My memory is pretty shoddy at the best of times. However one of the earliest memories that I have was me grabbing on the side of a wire metal shopping basket, zooming around the block, wide-eyed and wind in my hair, of a neighbour’s Vespa. I must have been no older than 2 years old, but since that defining moment, was what got me hooked on bikes. Of course it would have been most likely at 20-30km/hr max, but it sure felt… FAST! And that, is how this little ducky fell hook line and sinker for anything on 2 wheels. I don’t have any photos from this period, but I sure think I looked like, but did feel like the famous E.T. scene when he’s being transported on the front of the bike.
Now, there’s plenty of stories out there of people that knew early on what they liked, and they were able to follow their passion from a very young age. That was not me. For my family did not have the funds, and we lived in the middle of a crowded city of a Mediterranean island in Spain.
So this is really not where the story started.
For that we have to fast forward nearly 30 years later for me to truly set the scene….
30 years later I moved out of home, and put a deposit on a house. Since I now had the space in a garage for a bike, and I was away from my Mediterranean parent’s eyes, I was then able to go get my rider’s license and eventually buy a bike. As a birthday present for my 30th, I gifted myself a manual car’s lessons and eventually an Open car license so I was then able to get my rider’s license.
As a second present, I gifted myself a couple of bike lessons and the compulsory training course to get my Learner & Provisional license. I failed my 1st test since I dropped the school’s bike, as it was not lowered and I was having a hard time learning how to do the bum slide off the seat, read the road camber in time. It was one of those veeeeeery slow motion drops, but none the less – I failed and had to repeat the test. From there it took me a little while to find a bike, as I was not confident, and I didn’t know anyone in the biking scene to help me out – other than my manual car driving instructor.
From there I found a little red 2001 Honda CB250 Nighthawk, which I kept for about a year, fumbling my way through and into the world of riding. But even then, that’s not where I feel things started. The ‘real’ beginning will come later in the Blog.