2 years of New Hoon, 9 years of biking

On valentines day this year, I will have had my Hornet for two years. Before you ask, I didn't buy myself a bike on valentines, but I did pick it up that day. At the time I lived at the other end of the country from my other half, so she and I weren't able to spend the actual day together and it didn't interrupt anything.

Two years have seen new hoon and me do a lot, running from one end of the country to the other. We've blitzed the lakes and the penine moors, we've run around parts of the countryside I never new existed and generally had a bloody good time together.
But it has made me reflect back on my time as a biker, and I realised I've now been biking for 8 years. Which given that I am only just 30, is pretty stunning. I know, I know, you've all been driving since you were 17, but I didn't bother. I went round Europe instead with the money I would've used. And besides, for as long as I can remember as a child (still am), I've only ever had biking in my soul.

So at 21ish, out of uni and into my first job, I finally got the chance. Did my CBT in the summer of 2004 and, with the grace of my parents, obtained my first ride. Unlike many who did CBTs I didn't want anything other than a geared motorbike (no scooters for me). So I looked around, and eventually found a brand new Kymco CK 125.

They're basically knock off Honda CG125's, but was a clear £800 cheaper and ran brilliantly. Of course, I loved being a biker, even though my trusty steed maxed out around 50mph and looked like a child's trike underneath me at times. I was proud to be a biker and drove it everywhere, which very nearly did for me, very quickly.

Two weeks into having the bike I drive it to scouts (I was a leader, before you ask) and a blue Mercedes pulled out of a side road in front of me without looking, and before I knew it I was on the floor. My memory of the event is fragmented because it did knock me out briefly as my noggin played with the tarmac, but I remember two things:

My worst fear, lying there, was that I knew full well that my father (with whom I should have got a lift, but I was stupid) was driving along the same route any minute and would find me lying there. He did, as the ambulance was picking me up.

The second thing I remember was a pair of feet appearing in front of me as I'm lying on the ground and me asking who in the hell just pulled out on me. The feet answered:

'Erm... That was us. Sorry.'

To be fair, the pair that were in the car were mortified (the guy didn't know what to say is all). His wife was driving and apparently she was so upset she had to be helped out of the car.

For my part, other than a lot of bruising on my legs (I had somehow ended up under the bike) I was largely fine. Now and even back then I bear no ill will towards the couple in the car, largely because it was a simple accident and they did everything possible to ensure I was ok and any damage settled. So the bike was repaired (not that there was much damage), I got a small amount of money (we only ever asked for a small amount because I couldn't work. I never wanted to extort money like people do now) and my biking went on.

Madly, I went about on that motorbike for about 2 and a half years. I remember once even driving it as far as Salisbury (and on a geared 125 that took a LONG time), but eventually all knock off technologies fail and when I moved to Preston in 2007, the bike swiftly let go of 2nd gear selection. Rather than get a costly fix for a now unsuitable bike, I did my DAS and upgraded.

Originally I wanted a Fazer. Loved those bikes, and was pretty set on one. But as I went into the Honda garage, I came across this thing sat in the corner, and my heart was set.

Now this was proper biking. I remember with vivid recall the first time I overtook a lorry on a full size bike. It was a tanker lorry on a country lane, clear skies, a brilliant view, and my instructors voice in my radio saying 'GO GO GO!'.

I never really stopped after that.

Its amazing the difference that it makes being on a full bike. You can go on motorways, you can carry passengers. You can, if you're very lucky, even look cool occasionally. But it's the way you feel that makes the difference. The bike is more responsive than any car. The movement of the bike is the movement of your own body and vice versa. The difference between stationary and 70 is a flick of the wrist. And whilst it is often a somewhat lonely experience on long journeys, it is worth it for the thrill of being able to run the roads the way bikers can.

One of the odd elements of it that car drivers don't get to experience is the amount you get to see. Bikers aren't restricted by bulkheads in their view of the passing world, and you'd be surprised what a difference this makes when you are arcing down a country lane towards a vibrant sunset, or over a ridgeline towards a verdant valley.

So I was sold on it. And the Hoon was my only mode of transport for the next few years. At one point I moved to Manchester and commuted to Preston with a car, but the Hoon was still my secret love.

Until October 2009, when she was stolen. The people that took her destroyed her lock, lifted her, all 150kg of her, over a garden wall, dragged her away and tried to start her. Failing, they did what all such people do. They trashed her. So when the bike was found a day and a half later, the handlebars were twisted, the ignition destroyed, the fuel tank wrecked where they'd tried to set her on fire.

I subsisted with a car from then on until early 2011, when thanks in part to my now other half coming with me to see some bikes on a whim whilst shopping, I got the bug and went and found New Hoon.

I'd always coveted the 900 Hornet even whilst on the Old Hoon, because of the extra power and the beautiful exhaust profile, so I deliberately looked for another hornet at that point, and found my little gem. I've been running on her ever since, having part-exed my car in order to do so. Sitting on that bike in the shop was like coming home. It was like Sheldon and his Spot.

Yes, we are far more vulnerable on bikes, but it is worth it. And it's not as dangerous as you think if you run sensibly. For all of the near misses I have had over the years (which aren't that vast in number), I have had some utterly amazing experiences whilst biking, and don't intend on giving it up any time soon.

Personally, I run on a set of rules that I keep to with rigid attention, and they've pretty much kept me alive.

1. Never overtake unless you can see all of the road ahead sufficient to cleanly overtake. Don't go squeezing down stupid gaps and don't try sliding round on blind corners on the central line. Always use the lanes properly.
2. Never filter along traffic at a total velocity of more 10mph greater than the general flow. And never filter once the flow is above 50mph (e.g. you can filter on a motorway at 50, but only if the flow is doing 40.)
3. When changing lanes, always check your blind spots. Preferably multiple times.
4. Wheelies, endos and other tricks are for idiots. The first, best and only achievement of biking is to get there alive and intact.
5. Expect drivers to be idiots. Most of the time you will be pleasantly surprised, but on the bad times you won't be surprised at all.

Of course, there have been a few near misses:

But they're more than made up for by the wonderful experiences I've had, the wonderful places and experiences the bikes have taken me, and the ones I will have to come.

I will continue to be a biker as long as I am able.