Trike 21

Trike 21
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I’ll admit, I’ve been a bad lad in the past. No, I don’t mean I’ve mugged old ladies, broken into people’s houses to nick their stuff or fought with anyone who even glanced at me after I’ve had a pint-and-a-half of piss-weak lager; what I mean is that my driving record over the last 29 years is perhaps less than spotless.

Okay, so most of it did take place, it has to be said, in the dim and distant past and I haven’t really had too much to do with the motorised Aged William for something like 12 years now (you watch, I’m going to get feckin’ shafted next week after writing this for something silly). I know that, as someone who rides, falling foul of The Law is something of an occupational hazard, because anyone who rides a bike (and to a lesser extent a trike) habitually travels a little faster than perhaps most other traffic does, but even so, I did maybe, just maybe, take the Michael a little bit.

I remember standing at the junction of the A11 and the Norwich ring road being shouted at by a police officer who was so angry at me (for the speed I’d been travelling at) that his face went a worrying shade of purpley-red and he started choking and clutching his chest. And I remember a road block on the A14 that was set up to pull all bikes the day after I was chased by a cop car up there at speeds that probably would’ve had me being sentenced to an enforced stay in a small cell with a big bloke called Bubba. I also remember being called a ‘wanker’ by a police officer who’d caught me doing stoppies on my supermoto in central London, and being asked by another if I’d ever been examined by a fornicating psychiatrist (I think his exact words were, ‘are you fucking mental?’) after watching me weave me way through several miles of stationary traffic on the M25. Yeah, as I said at the top of this piece, I’ve been a bad lad (and I’ve suffered for it too) in the past and no mistake.

Now I had thought that all this was behind me; I rarely travel at much more than 90mph these days, and I can’t remember the last time I had a wheel off the ground or smoked up a rear hoop. But I don’t think it is – you see, I’ve got a new trike and it’s completely batshit! (Flick to the News pages and you’ll see a pic) It storms along motorways at 90-100 effortlessly, lights up the rear tyres if there’s so much as a sniff of moisture in the air, and can be drifted completely sideways through tight bends and round roundabouts. It’s a huge, fire-breathing, totally unsociable hooligan tool of the highest order… and do you know what? I fcuking love it!