The Ride
By Stiv Bagnall

I sat with my cup of coffee and watched the sun rise slowly over my town. My thoughts littered with the plans for the day ahead. My friend would arrive in 10 - 15 minutes, i'd bring my 650 twin to life, listen as the pistons thumped. see the sun glisten of the freshly waxed yellow paint, before slipping my valentino rossi rep helmet over my ears and swinging my leg over my sv. The day was planned immplicably well, we knew the route and liked the pace we both rode at. The day was going to be a joyous occasion, high speed thrills linking into technical masteries throught the tight twisties of the local b roads. The sound of twin race cans woke me from my dream and i glanced out the window as my friend pushed the side stand out, before swinging himself upright off the 2002 honda sp-1. I picked my keys up and left the house.    

Within 10 minutes we were pushing each others abilities, the larger capacity of the sp-1 and almost double the power of my sv meant that keeping up on the straights was difficult, but the sv's exceptional balance, handling and a massive weight saving reeled the 120 bhp beast in at every corner. I knew that to even try to match the accelaration of the 1000 was futile, content instead to make a mockery of its handling, taking corners almost twice as fast as the sp-1, but with a stability that the sp-1 would never know.    

Inside my helmet I laughed maniacally at the fun of it.    

First stop and a chance for a rest, a chance for my arse to finally catch my head. I looked out the window at the two bikes, and a feeling of immense pride filled me. I know that my old gixxer was quicker, but man does the sv handle. My friend points this out in between mouthfuls of the greasy breakfast we were both currently tucking into. The sun was shining and the birds sung merrily, I also noticed that it was my fully faired yellow sv650 which attracted the most admiring glances. 10 minutes later we were back on the road    

The corners melted into one another in a flurry of twists, the tight bends allowing me to stretch the twin, leaving the sp-1 behind. Man it felt good, I knew it wouldn't take long for the Honda to catch me up on the next straight, but I didn't care, it felt good. Bum off the seat, knee scraping the floor, for a split second I could actually feel the ground rushing past my elbow, before flicking it back up onto the fatter part of the tyre to pull yet more speed from the little demon. Into the next corner, tucked in behind the small screen, as i hit the apex and tugged it upright again i risked a glance in the mirror, couldn't even see the honda.     I slowed down, awaiting the arrival of the red and black 2002 sbk winner, but it was several corners before it caught up.    

After 5 hours and 270 miles, we arrived back at my house. The memories of the day were hazy at best, but one thing will stick in the mind... The 18 miles where the junior twin taught the big un how its done.