We all do it, think about the what if I had the dosh? What would the hanger look like?
So having been thinking about it for ages I thought I’d come up with my biker’s dozen, the top twelve bikes I’d be out looking for once when those six numbers came up.
As a young rocker roaming around SW London / NW Surrey in the early eighties there were places of pilgrimage. The Winning Post for the biker night, the Graveyard in Twickenham for spares, Motique in Chertsey for chop bits, and Jack Lilley in Shepperton to press your nose up against the window and lust after what was on show.
The Ducati 900 SS dressed in its slinky black and gold was simply sex on wheels.
They had the full faired tricolor Mike Hailwood replica, but it was the stripped down long leggedness of the pure street racer that had me in its thrall from the moment I saw it.
It looked sexy, it looked exotic, and I wanted it sooooooo badly.