I’VE BEEN TRYING TO REMEMBER WHEN IT last was that there was but a single motorcycle in my life. It was certainly very long ago, although I’m struggling to remember exactly how long. The mid/late 1970s, perhaps? As well as being annoyingly imprecise, my memory is increasingly random. I remember being utterly adamant that no one needed more than a single bike; a bike which would do anything, go anywhere, and generally fulfil every use anyone could have for a motorcycle. This is, as I’m sure you agree, the perfect situation. Or something.
Sadly, at the time, 1971 or so, most of my friends disagreed. Make that all of my friends. Adding a little octane booster to my memories reveals that, in fact, all of the riding compadres I can…