It took him hours of perfecting the right movements and balance to get to the point where he could relish the wind blowing along the sides of his face and sliding under his shirt.

He'd had a few spills; some cured with a Band-Aid and then the more serious resulting in hospital visits. The scar running down his chest proved it. He'd tell everyone he got it fighting Ninjas in the Serengeti.

None of that mattered now, as he was almost flying down the streets on his brand new Norton 750 Commando, taking each corner in a perfect arc.