Life on two wheels

Have you ever mentioned something in passing to someone in conversation on a particular topic, only to watch their face light up?

Have you watched this person delve into a huge speech about why this topic is amazing, elaborating on small, insignificant details that make no sense to you? Yeah, that’s me about motorcycling.

The amusing part of all this is that until about 2010, I’d never given a second glance to motorcycles; I was deeply obsessed with the V8 Supercars class of motorsport (and in many ways I’m still deeply in love with Holden machines!) It was my current partner, clever and conniving - who gave me what I call “the pinprick” - a taste that ignited a curiosity for more.

This pin-prick wasn’t overly complicated - it was a single ride we took together, from the north shore to my university in Kensington - a ride of about 35 minutes. We flew over a couple of bridges with some amazing views to the city, before weaving in and out of the awful traffic around the inner west suburbs. By the time I hopped off the bike, my head was whirring and I felt utterly invigorated. My partner didn’t say anything but merely smiled at me knowingly - an expression he wore subsequently when I asked to get on the back again… and again.

Eventually, I got tired of riding on the passenger seat and wanted one of my own - and the rest as they say, is history. (History I’m sure I’ll elaborate in further blog posts… wink)

There’s something special about the world of Motorcycling. It could be the instant family you acquire, willing to give advice and recommendations at the drop of a hat. It could be the instant street cred you obtain with the ability to rock up to something on this loud, thrumming machine.

Or it could be the wind in your hair, the smells of the street and the sounds of your motorcycle on every ride you take.

Whatever it is, I’m hooked. And I’ll elaborate about it all at length, in due course.