Passion
Ever since I was a teenager, I have had an interest in motorcycles. In my early teens I bought a small motor that attached to the seat of a bicycle. A cable on the handlebars controlled the lowering and raising of a drive wheel which directly contacted the back wheel of the bicycle. My passion for motorcycles was born. From there I progressed to an old Honda C50. It didn't cost much, which was just as well because it wasn't much.
A tin of body filler, some fibreglass matting and a re-spray, it looked like new – almost. I spent many a happy hour riding my pride and joy around the disused railway property behind my home.
One day, after filling the petrol tank I forgot to put the fuel cap back on. The fuel tank for this model of bike is located under the seat. A three foot flame emanating from somewhere between the legs concentrates the mind somewhat. It brings a whole new meaning to roasted nuts. Deciding my future family was more important than the bike (tough decision I have to say), we parted company. I concentrated on putting out the fire on my leg, and dealing with a smouldering crotch, while the bike lay on its side impersonating a small coal fired power station boiler room. Future family assured, and leg fire extinguished, I managed to douse the burning bike with dirt, but the damage was done. One charred petrol tank and a burnt through wiring harness. I sold the bike to a friend who wanted the engine from it.
Since then I've been obsessive about fuel caps. Cars, bikes, aeroplanes, helicopters, lawnmowers etc., check and then check again. Looking at the world through a wall of flame tends to do that to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment