Sickly six
Anyone who has read my outpourings in this honourable organ will be aware that I am a massive Zed head.
Although the bike I have loved most is my 1977 Z1000A1, my Z1300 comes a close second. When I was 17, I was a dope smoking, long-haired, soap-dodging Hell’s Angel lookalike. I was also ruining my hearing with loud music and destroying my liver with seriously excessive quantities of alcohol. It was then I met some lads from Merthyr Tydfil who were doing some contract work locally. They were a bit older than me but seemed to enjoy my company and we enjoyed a few evenings in their digs frying our brains with wacky-baccy.
One long haired biker chap, by the name of Roger, showed me his pride and joy, a Z1300 in holly green: I was in love. It had such an imposing presence; the English language
