You probably wondering why there is a Triumph Bonneville balancing on a cooldrink crate with a curious-looking Zimbabwean chap standing next to it. If you not, you should be because that is not normally where one would find a Bonneville.
You see this particular Bonneville was about 1200kms into a 4000km road trip when it had an altercation with a rock on the famous Swartberg Pass in the Western Cape. Although the actual trip started one day prior, the adventure started a few months before (the third of January to be exact). On this day I woke from a 6-day coma and after spending a few days catching up with life and coming to terms with the fact that I was not far away from death, which didn’t scare me. In actual fact I was quite relaxed with it, I spent the ambulance trip on the 28 of December taking selfies with the paramedic. What really pissed me off about nearly dying though was realizing my life would have ended without doing a lot of things I wanted to, things that are within reach but keep getting put off because life happens. I needed to get out of the rat race and escape. My one true passion for as long as I can remember has been motorcycles, so much so that I made it my career.
I can attribute a lot of my motorcycle knowledge to my mom as I spent most of my childhood Saturday mornings under the watchful eye of Peter Jovaris who ran the Ducati store in Bryanston JHB. My mom would leave me there in the morning, go off to do her shopping and come collect me before they closed at 1 pm. Peter, Mile, and Zoki would entertain question after question, the weekend after weekend as I tried to learn as much as possible about dry clutches, wet clutches, desmo valves and whatever else I needed to know about motorbikes. There was no denying I had an affinity with the Ducati brand but I liked and still do like all Motorcycles. I never understood when people said this bike is shit or that one is kak to me all bikes were a world unto itself and all had a place for us to escape.