On yer bike....

So I just sold my motorbike. I am now a maelstrom of emotions....

Back in mid-to-late 2008, I set about with unwaivering determination to get my motorbike licence. Which after a few knockbacks at CBT and full licence test level – I eventually got. A lot of money was sunk into those lessons.

As soon as I started lessons, I began telling everyone who would listen about how I would be this hardcore rider, subscribed to magazines. As I'm actually typing this out I can hear the proud new owner rev'ing the engine. Whoops I forgot to tell him that the rev counter dial isn't actually connected. D'oh. Although I'm not that bothered – when I mention how much I sold it for you'll understand (to come later... see, I'm creating suspense)

So anyway back to my motorbike lessons. I started these when Karen and I was on my many breaks. I think in hindsight that she was definitely my motivation (even though we were broken up) as she used to swoon at the mere sight of some dude swaddled in an all-in-one leather suit astride his super sport bike. My jealousy knew no bounds. Also, what surprised me, was no matter how much of a sh*t her ex was – she would recount the tales of her riding on the back his bike with her eyes glazing over.

I think part of my motivation would also be because guys with bikes were a bit of an attraction to the fairer sex. Although I kinda wonder now, what type of girls (maybe part of my bitterness towards Karen)

So after I passed my test. One of my ex-uni mates Ike (who I must point out is a lovely, genuine guy) said he'd sell me his old bike as he just got a new 'fixer upper' and wanted to focus on that. £400 – done. I was stoked.

Problems I had was the practicality of it all and the fact that the bike gave me nothing but issues since I had it. I managed to ride it a few times to my weekly footy kickabout with mates. But then battery issues started to occur. There was no charge going from engine to battery -so that needed work. When I was sorting other stuff out I needed to replace the rear tyre (it was almost bald) and a host of other things that saw me need to sink another £400. Ike was geniunely sorry and couldn't believe the issues I had – I just think it was because he used it everyday – whereas my usage was recreational.

Other practicalities included the fact that the bike was improbably heavy (heavier than normal bikes I had test rode) anyway, the fact that I'm a short-arse as well didn't help. I dropped the bike a few times – and when I was going to ride to Karen's to support her on some half-marathon (we were still on the break then), the front brake came off in my hands. Luckily, it was near to home – but happened on a main road and shook me up. I called Karen and said I couldn't make it. She asked about taking the train, I said I wasn't in the frame of mind. We had the worst fight in the world and that's when contact stopped (the last time). So yeah – some painful memories attached to this bloody bike.

Also some good memories, which makes me a little sad. A little later on, when we had got back together - Karen gave her unbridled support to me selling the bike as I wasn't riding it. Other practicalities had arisen, specifically that I was working out of town during the week and the weekends were spent with her. The bike needed time, care, attention and more money to iron out it's niggles – I just had enough of it by that point and wanted rid. So I put it on eBay, through much prompting and support from Karen. I managed to get a final bid of £500 on it. I was stoked. Excited. Making money on the bike! (Well not really if you count how much I spent on repairs and that – but still......)

So the prospective buyers came along. Had a look at the bike. I went to the bike place and got a new battery for it (£49 – ok still a £50 profit though!). We got it started with the charge and that – things were good. Then the guy's (who was a new rider and had his arm in a cast) friend took it out on a test ride – the so-called 'experienced' rider – dropped it at the junction. We ran to his aid. The f*cking front brake (that I paid £10 to get replaced!) had sheared off. No worries.

This is where my world fell apart. The experienced rider put it at high revs and said he thought he heard something weird. I couldn't hear anything and wondered what he was using as a benchmark. He had admitted he hadn't owned my make of bike before. Also a new rider wouldn't even get into those high revs. So for stop-gap it was fine.

They then asked for private time for a chat. The guy with his arm in a cast came to me and said they wouldn't be buying the bike. Here's the odd thing though – for such a forthright who demonstrates typical Mediterranean traits when he's been done wrong, I did not act as I normally would. I smiled and said I understood. I don't know why.... maybe because there were 3 of them (his dad was there) and they were a little chavvy? I had spent 5 hours that Saturday getting the bike prepp'ed with them. Spent £50 on a battery. I was gutted. More gutted than angry – but the anger with them soon developed. I'm still miffed about it now. They didn't even offer to pay for the broken brake. Why did I let them get away with that? Idiot.

So I was gutted. Karen was angry that I hadn't given them more stick. But I was just so drained by the rejection that I probably didn't have any fight in me. In fairness, Karen was very supportive of me and she did try (in vein) to get me to put it back on eBay and get it fixed up. But I was so afraid of going through another experience like that. I didn't. I left the bike to rot in the backgarden. That was April 2009 when that happened.

I'm moving place soon, so I needed to do something about the bike. I actually dreaded the rigmarole of having to list it and meet prospective bidders, and had been putting it off and putting it off. But then last night – just before midnight – something happened. I just got my head down, wrote all the things wrong with the bike and that it wasn't roadworthy and listed it.

I decided to list it for a buy it now price of £50. (After £800 spent and all the effort – you now have a flavour of how much I wanted to be rid of the bloody thing) and put it on there for 10 days, because I didn't think it was an attractive prospect, a broken bike with no front brake and the fact that someone would have to come pick it up (especially with the deep freeze we've been having lately). It was sold within 5 minutes.

The guy contacted me asking when he could pick it up. I said Sunday was good. As I said – he left not long ago. I also had another guy saying, 'If you don't sell your bike – I'll take it off your hands for £100' (I don't know why he didn't just bid for it – maybe wanted to do a cash deal like this guy). But to be honest, it was no longer about the money – it was more than that. It was what the bike symbolised – good and bad times with Karen and closure on them, wasted effort, knockbacks, unfulfilled dreams (maybe sounds a bit dramatic).

Also, I couldn't take my bike to my new place. So again, practicalities. The thing is – looking on the positive side – I got my motorbike licence. So if I ever have the time, money and inclination to pick it back up – I will. We'll see. It's funny how a story about a piece of machinery has lead me to learn so much about myself and also from my mistakes relating to it and also, to feel so much now it's gone.