attractive. Even the poor old Flying Brick (BMW’s K 100 to those too young and ten- der to remember that nickname) did noth- ing to improve our view. The R 80 GS was the first BMW that got
on my radar with its exploits racing the Paris/Dakar, and I would go on to own one, but by the time Patrick was invented, I was riding a slick, race-framed Triumph T595. He cut his motorcycle teeth riding on the gas tank of the Triumph as a small boy, and by the time he graduated to the passenger seat, he had been on many a test bike. At the age of five, a Yamaha PW50 started his two- wheeled career, but not before he began to master my digital SLR, having his first pic- tures published in a magazine at the age of seven. Moving on through XR80s to XR100s, a TTR125 and now a Honda CRF150, he is both a proficient motorcycle rider and a photographer as we work our way south past Hadrian’s Wall and then through the Lake District. I hitchhiked here from Scotland when I
was 15 years old for a camping trip, but even though the scenery and villages are beyond spectacular, we don’t stop long. We are on a mission to make Wales by nightfall, so there are some easy miles on the motorway to sit and think. After 30 years away I’m not a Brit anymore, but then I’m not American either, which is clear to me on a daily basis from my default thought process. Am I a man without a country? Maybe the world is my
Above left, A tea shop on the main street in Brixham, South Devon. Above right, The old jail house at Inverary in the west of Scotland. Below, A Dartmoor country home.
home, as we are all just tourists stopping off on planet Earth as part of some cosmic journey around the universe, traveling on one day as dust and particles, or members of a chosen group who have been promised eternal bliss for their faith, depending on your belief. To an Englishman I sound American. To an American I sound like an Englishman. Patrick’s Englishness is more hidden, and he will never have trouble with this form of identity.
Out on the roads, Patrick is a great pas-
senger. Well engaged for the ride, he moves in unison with me, and it’s here I realize where my love of the whole motorcycle experience comes from. The roads require meticulous attention to detail as I work the gears to ensure the right amount of forward motion for the constantly changing condi- tions. The roads here weren’t built for a modern marvel of technology with fuel injection and 120 horsepower, so the
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BMW OWNERS NEWS May 2016
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