My first ride with my younger brother’s chally had an unexpected turn. You see when i fell after few meters and had to deal with his disapproval later, i made a decision. I would earn everyone’s respect about my riding. I was 21, he was 9. You see why?

After that i changed about 10 bikes, mostly big ones with a lot of horsepower, i crossed much of Europe twice (Greece-Ireland and Greece-Spain), i raced as an individual or even with a team at endurance races and even hosted a tv show about MotoGP at Greek public tv.

It’s been 14 years since that awkward moment and nowadays i’m a proud father of two, and not so much into racing anymore…Still though, i manage to find time to ride my bike, even travel with it. What motorcycle is still able to give me is not adrenaline shots, not anymore (plus i’m a downhill mountain biker, so i can find such pleasure in that sport). What my Triumph Daytona 675 is able to make me feel is this unbelievable feeling of controlled fear.

You and i are living a life fairly safe, to say the least. Danger is a kind of luxury that you have to find to make yourself feel alive. When you know that everything you are enjoying, all that you created are at stake when riding, then you can appreciate life in a whole different way. I’m not going to get into culture things like bikers’ solidarity or fashion that comes along. I’m not going to tell you about the exhaust roaring and the kicks of torque. I could even analyse how you feel outcast, sexy or proud when riding but i would need to write a book for that. I’m just going to tell you that if you want to start feeling like you are alive again, then what you should do is go out there and just ride your damned bike. And if you don’t have one, buy one…

Helmet. check