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Picture Gallery
Finding Katie
Within days, I had started hunting round for my new bike. One of the Absolute Musts was
that it had an electric starter, not a kick start. It took me a while to heal from the
kick start bruises and, sometimes, Boris had been so hard to start that my leg turned
to jelly before I managed it. My questions about this at bike shops raised more than
one laugh of understanding.
I had fancied a Kawasaki GPZ500 but having seen the spec was not comfortable with
riding so much power-to-weight ratio. It only weighed about twice my Boris, but had six
times the power. While hunting through bike magazines, I spotted the Virago and fell
in love.
I rang a lot of bike shops as I wanted to compare the 250cc and 535cc versions. I got
every response from You're too short to We only have one type.
Flitwick Motorcycles asked me what the size of my inside leg was and said that not
only did they had
both types, I might well be more comfortable with the 535. I went in and sat on them
both, and arranged a test ride for the 535.
I rode round Tesco car park which was supposed to be a quiet place: on a Friday
afternoon(?)! I played dodge the trolley for a while and was really surprised that I
didn't do a wheelie or feel way too small. I liked having both feet on the ground
(well, at least while stationary!) and I liked having a big bike.
I reserved Katie there and then - the registration plate was KTM, so she got her name
within moments. Saul at the shop saw me going back to have a look, and asked me if I
wanted her giftwrapped right now...
Riding Katie
In fact, I
eventually got her ten days later, delivered. Awestruck, I had this huge lump of
beautiful gleaming metal outside my home - and I was suddenly rather nervous.
I'd just bought new leathers, so I popped them on and went for my first ride - ten
whole miles! I carefully chose a route that involved nothing but left turns, then did a
very brave right turn, and I also honked the horn several times instead of indicating.
I was amazed at how quickly I got used to her, and haven't looked back since. With the
addition of saddlebags and the accumulation of miles, the bike I got in July 1996
became fully mine.
 People have asked me why I ride a bike, and aren't I afraid of getting wet? I
appreciate that rain is a feature of riding: being soaked to the skin from
Doncaster to Leeds showed me how waterproof leathers aren't, but when one
rides a bike, it's akin to a labour of love. There seems to be no halfway point with
biking; you either love it or are scared of it. Very few use bikes solely for
utilitarian purposes: they are way too much fun for that. Some of us ride in all
weathers (I do draw the line at snow!) To some extent I like cold weather,
because everything is so crisp and clear and it's always possible to wrap up just like
your Mam always told you to (though this is probably not what she had in mind.)
One ex boyfriend's mother called motorcycles Nasty Smelly Noisy Things. Her clapped
out old Ford made ten times as much noise, and rattled.
I've been called mad. I just grin, and say, Yup.
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