The first sunny Sunday

Some things never leave you, some things, however distant, can return and fill your mind and senses in an instant with memories usually long forgotten, vivid all absorbing memories, the sights, the sounds, the smells, the feelings, all conjured up in a moment by perhaps a very small incident.

The first sunny Sunday is for me one such incident. The first sunny Sunday is not a fixed date, it is just what it says, the first Sunday in any spring where the sun shines all day and everything feels new, the tantalising promise of the summer to come, the Sunday when from an early dawn the sun is high in the sky already evaporating the dew, transforming it into a light veil hovering above the ground, a day when new lambs are rushing around madly, no longer huddled for warmth by their mothers, a day when daffodils bob their yellow heads gently in a light breeze and suddenly everything green seems greener.

But it is none of this that transports me to another place, that fills my head with long forgotten memories and alerts my senses, for me the first sunny Sunday means just one thing and yesterday, on my routine early morning drive to work some guy, someone I don't know and have never met turned my ordinary day into a very different one, just for a few minutes.

This is not a tale of great love or loss, not a tale of any world shattering event but it is a tale of a passion that once found is never lost.

It happened in a moment, a split second, without warning he was there, almost unbearably close, breathing down my neck, big and powerful and stunningly beautiful, dangerously exciting and offering a tantalising promise of things to come.

......And then in an instant he was gone leaving me lost in another time, lost in my memories.

But as I said this is no tale of a great love lost, my unknown man, he who inspired in me on this first sunny Sunday such memories was no long lost lover, no hero, he was merely an unknown guy on a bright gleaming all powerful motorbike who hung on my offside rear for that split second it takes at phenomenal speed to make the decision to 'go for it'!

Bright chrome and paintwork glinting in the early sun, expensive and matching leather race suit, harsh halogen headlight glaring at me from behind, the feel of extreme power rumbling through me, of tangible torque waiting to be unleashed for that split second, the sound, the sweet sound of a highly tuned 1200 cubic capacity 'doing it's thing' the engine whistle, the can popping with impatience, the gentle 'clunk' of dropping one cog.... and then with an almost imperceptible flick of the wrist my leather clad stranger was gone, leaving me almost breathless in his wake, lost in my memories!

For me the 'first Sunny Sunday' is not about lambs, it is not about gentle mist or bobbing daffodils but about the promise of dry roads, warm air and the possibility of a whole long new summer, released from the confines of snow and ice and biting cold, it is the memory of raw power, of excitement, of Friday nights at Chelsea Bridge, of Sunday afternoons at Box Hill, of hours and hours just riding, the high speed turbulence beating against leather, of (wo)man and machine in harmony, the smell of petrol and exhaust, burning rubber and knee sliders making their first contact with tarmac, the aching limbs and muscles, unused for months, to such punishment, the fear, for there has to be a little fear, the momentary frission of a rear wheel twitch......


Hey, you can take the girl out of the bike but you cant take the bike out of the girl!