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dt125r



I put my motorbike up for sale on gumtree last week but didn't get any interest (I thought).  In fact all the questions and offers I was getting were piling into the spam folder where I was deleting them without checking, as is my way.  There had been exactly 100 messages by the time I noticed, I discovered later.  So I put it on again - and put the price up - and again got loads of offers - so put the price up again (I obviously had no idea what it was really worth) - and started getting abuse for putting the price up.  I hadn't expected anyone around here would want a really old, tatty trail bike but maybe they do and will pay a fair bit for one, after all.
It's been unused for a year, hidden at the back of the shed, buried under duvets so it took half an hour to get it out tonight.  I pumped up the tyres and then pushed it down to the petrol station to get some fresh petrol in it.  Then it kick-started noisily alive and was bursting with curiosity and raring to go somewhere quick anywhere anywhere anywhere now now now nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
I rolled it to a deserted private road by the golf course nearby, at the back of the old Victorian grandstand and flew up and down to check the gear change and brakes. I'd not got the crash helmet and it was totally flippin' fantastic - a thrillingly wonderful explosion of joy.  Like being 18 again - but better.  On the same road where I first learned to ride a motorbike, one winter, all cold hands and runny nose and five miles an hour astonishment - why would anyone ever really need to go faster?  I can't believe this bike still worked.  It's been sat waiting for such a long time for this moment.  I couldn't believe also that I could sell it, I've had it nearly 20 years.


27th

Tom and his brother (looking like a young Bruce Springsteen) turned up to see the bike, having driven over from the liltingly lovely sounding Maston Trussell, maybe 70 miles distant. They were happy to take it but I insisted a test ride should be had and pushed it down to the private road by the golf course a few minutes away (quality exercise pushing a big heavy bike). The deal was done, money counted, exchange of keeper details filled in on the V5C and we loaded it into a van.  It was strapped down by the handlebars and another strap over the back rack, tied down good and tight to stop it shifting.  The suspension compressed a long way as the straps were winched tighter and tighter.  It was like restraining a wild bull.  I felt a huge sense of betrayal, that I was letting it go (even though the new owner is probably going to look after it and restore it and care for it far better than I have).  It's a bike that has never let me down, it always got me where I wanted to go.  And I was dispensing with it - after 19 years.  I kept wanting to say 'sorry'.  Until I eventually did and the doors were banged shut, hands were shook and I tried not to look back as I walked back to my front door.