There’s something about the idea of the “escape”; A romantic desire to drop it all and head full speed into the unknown. Summertime, more than any, draws this desire to the surface. It starts as a small inkling and grows into a raging beast, but what is in the escape? Is a day enough, or do you need weeks? Do you set a destination and turnaround once you’ve reached it or do you keep going until you’ve lost track of the beginning? Whatever the result or the reason there’s no refusing it when it emerges.

For most, viewing the world as it flies by from the safety of a car is enough, and it should be, you are free, your worries left behind you your escape is in full flight – For others they want the wind on their face to smell the air and feel the temperature change as the road dips or you cross a river. This… this can only be felt from behind the handlebars. The moments that others miss are the ones that keep you going, no music, no conversation, the sound of the engine drowns everything else out. It’s here the desire grows, until your 40-year-old bike breaks down, in a field, with nothing and no-one around, maybe romantics isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

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