Joined a few weeks ago and have only just discovered this particular watering hole.
So, apologies for my slackness in hitting the bar, and I already owe some of you good people a drink for help/advice already taken on board.Anyway, time to pull up a chair, wrap your lips around the beverage of your choice and try not to fall asleep over my (not so) short and sad tale.
Been wanting to ride bikes since I was 16, but never had the permission, time or resources to learn. Hit double that age and decided enough was enough, so did a DAS course through the mean streets of London last October.
Being the cocky little sod that I am, I had already bought a shiny new blue 650ie a full month before I'd even taken the theory test, and arranged the collection date for the day after full test.
I've always fancied a Raptor, with it's blend of Italian flair, Japanease reliability, racous exhaust note and ability to handle the twisty bits, all combined in a beautiful, yet mean-street package. The rarity factor also played a part.
On the due collection date, clutching pass certificate and credit card in hand, I bought a one way train ticket to the dealer and picked up my new girl. It fealt very much like a first date, as I was slightly nervous, very excited and having to concentrate hard on controlling my naturally wayward hands!!
As it was the first time for both of us, we took the gentle option of A roads in the early days, as her parents said she wouldn't be ready for 2nd base until we'd covered 600 miles, and then 3rd base at 1000 miles. That time duly arrived about a couple of months later, when the feeling of eager anticipation was replaced by the thrill of going all the way (to the red line). I'm sure you all remember your first time...
The months passed as we danced our merry way across the tarmac, through fair and foul weather, getting to know each other a little better every day. The odd teething trouble aside (see my other forum posts!), everything was running perfectly. Until a couple of weeks ago, when tragedy (or rather, some #~@* in a car) struck - literally.
I got away comparively lightly with heavy concussion with a few bruises & scrapes thrown in for good measure. My girl however wasn't so lucky. I don't know how bad she is, or weather she'll make it, as the boys in blue are keeping her as evidence for the moment. They've only said that it's bad, but won't let me or anyone else near her until they've finished (or caught said #~@* - who didn't stop.)
Having had a fortnight to mull it over, if the worst comes to the worst and she cannot be revived, I will probably move on, but only when the time is right. It's what she would have wanted...
, mine has been through these traumas (plus the non stopping culprits) and is still as perky as she was when I took her for a test ride all those years ago
