MATES’ RATES

It seems an age ago now, but there was a time where 90 per cent of my mates owned enduro bikes and we all went riding together every weekend. We rode all day, utilising hidden fuel drums or fuelling up with petrol and sausage rolls at a servo. Most of us were of a similar pace and none of us could imagine a better way to spend an entire day from sun-up to sundown. And now, I’m the last one of that group to regularly ride. Be it through family or career pressure, the rising costs of riding or the myriad things that can take up a man’s time, each of my mates sold their bikes and had their weekends filled with other activities.

One of those blokes was Paul ‘Sneddo’ Sneddon. His life got stupidly busy with the birth of a baby somewhat late on the traditional time scale and a growing business that demands a lot of his time. Very rarely, he’d sneak a ride on an adventure bike I had for testing — I value his feedback and manner of presenting his thoughts, which is generally unfiltered. I could always tell the spark was still there; the love of riding hadn’t diminished, it just needed to evolve from the days of punting 300cc two-strokes around to something that suits any available free time and doesn’t represent as much of a personal safety risk. Not to mention