On Tuesday lunchtime, in the pissing rain, I jumped on the black bitch and rode over to Clapham to see Myfwt for lunch, it was chucking it down but nonetheless, the ride was good.
Yesterday I had a meeting in Bloomsbury, at midday I jumped on the black bitch in the sunshine to meet a client for a lunch, it was a sunny and dry, the ride was excellent.
On my return to the office I get a mail from my mate in New York inviting me to meet him in Manhattan at the end of the month, jump on a silver bitch to see the world land speed record in Utah, the ride will be 4000 miles there and back…
Immediately my head began to boil, I’m a crap traveller at the best of times and as I get older the thought of putting myself in any situation where the outcome could result in something negative occurring, despite the benefits, are simply unattractive.
Take into the consideration the expense of the trip, the hassle of having to physically undertake such a huge distance; the whole element of the ‘unknown’ screamed a loud ‘no’ into my stomach.
But I thought through it, this was the opportunity of a lifetime, even if it could contribute towards its cessation. To see America on a motorcycle, indeed, virtually the same machine as my black bitch, already organised by my mate in the states who himself isn’t the sort of chap to deliberately put himself in harms way, I’d be a cunt to refuse his offer.
In addition I’d have a chance to see some of the fastest moving motorcycles on the planet in a place synonymous with speed, the Bonneville salt flats, the inspiration behind the same of my favourite bike of all time… like I said, I’d be a cunt to refuse.
I need to start making plans.