Tag: motorbike

Two Wheels, 65mph, and Total Freedom

Andy Young1 Comment
Quad

Honda C90
VS 125
Honda CB100n
Various motorbikes
Sinnis Max 125

Motorbikes have never been about high speeds for me—they were always about freedom. Never going faster than 65 mph on quiet, single-lane back roads, but feeling 100% independent every time I turned the throttle.

It all started when I was 13, living in the countryside. Me and a friend took an abandoned, blue-and-white Honda C90 and rebuilt it ourselves. Having that kind of freedom at 13 to just tour around the Welsh countryside without a care in the world was pure magic. Looking back, I should have taken even more advantage of countryside life—I remember being terrified of the farm quad bike when I first got on it at 11, but once I got used to it, tearing around on it was amazing.

Eventually, I moved onto the roads legally:

  • The Scooter: My very first legal bike and my ticket to proper independence on real roads.
  • Honda CB100: Stepping up to a proper gear setup.
  • VS125: The bike that carried me through the period after university.
  • Sinnis Max 125: After a very long break from riding, I got back on two wheels with this blue Sinnis in 2017. Taking it out, including trips around Wales, brought all that old joy right back.

Right now, I don’t have a bike or a licence. But I am currently fighting to prove my health is managed far better now. Step one of my long-term plan is getting my licence back, and looking at these photos reminds me exactly why that goal is worth pushing for.

An embarrasing story

Andy Young3 Comments

Two stories stick out that I can remember, well, have been embarrassing enough to stick with me all these years.


The first was when we, the family, were in Turkey. We went on this super long bus tour to Ephesus. We stopped at a hotel along the way and they set out the tables in one long line. We all went to dinner after which me and slag wanted to explore the complex. I had to grab something from the room so I got the key from my mum. Ran down and grabbed whatever it was that I needed at the time. I ran back up to the tables and found my mum. I said thank you, kissed her on the cheek, hug and then ran off again. Turns out. Wasn’t my mum. Just someone with the same hairstyle. The whole table erupted with laughter. I was all of 10 years old. That was embarrassing.


The only other one, and I’ve been blessed not to have more, is when my parents went to St Lucia for work. Me and my brother were left behind and a family friend/worker Bernie was staying in the house to mind the water factory. So these were the days I had motorbikes. I got hungry and fancied treating myself so I went to the KFC in Colwyn Bay. Bernie went as well but didn’t realise. We were in the queue and talking. He went to order and ordered two big family meal bucket things, “Oh no Bernie it’s okay I want to order something else for myself, thank you though!”, Bernie stared at me “These are all for me”, “Oh, Sorry”, See Bernie was fat, not normal fat. Fat as in his stomach skin was splitting, bigger than a wrestler, two seats on a plane, break your scales fat. I was embarrassed to order my fillet burger meal ha.


Bernie was awesome. He died just before my dad did.


I miss them.

Bernies tummy

We will fight them on the beaches…

Andy YoungLeave a comment

Some things are worth fighting for and I have decided to stop being dominated by my fears and try my hardest to get out of this situation I find myself in. Memories to me are like cancer spreading through your mind and body. The good memories start to fade, or you get a twinge of guilt for thinking of something joyful but no. I will fight the hell out of my brain. I WILL have my good memories back. No more flashbacks, no more whispering in my ear. Because, well, fuck that. This isn’t life. Walking 100m and then needing to sit down. Not leaving my room because the outdoors scares me. No more. I won’t take it. I shouldn’t have to take it. So here are some good memories. They come from a time when I was single back in 2006. There is one of me topless. I aim to be that man again once I push past this walking problem.

These images might seem random and not what you think would be an important memory. Should they be of my children? maybe but I see them every day. These images act like a time machine taking me back to standing in a field of flowers, the scent, the wind and the peace I get from seeing that photo. The boots are from when Owen and I went out to Manchester, we were both living in Wales at the time, and I really wanted these, but they didn’t have size 12. Nor did I have the £120 to buy them. The motorbike parts that I ordered from Korea for my bike that I smartened up myself. Endless afternoons spent riding around the countryside without a care in the world. JD was a puppy who lasted 11 years, as a puppy he was awesome. I met J, R’s mum and we got a Molly together (a dog) I moved to Manchester rapidly and the family looked after JD. The pool in a hotel I used to frequent at work, I worked in Llandudno. Lots of hotels. Lots of pools. Then yes that’s me I used to think I was ugly in that photo. My body was my temple; in 2006-7 I treated it with no drugs, no drink, just rock climbing and the gym.

So in conclusion, screw you negative memories, here are some you will never take from me. Onwards and upwards.