I was seventeen when I got my driver’s licence. I could learn how to drive a car on Trev’s insurance and I could ride my own motorcycle.

I went round a few bike dealers and took a sit on a few different bikes. I quite liked the look of this kind of bike – the Virago 125

I, of course, wanted a brand new one.

Trev advised me not to have a new bike because I was only learning and… well…

I took his advice and bought a Honda CB100N

Quite a bit different to the one I wanted but it was a good enough bike and as it turns out, I’m pleased I went with this rather than the Virago.

A peculiar quirk of the English learner’s system was that you could ride a motorcycle with a passenger if that passenger had passed his or her test and had a full licence.

Trev had such a licence and therefore, sometimes, I would ride my bike with him as pillion.

Now, what we didn’t realise is that the law had been changed and it was no longer legal for a learner to take a pillion – OOOPS!

Not knowing the change in the law, off we’d go on my little Honda. I’d drink nothing but soft drinks at that time – mainly because I was under-age for drinking and the landlords knew I was. I didn’t drink anywhere else either, though.

There was a particular pub we’d go to where we’d meet up with friends and other bikers. The Sitwell Arms at Morton. It hasn’t changed much on the outside, but I’ve not been inside the pub for a few years – perhaps a revisit is in order…

One evening, on our return journey from The Sitwell, we encountered roadworks and a traffic-light system on our road home.

The roadworks consisted of a long, deep trench running alongside the opposite side of the road to us and we stopped at the bottom of a sight slope.

The map shows just about where we were (Left side of the road – UK, remember) the roadworks started around where the hand icon is and went up that hill. Not a steep slope, but steep enough…

I had to stop for the red light, even though there was nothing all the way up the hill for us to wait for.

When the lights turned to green, I set off. The little 100cc bike, ‘two-up’ with both of us, the slope of the hill – it all added up to too much and I stalled the engine.

I kicked it up again – and promptly stalled it.

“Give it more revs,” said my instructor-passenger.

I gave it a bit more throttle… and stalled it.

By this time, the lights had changed, a bus came past and I was getting impatient – with myself.

The lights turned to green again… and I stalled the bike…

Red light – AGAIN!

Green light…

“Give it more revs!” Trev said.

I wound-back the throttle and prepared to go shooting off up the hill in hard-earned triumph…

Instead, the bike displayed its annoyance at my ineptitude and popped a wheelie. Trev, being the more experienced rider, stepped back and off the back of the bike just as the angle of the Honda made it an easy manoeuvre.

I, on the other hand, clung on for dear life. Or grim death…

There was no way I could have controlled that bucking beast and, like Davey trying to ride Nibbler a few stories ago, I was on the road to ruin.

The bike ended up on its side and my leg and we were careering towards the roadworks ditch at the side of the road.

That ditch was six-foot deep – I know this for a fact because I got a pretty good view from under my bike as we teetered on the edge of that chasm.

Trev ran forward to help me and the bike up.

He rode it home; I’d hurt my leg in my stunt-rider debut.

There was hardly a scratch on my bike… luckily.

I was told something by a very good friend of ours and I try to pass this on to new riders or drivers.

When you start driving or riding, you have two bags to draw on.

One is filled with luck and the other is empty of experience.

You have to hope the bag of experience fills before the bag of luck runs out.

Very true.

One other thing I’ve learned.

Never allow your bike to go anywhere your mind hasn’t gone five seconds before.

In other words, keep your eye on the road ahead, watch for every eventuality and be prepared for the unexpected…

Such as a cow leaping from a field…

A group of us had gone to watch the racing at Scarborough – the track at Oliver’s Mount.

We were travelling along a road in a ‘cutting’ with high banks on either side.

Similar to this…

There was a field of cows on the left side of us and one decided to take a leap of faith just as we approached.

A full-grown Friesian cow landed on the road, blocking our path.

Tye, the rider in front stopped… well you would, wouldn’t you?

He looked back at us and we looked at the cow. The cow looked at us and we had to wonder at the damage it had done to itself. It was a good 10ft drop and it had leaped the fence beforehand.

It seemed a little bemused and quite calm, so we passed it slowly and went on our way.

The nursery rhyme ‘The cow jumped over the moon… I can see how that’s possible….

Images from Google