trust them to get us home in one piece, late at night, after a hard day's ride. Or when when we are far, far away alone, in a foreign land. Are there any among us who don't pat the tank in silent prayer of thanks when we stop?Yup.
Thursday, 15 March 2012
And So Say All Of Us
I have been having some email chit-chat with commenter Bazza, and he has a sig line which I though worth posting here (with his permission). It's Simon Hargreaves, the Bike journalist: