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  1. The Birth of an Obsession

    I can remember my CBT (Compulsory Basic Training) day quite well; it was in the middle of a chilly winter in December. Most of the morning was spent freezing my bollocks off listening to an instructor waffle between drags on his cigarette he seemed to be immune to the cold, smug pillock.

    Riding the Honda CG125 was a challenge. Starting and stopping was fine, but when it came to changing up to second, changing down again before turning around (u-turn fashion) and repeating ...