Neverending adventures from the flying saddle

I have owned a number of bikes over the years.

My first was a wooden tricycle turned from the hands and heart of my great uncle Alf.

A Christmas gift from the early stages of my pre-pubescence provided my primary school ride. It was antiquated even when new, compared to the shiny alloy rigs of my contemporaries. But damn, good times were had with that rust ridden, heavy, old shit truck BMX. Wagging school, tadpoling and piffen yonnies. It also had sweet pegs and character.

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