“I APPROACHED, PULLED OUT, DIDN’T BACK OFF FROM THE STOP AND, TOO LATE…”
claims they weren’t attracted to the glamour of motorcycling is a liar. A formative memory in my head is looking out a car window at a leather-clad cafe racer on a black-and-gold Norton and thinking that must be the fastest and funnest thing on wheels. I did not believe my parents when they told me why I should look the other way.
