Motorbikes have always caught my attention, and not just because some of them are excessively loud.

For my whole life, my dad has been involved in motorsports. Riding a classic trials bike across streams and up rocks, and rallying a car around forest courses and dedicated racetracks. Unfortunately for me, these aren’t what I like. What I really like are road bikes.

I’m not talking about anything that threatens to shatter windows, or something you have to dislocate your shoulders to be able to steer. I’m talking about the kind of bikes that look sleek and smooth – they go past you in a blur, or skip the traffic by squeezing between lanes.

Essentially, I think most bikers look cool (more on that later). There’s an overlap with tattoos as well, so despite them being hidden by all the gear required to ride safely I ended up seeing a nice variety when I was looking at those. Riding a bike has always been something that I’ve thought about. But something that I’ve always dismissed as a possibility.

I was a late bloomer when it came to riding a bicycle. I didn’t master it until I was 10 and even now I wouldn’t say that I’m a confident rider (with the last time I rode being at least 12 years ago). I grew up clumsy, and risk averse with bad balance, I’ve never liked spending too much time outside. For me it was easier to stick to a Razor scooter when I wanted to get around on two wheels. Today I certainly wouldn’t feel safe riding anywhere but the local park, or a nature park that allows it.

When it comes to four wheels, I only passed my test in December 2025. Which wasn’t from a lack of trying – I had the bad luck of having my first driving lesson a week before the first lockdown in March 2020, and then the UK government decided to not extend theory certificates so mine expired the same day I failed my first test. A few years off to finish my degree and enjoy living in London was what it took to get me behind the wheel for a second attempt.

Both of these mean that my experience on a road is quite limited, with a hell of a lot more experience being a passenger than a driver. Even now that I can drive, the majority of it is spent on motorways. Driving up and down the country between my parents house and London.

When it comes to going somewhere new (and even sometimes somewhere I’ve driven to before) I feel a sense of dread (the same that I felt before most lessons) and put it off as much as possible. I’m sure this is something that will go away naturally with time as I get more experience. I like to think I’m a safe driver, and my black box seems to agree with me, but it’s still something I go through regularly.

Despite this sense of dread, when I think about riding all I can think about is how fun it must be.

I’ve never ridden a motorbike, despite my dad owning multiple (of the wrong kind). I imagine that riding one, you get a proper sense of speed and it gets your heart going and the adrenalin pumping.

I’ve been thinking about asking my dad to take me out on a bike, it’d be the wrong kind and in the middle of a field somewhere. But it’s the cheapest (aka free) way of giving it a go, and it’ll either tell me I was insane for considering it or confirm my suspicion that it’s one of the most exciting things I’ll ever do.

I’ve talked to some bikers with a lot of experience on the road, all of whom have been friendly and encouraging, with no regrets about riding. I’ve received some great advice from them, and they’ve all warned me that the roads are only getting worse (both in the quality of driving and the quality of maintenance).

There’s a limit to how safe you can be on the road, with defensive riding and the right gear (which for me is leather, textile gear looks ugly!) you can make sure you’re keeping yourself safe. But you can’t account for the other idiots on the road (amongst which I count myself). Especially in London.

I think learning to ride is something I’m going to do. And sooner rather than later. But when it comes to owning a bike, or riding regularly, that’s further off for me. I have nowhere in London to keep a bike, and if I did I wouldn’t feel comfortable riding it. I also don’t think it’d be very fun (and nor would it suit me) to ride it 3 hours each way up and down the country once a month when I visit my parents.

Keep an eye out for the inevitable post about what happens when I do actually get on a bike.